Royal Prick (A Stepbrother Romance #2)(18)

“You’re nothing but a man with a big f*cking daddy issue. A man that’s far too afraid to handle the past, a man on the verge…” I heard enough come from those full lips of hers. I took my bloodied hand and gripped her by the throat. My hold was loose but could easily be tightened in a blink of her eyes.

I could hear her breathing spike, and the fear and panic that filled her eyes just added to the raging inferno inside of me.

I slammed her back against the wall, and looked straight into her hazel eyes. She seemed scared, but even more than that she seemed concerned. She seemed to care, and caring meant something that I didn’t want to explore.

“You know nothing about me.” I squeezed the soft flesh of her throat in my grasp as I spoke. “Don’t make assumptions, and don’t f*cking assume it’s an issue I have with my father, when it could be an issue I have with you.” I had no idea where the last part of that sentence came from. Maybe I wanted her to think she was the reason I was angry, or maybe I just wanted her to know I had been thinking about her. I couldn’t even f*cking understand the thoughts that were rattling around inside my brain.

“If it was me, you would’ve already made it known.” Her words were scratchy as she spoke against the hold I had against her throat. I could feel the thump, thump of her heartbeat against my palm. The erratic beat told me just how frightened of me she really was. Would I hurt her? I didn’t think so. Then again, I wasn’t myself right now and anything could happen.

An understanding flickered in those beautiful eyes of hers, and I looked down at the blood covering my hand. It was dripping down onto her pale white skin, a stark reminder of the person I was and how different we were from each other. I wasn’t made out for this world. I was carved out from a perfect picture. I had ridges and sharp edges that were made to cut if anyone got too close. I had to let her go, because if I didn’t I would end up hurting her.

“Watch yourself, Noelle, because next time I might not be so gentle. Next time I might hurt you without meaning to.” I released her with a shove knowing that there was nothing more for me to say. She was starting to understand things even I wasn’t ready to explore myself, and that frightened me.

It scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

Noelle Weston scared me because she understood what no one else seemed to.





Chapter Eight

-Noelle



Fear. It wasn’t something that I ever experienced, at least not fear like this. I would be lying if I said Royal didn’t bring it out the most in me. He scared the ever-loving-shit out of me. I could still remember the look in his eyes as he spoke, the pressure he had against my throat, and the warm blood that dripped from his hand and down onto my skin. It was almost like he wasn’t himself. I could tell that it wasn’t me that he was angry with and that he didn’t actually want to hurt me, but it was like he couldn’t stop himself. Not that that was an excuse or a reason for him to put his hands on me. It just seemed like that’s all he knew how to do.

Pain.

Anger.

Rage.

It had been a week since our confrontation with one another. My mother was on my ass about staying focused and as far away from Royal as I could be, but she didn’t know Royal. At least not like I did. Sure he was angry and had a violent streak, but he was also misunderstood and hurting. There was good in him, I could see it. If there wasn’t then he wouldn’t have walked away last night or any other time that I provoked him.

“Apparently there is a party at Sasha’s house this weekend? I didn’t know if you wanted to go or not?” Jordan questioned me as we headed out toward the student parking lot. The wind blew, and I could smell Royal’s cologne in the air. I guess he wasn’t that far behind me after all.

“Isn’t that an invite only kind of thing? I hate Sasha. I would rather stab her in the eye with a hot fork than have to listen to her talk,” I confessed, fishing my keys out of my purse. My thoughts were focused on Royal. On whatever it was that he was doing, or wherever he was for that matter.

“Who knows, better yet who gives a f*ck?” Jordan snickered. I shook my head at her. She was such an innocent girl, swear words just didn’t seem right coming out of her mouth.

“I can tell you that I don’t give a f*ck….” Royal boasted, snaking around us and stopping me from entering into the car.

“I can tell you neither of us care what you give a f*ck about.” Jordan got the words out before I could. She looked at him with disgust, not enough though; I could tell she liked the bad boy image he put out, and so could he.

“You give a f*ck about me…” His words were smooth as he shoved past me and right up next to Jordan.

“Seriously, just leave her alone. She’s immune to your bullshit anyway,” I spoke, finally getting my car door open. I threw my shit in the back seat, and ignored whatever kind of moves he was putting on her. Jordan was strong enough to stand against him.

If I could, she could.

“She wants me…” I wanted to punch him right in the face, but instead slid into the driver’s seat. Mark hadn’t gotten Royal a car yet. I believed it was because he wasn’t responsible enough to have one, but I never brought it up. At least I knew he wasn’t out hurting himself because he couldn’t get anywhere without me.

I could hear Jordan giggle and knew I needed to end the shenanigans that he started. “I’ll call you later, Jo! Royal get in or I’m leaving you here.” You could see the mesmerized look in her eyes. Clearly she wasn’t as immune to him as I had thought.