Page 31 of Shattered In Darkness

I should slap him. Instead, I laugh. “Yeah? What’s that?”

He just shakes his head. “Forget it.”

I hop into Sophie’s car, she drives, music loud. Brody drives his car. I stare out the window, watch the city lights flicker past, count every second until I can get my hands on a drink, a stranger, a reason to lose control.

My heart is pounding. Somewhere in my head, my mother is whispering: This isn’t you. But it is. Or maybe it’s all I have left.

When we pull up to the club, there’s a line six blocks long. But the bouncer takes one look at me and we’re inside in seconds. I toss my coat. I am all skin and hunger. No one can tell I’m shattered underneath. Shattered in the black of the night.

Sophie grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bar. Brody hovers, never too far. The lights strobe blue, red, violet. For once, I don’t care who sees me. I order shots. I want to feel invincible. Or maybe just numb.

Sophie is laughing and dancing. I join her, hips rolling, girls watching, men circling. I want them to see. I want them to touch. I want Brody to watch and hate me for it.

He does. I can feel it, like a chain around my throat.

I let the music vibrate through my bones. I let the eyes on me fill the emptiness a little. It almost works. Almost. I lose count of the drinks. I lose count of the hands, but I don’t lose count of Brody. He’s always there. Watching. Waiting for me to fuck up so he can punish me.

Men circle, close in, touch my hips, my ass, brush their thumb across my lower back. I let them. I let their fingers dig in, let lips skim my throat.

If this hurts Marcus, good. If this hurts me, even better.

Sophie is a few feet away, lit up with giddy joy. She shouts, “You bitch, you’re going to get us kicked out!” and I laugh, almost alive.

I feel eyes on me. I turn, and there’s Brody, leaning against the wall. Arms crossed, eyes molten. I make myself a spectacle. It’s the only power I have left.

The guy I’m with gets bold, he slides his hand up my thigh until he hits skin, and I flash him a look: Go on, see what happens.

He pushes it, and now he’s pressed up behind me in the dark, hands everywhere. His breath is sour in my ear. “Let’s take this somewhere quieter.”

I laugh, head tipped back. “You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”

That’s when Brody’s voice slices through the bass.

“Be careful with this one,” he says to the guy, tone dead. “She’s a slut with no heart.”

The guy stiffens and pulls his hands back. “Fuck, man, we’re just⁠—”

Brody steps between us. “Ask around. She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

He’s not even looking at the guy. Just me.

I snap, instantly. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

He laughs. “I’d know. I fucked you before anyone else did, Bambi.”

My cheeks sting, but I refuse to break. “Is that all you care about? Being first?”

Brody grabs my wrist and yanks me into the shadowed hall. The guy dissolves, like everyone else always does. We’re alone. He pins me to the wall, hard enough to make my chest seize. One hand at my throat, thumb pressed just under my jaw. He traces my skin down to the cut of the dress, until his finger hooks against the top of my breast.

His eyes are black with disgust and something so much hotter, hungrier. “You think acting like a whore is going to get me to care?” I can’t breathe. Not sure I want to. He leans in, mouth at my ear. “I fucking hate you. I don’t care what you do anymore.”

Bullshit. I push my hips up and grind until I feel him harden under the fabric. “If I’m nothing to you, why is your cock so hard, Brody? Hm?”

His grip tightens. He groans. Pain flashes. “Just because my dick is hard doesn’t mean you’re special to me anymore. I always liked you for your body, Bambi. But your personality became too fucking much.”

I let the words run through me, hot and bitter. I want to hurt him back.

“Guess I’m not the only one who changed, huh?” My voice shakes but I keep it steady. “You’re just like every other guy. At least I’m honest about it.”