Page 36 of Pucked Around and Found Out

A small part of me wants to remove my hand from Carnage's, but the other half wants to tell Xaden to kiss my ass. He's made it crystal clear I'm nothing to him. If I want to hold my friend's hand, I can.

“Is it information you want, or…” Carnage lets the sentence trail off as he dips his head forward. “Her?”

Xaden bares his teeth and pushes the gun harder into Carnage's chest. My friend looks unaffected to anyone who doesn't know him but I can see he's in pain and refusing to show it.

I won't let him struggle because of me.

“The fairy belongs to me.”

His claim over me serves to piss me off and makes my heart race in equal measure. I won't lie, hearing him claim me makes something giddy and desperate flutter in my chest.

But he doesn't mean it the way I want him to.

He's claiming me out of spite. Not out of love or devotion.

“I belong to no one,” I grit out.

Fury explodes inside me when Xaden flicks his eyes to me for a split second, then dismisses me completely, focusing back on Carnage like I'm not even a threat.

This bastard!

I tug my hand free from Carnage's hold and push between him and Xaden, plastering my back against Carnage's chest and forcing Xaden to shift his stance and step back.

His gun remains pointed at me now. The rage burning in his gray eyes heightens my own wrath.

We're toxic.

We feed the worst parts of each other and bring out each other's darkest impulses.

“Tor—”

I cut Carnage off before he can finish. “This is between me and you,” I tell Xaden. “No one else needs to get hurt.”

“Oh, you'll fucking hurt alright,” he vows, his voice dripping with dark promise.

“I'm right here, Xaden.” My voice is steady despite the fear crawling up my spine. “You can take the shot and end it all. Slice my lips from my face and hang them above your bed as a trophy. Or you can listen to what I have to say⁠—”

“All you speak is bullshit!” he roars.

I press back into Carnage and he grips my waist in his hands, anchoring me to him.

The second Xaden registers the protective gesture, everything shifts.

As if Caspian can read his friend's intentions, he moves but not fast enough.

Xaden lifts his gun a couple inches so it's in line with my head. I watch in slow motion as his finger shifts to the trigger.

Carnage tenses behind me and shifts like he's about to push me aside and take the shot for me.

Caspian darts forward.

Carnage shoves me to the side.

A shot rings out, shattering the night and disrupting the fragile tension in the air.

And for one horrible, endless moment, I don't know who's been hit.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN