Fueled (Driven, #2)(118)

Green eyes all the while held steadfast on mine.

I think my mouth drops open. I think a feeble squeak even escapes from between my lips. I know that all of the blood rushes from my head and into my veins. “Fucking bastard!” The words fly from my mouth, but they are so low, so grated, that I’m unsure if anyone even hears them.

I turn my back on him and rush from the room. The image burned in my mind of what I just saw. The bimbo’s face flickers and changes to Tawny. To Raquel. To the faceless, nameless others that Tawny threw in my face. I blow past a server, not caring that I almost topple his tray in my wake, and push through the closest exit I can find.

The tears that scorch the back of my throat threaten, but the anger firing through me burns them out. I have so much pent up rage—so much hurt—that I don’t know what to do. I walk toward one end of the empty room I’ve found myself in to find no exit.

A bubble of hysteria slips out as the song on the f*cking speakers assaults my ears as I try to calm myself and look for a way out other than back through the ballroom. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room. Like that song couldn’t be any more perfect at this f*cking moment.

I press my hands against a table in the hall and try to catch my breath. The replay of his mouth on that skank, so blatantly in my face, makes my stomach turn. What the hell am I doing here? Trying to reconcile? Who is this woman that I've become? And I was willing to compromise my own morals for him? I hear the door open behind me. I try to straighten up and dash away the tears from my eyes.

“Rylee…”

I glance back at Colton, so completely done with him. How many times am I going to walk headfirst into heartbreak without learning from my own stupidity? “Go away, Colton! Leave me alone!”

“Rylee, I didn’t mean it.”

This time I turn around. Colton stands a few feet from me, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, eyes utterly apologetic. But I’m not falling for it this time. I cross my arms across my chest, a useless protection over my heart. “Fuck you! For someone so hung up on me, you sure do move fast, Ace! You definitely earned the nickname now!”

His eyes search mine, questioning my comment, but he doesn’t ask it once he notices my fists clenching and unclenching in anger.

“It’s not what you think, Rylee.”

“I’m so sick of hearing you say that! Not what I think?” I say, raising my voice. “I just watched you shove your tongue down some bimbo’s throat and it’s not what I think?” How stupid does he think I am? I start to laugh. Really laugh. Almost in hysterics, the push and pull of emotions from the day almost too much to bear. “Oh wait. You didn’t mean to with that skank, but you did with all of the others of your BBB that you f*cked while trying to win me back? Pretending it was me you wanted? Just tell me one thing, Ace…did you get a good laugh at my expense?”

Colton grabs my upper arm, his fingers digging in to my skin. His grip is so tight that when I try to recoil from his touch, I can’t. “What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. About?” he says quietly. “Who—”

“Raquel. Tawny. Who else, Ace? Cassie? Did they give you what you needed? Sit on their knees patiently and kiss your feet like a good girl should? Take what you give and shut the f*ck up otherwise? Did you order the flowers for me in between screwing them?”

Colton’s fingers grip harder to the point that I think I’ll have bruises tomorrow. His eyes pierce into mine. “Do you mind explaining to me—”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you!” I yank my arm from his grasp. “To think I was coming down here to try and fix things between us. To apologize for being stubborn. To tell you I believed you.” I shake my head in defeat, and I start to walk away but turn back. Hurt consuming every fiber of my being. “Tell me something…you said they weren’t whores, but you pay Tawny a salary right?” I arch my brow and I know by the look on his face that my implication is understood.

“She works for me,” he says, releasing one of my arms and shoving his hand through his hair. “I pay her because she does her job. I can’t fire her because you don’t li—”

“Yes. You can.” I scream at him. “And it’s not that I don’t like her. I f*cking hate her! You f*cked her, Colton. Fucked! Her! I think your choice is pretty f*cking obvious. Don’t you?”

“Rylee…”

“You know what, Colton? You make me sick. I should’ve trusted my gut instinct when it came to you the first time around. You really are nothing but a whore.”

When I stop and wipe the tears from my eyes that I didn’t even realize were flowing, Colton still remains standing there, his face stoic and his eyes hard as steel. When he speaks, his voice is low and unforgiving. “Well if I’m going to be accused of it—lose the one girl I choose because of her misperception and absolute obstinance—then I might as well do it.”

I stop mid-motion at his words. So sarcastic. So accusatory. I meet his eyes and my breath catches in my throat before closing them and taking a deep breath as his comment sinks in. My world spirals in black, looping with confusion that just became quite clear. It’s the first time that he hasn’t denied sleeping with her. He didn’t confess—I didn’t hear the words come from his mouth—but he didn’t deny it either. Pain staggers through my chest as I focus on trying to breathe—on trying to think—but he just keeps talking. My fractured heart shatters and splinters into a million pieces.