Page 111 of The Heart Breaker

Chase on the ground. Cole over him. His fist driving into Chase’s jaw again and again and again while I screamed at him to stop and he just… didn’t. Like he couldn’t hear me. Like he couldn’t hear any of us.

I can still see the blood. Chase’s face swollen and bruised, and Cole looking down at him with something so cold and dark it turned my stomach. There wasn’t one flicker of regret on his face.

One of the guys finally hauled him off while I stood there shaking and calling the police because it was the only thing I could think to do. And when they came to arrest him, he didn’t fight or explain. He didn’t look even slightly rattled, as if he hadn’t nearly beaten someone half to death.

He just looked at me.

Those dark eyes locked on mine while the cops shoved him into the back of the car, and my stomach dropped. That was the moment Cole Ellis became the Grim Reaper in my head.

I still don’t know what came over him that day. I still don’t know what happened to make him go after Chase like that. But the Cole I know now… wouldn’t do something like that for no reason.

My eyes narrow. “You don’t get to talk about who I sleep with. Not after what you did.”

He takes a step toward me. “So you are fucking him?”

I lift my chin and say nothing, and that seems to piss him off even more than an answer would have.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snaps. “Jesus Christ, Aurora. You’re just a fucking slut now? Opening your legs for anyone?”

Rage burns under my skin and I shove at his chest. “Don’t you ever call me that again.”

His nostrils flare. “Or what?” he bites out, stepping closer again. “You gonna call your psycho boyfriend on me?”

I’ve never really been scared of Chase. There was one time he got pissed because we took the wrong route and yelled so loud, I flinched. But I’ve never felt real fear.

Not until now.

Not until his hand closes around my arm and his grip tightens hard enough to hurt.

“Let go of me,” I snap, wrenching against his grip.

He doesn’t. He just leans in closer, gripping even tighter. “You made me put up with all your shit for years and one mistake is all it takes for you to go and spread your legs for him?”

My throat closes, fear climbing up my chest, but I swallow it down, turn, and shove him off me, hard enough to send him stumbling back, shock flashing across his face.

“Don’t you ever touch me again,” I breathe, fury burning through every word, my heart pounding.

His eyes flash with anger, but I keep going, because I’m so done with him. Done with the excuses. Done with feeling small whenever he’s around.

“I should’ve left you a long time ago,” I say, letting out a bitter laugh. “Would’ve saved me three years of faking my orgasms.”

His face twists, and before I can even register what’s happening, his hand cracks across my face, snapping my head to the side.

I freeze, unable to move. My ears are ringing, breath lodged in my throat while my brain tries to catch up to the sharp sting exploding across my face. Slowly, I lift my hand to my cheek, wincing the second my fingers touch it.

When I look back at him, his expression crumbles. The anger vanishes, replaced with instant regret. His eyes widen and he takes a step back.

“Fuck,” he breathes, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I just?—”

I don’t stay to hear the rest.

I grab my bag off the bed, sling it over my shoulder, and head straight for the door.

“Aurora—”

I don’t stop. I don’t look back. I rip the door open and head straight for the elevator, needing to get away from him.

The second I’m outside, the tears I’d been holding back spill over. I swipe at them as I keep walking, not even thinking about where I’m going.