Smashed (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #8.5)(14)

I tried to leave in peace. Harley was determined to keep that from happening. If a fight was what he wanted, then a fight he would get. With a frustrated war cry, I rushed him. Launching myself at him, I took him to the floor and began to throw punches. Each one was backed by power, causing his head to snap from side to side with each blow. It was a beating I’d been dying to give him for years.

Sloane’s shout for us to stop went ignored. Jenner stood by and watched with amusement as I fed our sire hit after hit. It became a futile effort when he ceased to defend himself. Laughter rippled from Harley, fueling my hatred.

“Oh, Arys, this is why I love you so,” he managed to get out between punches. “So wonderfully aggressive. Your spirit is unbreakable.”

He allowed me to pummel him, likely expecting that I would soon get it all out of my system. When I didn’t let up, Harley flung a hand up in my face, slamming me with a psi ball big enough to blast a hole in the wall.

I landed painfully on the floor just inside the sitting room. Sloane and Jenner’s human friends gasped and fled for the door. Before I could get up, Harley was there, dragging me to my feet by my shirtfront.

“I will kill you before I let you walk out on me,” he viciously spat the words in my face.

Unfazed by the damage I’d done to his face, he threw me against the wall, driving his foot into my stomach when I slid to the floor on my hands and knees. Again and again his foot connected with my middle. The sound of bones cracking was almost as painful as the sensation. When his foot came at me again, I grabbed hold of it and twisted hard. There was a snap that brought him down beside me.

Shoving to my feet, I grabbed Harley around the throat and flung him. He sailed across the room to land on the glass-topped coffee table. It shattered beneath him, and he hit the carpet in a shower of glass.

I almost went after him again. Using the few precious seconds I’d bought myself, I glanced about the room. The fireplace caught my eye. Before the thought had finished forming, I was there, grabbing a flaming log from the hearth.

I clenched my jaw against the pain as it scorched my hands. I threw the log onto the couch where the human couple had just been sitting. The flames quickly began to eat at the fabric. Grabbing another, I tossed it at the window where the long, gauzy drapes immediately caught fire. The third I flung at Harley himself who shouted at me to stop. I took hold of the iron fireplace poker and used it to sweep another log from the hearth and onto the floor. Wielding the poker like a weapon, I headed for the door.

The fire moved fast through the sitting room, engulfing the furniture. Harley shrieked, his words lost in the uproar that broke out as other occupants of the house realized what was going on.

As I hurried through the foyer, I was only mildly surprised to find that Jenner and Sloane had vacated. The door hung open, and I followed them out into the hot Nevada night.

“Arys?” Jenner’s voice broke through the memory, pulling me back to reality.

I sat up in bed blinking at him in confusion. It took a moment to remember what year it was. Setting Harley’s house on fire had happened years ago, but it felt like I’d just been there.

“You left him behind,” I said, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. When had I left the living room?

“What are you talking about?” Jenner stood over me beside the bed, a brow raised and arms crossed.

“Harley. The night I set his house on fire. You and Sloane, you ran and you left him behind. And he never held it against you.” I wasn’t sure why I was saying this. It didn’t matter now. Harley was dead.

Jenner studied me in such an inquisitive way that I knew he was questioning the stability of my mental faculties. He sat on the edge of my bed, keeping as much distance between us as possible.

“He didn’t love us enough to feel betrayed.” His tone was very matter of fact. “You’re the one that left him. He never got over that.”

That was an understatement. Harley had been patient, waiting until I found Alexa before following me to Edmonton. In his warped way of thinking, he had believed he could simply come here and claim us both. It hadn’t worked out that way. Alexa killed him with Shaz at her side.

Feeling him slip away from this world had been bittersweet. It was like a dream finally come true. Yet he was my sire, and as much as I hated him, I hated that she took him from me.

“I’m glad she killed him,” I murmured, not so much to Jenner as to myself. “I would never have done it myself.”

Stopping Alexa from killing him once had been a mistake. It had forced her to take matters into her own hands. I was still ashamed of my reaction. Slamming her against the bar at The Wicked Kiss while accusing her of manipulating me was one of my most shameful moments.

Jenner gave a slight nod. “To be honest, I’m glad she did it too. Though I’ll never say so in front of the others, and I’ll deny it if you ever bring it up.”

A glare hardened my face. “What the f*ck, Jenner? You threw a temper tantrum about it only a month or so ago.”

He shrugged, offering no explanation. We both knew it was in his nature to be a showman. It was all about the drama for Jenner.

The memory that had haunted me faded, and I let it go. I wondered if Harley ever hated himself for being the one that ensured I would still exist during Alexa’s lifetime. Joke’s on you, *.

“It’s almost sunset. You actually fell asleep.” Rising, Jenner angled toward the door.