I let go of the door, raising my hands in surrender and stepping away. I’ll let her leave right now because I have a better idea of how to remind her where she stands with me. I’m not Matt. I won’t put up with this shit.
She yanks the door open and storms out, her heels clanking on the floor as the door falls shut, closing me in the classroom.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BLAKELY
I SIT AT the kitchen bar in our apartment drinking a rum and Coke. It’s my third. I skipped the rest of my classes today. Didn’t give a shit to be there.
Matt got to me. He was right. It doesn’t matter who I fuck today, tomorrow, or next week. The end will be the same. I’ll be his. And now I’ve pissed him off. He pretty much told me he’d keep me caged in the dark as his sex slave.
What the fuck did I do to him? He was cheating on me! He never even told me about the ritual. How was I going to vow to be his if I didn’t know about it? Ryat chose me, but Matt showed no interest in me whatsoever. Just our future as husband and wife. Let’s not forget the girl he’s been with for God knows how long.
I take another drink, the straw making a slurping sound as I realize I’ve reached the bottom. Then there’s Ryat and his high horse. I’m not telling him shit about Matt and me. He’s already possessive and controlling. If he knew what Matt said to me, he’d probably take it out on my ass, and I’m not going to allow that. I didn’t do anything wrong.
Getting to my feet, I walk into the kitchen to pour myself another drink but realize the bottle is empty. “Great.” I throw it into the sink, and it shatters, some of the pieces falling onto the floor. I step back, not wanting to get cut, and go over to the bar, picking up my cell to call Sarah.
“Hey, girl.” She answers on the second ring.
“Wanna go out?” I ask her in greeting. Either she wants to or not. I don’t have time to beat around the bush.
“Yeah,” she answers excitedly. “Gunner and I—”
“Just me and you,” I interrupt her. “I need a girls’ night. And please don’t tell Gunner where we’re going. I’m avoiding Ryat right now.”
“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “You at the apartment?”
“Yep.” I nod to myself.
“I’ll be there in twenty.” She hangs up. I set my cell down on the counter and make my way to my room and to my closet, leaving the mess of broken glass in the kitchen. I start digging through my clothes, looking for the most revealing thing I own. The motherfucker burned my skirt. Fuck him!
Smiling, I pull the dress off the rack. “Perfect.”
I get undressed and step into the skirt, pulling it up to my waist. Then I raise the two pieces of fabric up and around my neck. Turning, I look at myself in the mirror and the crisscross halter cut-out dress. It shows off my stomach, chest, and all of my back. The crisscross material barely covers my tits. Looking down, I pull on the string on my right thigh, making the skirt bunch up even more.
Twenty minutes later, we’re walking into Blackout. It’s a four-story club on the outskirts of town. “Have you been here before?” I ask her while we check our stuff in at the front. No way am I carrying it all around with me while I dance and drink. Plus, me drunk with a phone isn’t smart right now. I don’t want to drunk text Ryat when I’m horny at two o’clock in the morning. Or do something worse like send him pics of my pussy while in the bathroom.
“No. Janice was telling me about it the other day.”
I nod. Of course, our neighbor did. Last year, Sarah and I were woken up at three in the morning because the cops were banging on her door. They found drugs inside her place, and she spent three weeks in jail. We had to feed her cat and water the plants for her.
We shoulder our way past the crowd, and I grab the bar for stability. I should have worn flats. I’ve already had so much to drink; I’m going to be crawling out of here after closing.
A bartender walks over to us. “What will it be?” he yells out to us.
I go to hand him my bank card to start a tab when a guy beside me slides a hundred across the bar. “I got their drinks, Benny.”
Looking up, I see a pair of dark eyes staring at me. A smirk covers his unshaven face, and his eyes drop to my tits.
“No thanks.” I dismiss him, slapping my card on top of the bar.
He snorts. “Come on, let us buy your drinks for the night.”
“Us?” Sarah asks.
“Name’s Nathan,” a guy to her right introduces himself, placing his forearm on the bar. “And this here is my friend Mitch.” He gestures to the one next to me.