“Oh, hell no,” I seethe.
Anger instantly fuels my blood as my heart pounds and my veins sizzle with fury. I glance around at the faces surrounding me. They go straight-faced, trying to hide their giggles, but it’s useless. I roll up my sleeves and tie the tails of my shirt around my waist. That’ll have to be as good as it gets today. I get on my motorcycle, insert the key, and then rev the engine. Without putting on my helmet, I back out of the spot. Brielle and her friends stand with Edge and the rest of Venom by his Jeep. They each look smug like they’ve made their point and have had the final say.
Well, fuck them. This shit just got real.
Unable to help myself, I forget all of my training to control my rage and drive right up to them. I come so close to Brielle that she squeaks and jerks back to avoid her toes getting crushed. Her back slams into the oversized tire of the Jeep. Stopping in front of their group, I stare longer than I need to at Edge. Fury and something else I can’t read are smeared across his face. But I’m too angry to try to figure it out.
Gunner gives me his usual salute along with a rare, solemn look on his face.
I plaster on a disgusted smile for Brielle. “Hi, Brielle.”
She juts out her hip and slides her arm through Edge’s. He doesn’t move. “Nice bicycle, trash. New paint job? Looks like art class and your private lessons with Gunner are really paying off.”
I don’t miss the jerk of Edge’s head twisting in Gunner’s direction. Ready to breathe fire, I ignore whatever it may mean, refocusing on the bitch in front of me.
“Oh no, Brielle…” I swish my wrist forward and roll my eyes dramatically. “I can’t take all the credit. I bet you’re way more creative than I am.”
She laughs along with the rest of her friends. “Don’t you know it?”
I’ve always been taught never to lower yourself to your enemy’s level, but this whore strips me down until my worst pours out of me in buckets of hateful sludge. Though, it’ll be fun to fuck with her at her own game.
“I do, actually. Though, thanks to Gunner, he’s been showing me all kinds of artsy tricks. I’ll have to show you. See all of you assholes tomorrow. I have to go practice my paint blending technique.”
“Have fun with that.” Brielle breaks out in brazen laughter and looks at Edge for approval.
Those slate eyes fix on me.
Like switching off a neon sign, I let my facade fall. “Have a colorful ride home, Brielle.”
“Fuck you,” she spits.
On their own accord, my eyes slide to Edge for one brief moment. His dark expression is unchanged. I back out from the confines of their group. Driving slowly through the parking lot, I pull up beside Brielle’s red convertible Mercedes. Why wouldn’t she have the top down on such a gorgeous day?
Did I also mention the convenience it offers me?
I slide my backpack around to my front and pull the almost-empty paint tubes from my backpack: Ruby Red, Jet Black, Midnight Blue, and Royal Purple. Unscrewing the caps, I squeeze what’s left through the opening. The blobs of paint plop onto her white leather seats. I use the end of one of the tubes to smear the colors around, swirling them just the way Gunner showed me. I’m such a good student. Then, practicing my brush strokes, I use my finger to draw a smiley face in the paint.
She’s behind me, screaming like a banshee as she runs toward me. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I told you I’d show you my new skills. Enjoy your ride home,” I call over my shoulder and toss the empty tubes in her car before I take off. Serves the bitch right.
The rawness of rage feels slightly healed. It shouldn’t, but it does.
On the way to the dojo, I make a quick stop at the local hardware store. Grabbing a can of black matte spray paint off the shelf, I pay, then head back out to my motorcycle. The person sitting in the yellow Ferrari next to my bike is the last person I would have ever expected.
Kade places his arm on the ledge of the open window.
“This car seems a little flashy for your dark and silent type. Don’t you think?”
“I like yellow, and I like fast cars.”
I shrug. “Then who the fuck am I to judge?”
He takes a drag from the joint pinched between his fingers. Holds his inhale.
I nod at the hardware store behind me. “You planning on buying a rope or a hammer? Maybe a nail gun or a drill?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Or did you followme?”
He exhales long, the sweet stench of weed wafting out of the open window. “That was a shitty thing Brielle did to your bike.”
