Page 93 of Fatality

I didn't build myself out of nothing. I have everything I've ever wanted and always get what I want.

And I'll have her respect before she gets the chance to run her mouth at me again.

I look up at her building and smile. It's not the smile of a good man.

I'm not.

It's the smile of a promise I'm making to myself—And to her.

I'll come back.

I'll become more and more present in her life until she breaks, until all that hate and defiance burns down to ashes.

I fucking won tonight, not by successfully killing her, by getting under her skin.

By breaking into her personal space, she'll never be able to sleep peacefully again.

Every creak in her apartment, every shadow in a corner, every unexpected noise.

She'll wonder if I'm there, if I've come back, if I'm about to invade her space again.

She'll think about me.

And the best part? She'll think about me in the most addictive way possible.

With hate, defiance and fear for her life.

I drive away toward the Lower Layers, toward my place. Not that fucking rich, clean, silent layer.

I hate it. Everything is too fucking quiet.

My comm buzzes, and Lira's name flashes across the screen of my Charger's center console.

I roll my eyes.

I could go to her and fuck her, but I need to actually try to get some sleep.

And I think my little visit to my troublemaker fucked up my stitches anyway.

I've been careful, but I can feel the skin on my side pulling tight.

I might have to stop by the garage first and let Ren see what kind of damage she did.

My apartment is lit only by the city's neon and the red neon sign above my bed.

I'm exhausted. It's fucking ten in the morning.

I haven't slept. Again.

Ren cursed me out for straining my stitches, then stitched me up again. then we laughed about it afterward and drank together—he drank alcohol while I kept downing Nitro cans—and talked about the gang's business.

It wasn't until Varek came back to the garage that I realized how high the sun had climbed in the sky.

None of them mentioned the bite mark on my throat.

They knew better and they probably assumed it was from Lira.

I shed my clothes, leaving myself in nothing but my boxers, and slump onto the couch, not even making it to the bed on the platform above.