Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(52)

Ellie started laughing. “I think you’re seriously overthinking this.”

“I know,” Danny said, sighing. “But he left because of me…and now he’s living with Tegen? I mean, he must be miserable.”

Ellie laughed even harder. She didn’t know Tegen particularly well; the girl had been two grades below her, but the few encounters she’d had with her, she had to agree, the girl was very volatile.

“So, her and Cage now, huh?” she asked. “Well, that’s…interesting.”

Danny rolled her eyes. “Oh God, who knows. They are a hot mess together. He screwed her over a long time ago, then she comes back from California after D got shot, looking like a dirty hippie, and suddenly Cage is all, ‘Oh, she’s hot, blah, blah, blah,’ but Tegen’s all, ‘Don’t touch me or I’ll kill you,’ and ever since then every time they are in the same room together, all hell breaks loose.”

Ellie wrinkled up her nose. “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah. Tons. Personally, I think they’re both in love with the other. I mean, Cage has never had a serious girlfriend, ever. He doesn’t have any interest in any female other than for…” Danny trailed off and glanced at her daughter. “Other than you-know-what,” she said in a whisper.

“And I wish they would just beat the crap out of each other, kiss and make up, and be done with it, but whatever.”

Danny shrugged again and got to her feet. “Welcome to the insane asylum,” she said, and went back to rifling through her closet.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN


That motherf*cker.

That stupid motherf*cker.

Looks like you turned out just like your f*ckin’ mom after all.

I was livid. Fucking furious. I was past the point of angry, past the point of anything resembling sanity. What was wrong with me? First I’d come home and did what I’d promised myself FOR YEARS to never do again. Then I’d stupidly come to the club and DID IT AGAIN, then I’d actually agreed to go on a FUCKING DATE with that *, and THEN I came back to the club with him.

“What is wrong with me?” I screamed at my reflection in the mirror hanging over Cage’s dresser, where behind me I could see his bed. His stupid, f*cking, god-awful bed. The bed he’d destroyed me in.

Wait. What the…?

I squinted at the mirror and my eyes went wide. Whipping around, screaming at the top of my lungs, I lunged for the unmade bed, for the red lacy thong lying dead center. Grabbing it, I clutched it with both hands and pulled as hard as I could. The chintzy lace gave and I sent the two pieces of fabric flying across the room.

Breathing heavily, my heart pounding through my chest, I surveyed the room.

Posters of huge-breasted, mostly naked women straddling motorcycles lined the walls, a box of condoms sat atop the nightstand, and condom wrappers littered the floor beside his bed.

How many had come before me? How many f*cking whores had he f*cked in that bed before he’d taken away the only thing that I’d had to give him and he hadn’t even cared?

And how many women had come after me?

How many more women were still to come?

“Stupid!” I screamed. “You stupid, stupid, stupid bitch!”

I snatched the box of condoms off the table and whipped them across the room. Then I grabbed for the bedcovers and the pillows and I did the same. After that, I couldn’t stop; everything I came into contact with was instantly torn apart, shredded, or smashed. I ripped posters off the wall, yanked drawers out of the dresser, sent clothing flying in all directions, and then when there was nothing left to destroy, I grabbed a gun from Cage’s sock drawer, was about to send it flying into the rectangular mirror on the wall, when the door burst open.

Cage took one look at his room, one look at me, and his body went instantly taut. His nostrils flaring, his fists clenched, the veins on his neck and arms bulging, he charged me. Screaming, I spun around, leapt on top of the bed and quickly rolled off the other side. Raising the gun, I pointed it at Cage.

“STOP!” I screamed.

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Who stopped what they were doing when they had a gun trained on them? Not Cage.

“Fuck that,” he said, walking around the bed. His pace was slower now, his eyes on the gun, but he was still coming at me. “Put that shit down before you accidentally blow a f*ckin’ hole in yourself.”

“Fuck you!”

He paused and his eyes reached mine. “Put it down,” he said slowly. “Or when I reach you I am going to beat the f*ckin’ shit out of you with it.”

He sounded so crass, so goddamn cold and unfeeling just like his f*cking father, that I couldn’t help myself. My lower lip began to tremble and a whimper escaped me.

“God,” I whispered frantically. “I hate you!”

“Put it down,” he repeated, and resumed walking.

“Goddammit, Tegen,” he growled, mere seconds from reaching me. “Put it the f*ck—”

“FINE!” I screamed and just as he made to grab for it, I flung it to the left of me.

Cursing, Cage changed direction, grabbed for my shoulders, and with a hard shove sent me down to my knees. Then he bent down in front of me.

“You love him?” he growled.

It took me a moment to catch up. I was still reeling from the gun episode. But when I did, the very second I knew he was referring to ZZ, my anger resurfaced tenfold and I exploded.