Take (Need #2)(2)

Austin exits his car, looking all determined and shit.

And what gets to me the most? What has me ready to undo him?

It’s that determination. The hardcore, no-holds-barred resolve on the guy’s face.

I kicked his ass for touching Kira. I made damn sure he knew that was why I was kicking his ass. So he knows why I’m enraged at the sight of him here. Why I’m coming at him the way I am.

The f*cker is ready to meet me head on. Ready to take me and all my fury just so he can get close to my girl.

He slams his car door right before I get in his face.

He meets me, and we’re nose to nose, chest to chest.

Two men utterly in love with one girl and ready to destroy each other for it.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him slowly, because in the back of my mind I haven’t forgotten it’s Kira’s birthday. I’m giving him a chance to walk the f*ck away so I won’t have to pummel him into the driveway and ruin Kira’s night further.

His jaw hardens. “You really didn’t think I’d miss her eighteenth, did you?”

I read every damn word behind that sentence. I swear to God, the subtext is too clear to ignore. Too blatant for me to stand it.

He came to do the very same thing I came to do now that Kira’s eighteen.

Claim her.

Both of my fists curl, tightening so hard I immediately start to lose blood flow.

And I don’t care. I don’t feel anything but the violent hatred pulsing through my veins. “You need to leave.”

He gives me this little sardonic laugh that makes me wonder if he realizes how close to killing him I actually am. “She’s eighteen. So what’s your excuse now, huh?” He tilts his head, light blue eyes narrowed. “Though that was a weak excuse, man. We both know that doesn’t really matter.”

Almost as if he’s goading me. Pushing my buttons. Looking for a specific response. And, suddenly, I remember something he spat at me the last time we fought, when we’d been rolling around on the ground and going at each other like two wild animals, hit for bloody hit.

“This isn’t about her being seventeen and you know it.”

I narrow my eyes right back at him, exhaling as slow as I can, trying to keep it together.

But a part of me wants to lay it all out in the open. Make him understand just how I feel about Kira.

How f*cking far I’ll go to keep any man—especially him—away from her.

“I’m never going to forget how you took advantage of her, you f*cking piece of shit.”

He throws his head back and barks out a laugh, and that’s when I realize his fists are clenched, ready to start breaking bones.

Just like mine f*cking are.

“I didn’t take advantage of shit, Brayden. She. Came. After. Me.”

This motherf*cking, good-for-nothing, pile of . . .

The image burns straight through my synapses, branding itself, adding to an already overbearing torment. All I see is Kira, searching him out, offering herself to him.

Him happily taking . . .

I don’t realize I’ve begun to pull my fist back until I hear my name being screamed behind me.

“Brayden! No! Stop!”

I jerk to a stop.

So does Austin.

Fucking hell. I won’t rest, I won’t stop, I don’t think I’ll even f*cking sleep until I’ve broken every bone on his face.

“Brayden!” Kira’s little heels click on the driveway as she gets closer. And then she’s right there, maneuvering between us, her hands landing on my chest as she starts to push me back away from Austin.

The man she f*cked.

The man she keeps claiming she wants to try and be with.

Her lips are still swollen from my kisses. Her hair remains a mess. The lights illuminate her hazel eyes. Her face.

She’s so damn gorgeous. All I want to do is wrap my arms around her. Hug her tight and breathe her in.

“Don’t do this,” she pleads in a low voice.

I’m letting her push me back, letting her stop me from doing the one thing I want to do more than anything. The one thing that’s my right to do considering she’s mine.

“I’m not.” My voice is shot to shit. Low enough so only she hears it. “Look.” I hold my arms out away from myself, motioning with my head down my body, drawing her attention to the fact that she’s in control right now.

She blinks, surprised, then looks down at where her hands are braced, right above my raging heart. Then she looks at the ground and the distance she’s put between me and Austin.

Her head turns in his direction and the apologetic look she gives him annihilates something inside me.

She faces me again, her expression hard, not at all soft like it’d been when she looked at him. “I asked him to come tonight. It’s my birthday. Don’t ruin it for me anymore than you already have.”

If she’d taken a knife and shoved it right in my chest, it would’ve hurt a lot less than hearing those words from her. “Is that what you want?” I hiss, fists clenched again as I fight the primal beating of every male instinct in my body. Will she ever know how much this is costing me right now? How hard it is not to grab her?

Is she aware that her hands are still on my chest, as if she can’t let go, despite what she’s saying?

“You want him here instead of me?” The words are nothing more than a whisper, meant only for her to hear, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hear the hurt behind them.