Page 165 of Volatile Obsessions

Straightening my spine, I lifted my head high and stalked toward him with renewed purpose. Tears may have streamed down my face, but pure fire burned through my veins.

How could he do this to me?

How could he fucking do this to me?

Those incessant thoughts only made me angrier.

At the sound of my boots clipping against the concrete, he peeked over his shoulder.

A smile sat painted on his face...until he really saw me. Then his entire demeanor flipped. It ran ice cold. His face fell, dark brows bunching together as he spun around entirely.

“Who fucked with you?” he gritted out, skyrocketing my rage to capacity.

He had some fucking nerve.

“You, you lying bastard!” I roared.

And then my palm made perfect, unparalleled contact with his cheek, resounding around us above the sounds of the city.