Piece by Piece

Chapter 6

Aliena

I no longer recognize the boy I met at the nursing home that day four months ago. No, the man staring at me now, with his eyes narrowed and a vein in his neck pulsing, looks nothing like Rosie's sweet grandson. He looks through and through like his dipshit father's son.

In this house, at these parties, and with his friends, he always carries himself with an air of superiority. He thrives on the undeserved respect and the fear his fellow students give him because that's how their rich parents told them to behave and feel. They kiss up to his ass and let him walk all over them. And all for what?

To make a good impression on the dean of the university and heighten their chances of an invitation to the VIP room. If only they knew that the dean and his son don't actually talk, least of all about Sebastian's friends.

They could all stand up to him and would never have any troubles with the school. Sure, Sebastian would beat them to a bloody pulp if anyone crossed a line and openly disrespected him but one day or another, he'll meet a worthy opponent to push back. I'm awaiting the day. It would do him some good to be humbled.

He and I are locked in a staring contest, both unwilling to look away. I can see the fury in his crazed eyes and the slight twitch of his jaw. The unfamiliarity of seeing those dark irises reveal so much is unsettling. Usually, the man is collected, always cool. Now he looks a breath away from losing his mind. I don't understand what has gotten into him.

He loses our game as his eyes flick over my head and to his friend behind me. I can watch as the wall goes down in front of his emotions, shutting them away until he is nothing but a shell quaking with anger. He shakes his head, the motion nearly unidentifiable, and before I can act, he pushes past me and heads straight for his friend.

He grabs the collar of Mattheo's rumpled dress shirt and slams his fist into his cheek before anyone can make so much as a beep. Mattheo doesn't make a move to defend himself or to get his friend away. He just stands still, his face stoic while I cry out and scramble toward them.

Adrenaline floods my veins and I almost can't believe what I'm seeing. What has gotten into him? Why the hell is he upset enough to hurt his friend? God, I hate violence.

"Hey! Stop! Sebastian, let go of him!" I yell, pushing him from the side so I can wriggle in between the two idiots. My heart is racing so much that my chest hurts. I hold out my arms as one of Sebastian's hands clamps down over my shoulder for stability. He is clearly seeing red and only notices that it's me in front of him after a second. His fist is already cocked to land another hit when the recognition sparks in his eyes, and out of muscle memory, my whole body locks up as I flinch.

That has him dropping his hands really quickly and he takes a step back, shaking his head. He huffs. "You thought I'd hit you," he mutters. Then his face hardens again. "I can't believe you. I gave you permission to use this room in case it got late and you didn't want to go home alone at night, not to spread your legs for anyone with low enough standards." He gives me a withering look.

"Dude," Mattheo interjects, looking ready to say more in my- or his defense. I stop him with a subtle shake of my head and Sebastian, who sees the silent interaction, looks like he's about to burst. I speak up before he can.

"You have zero rights to shame me for this, much less any reason to be angry. You have no claim over me, Sebastian. None at all. Now get out!" I say. Who does he think he is? It's all the more ironic because he was with a girl tonight. Like he was many nights before since we got to know each other. Occasionally, he picks them up right in front of me. He has no right to shame me and cause such a scene.

He looks between his friend and me a few times, his beautiful face twisting into something ugly and bitter. Finally, he gives me a short, disgusted glance and says, "You know, I really didn't peg you for the type. I'm sure Rosie would be so proud if she saw you now," he snarls. "I can't even look at you."

With that, he turns and leaves while I stare after him, surprised by how much his words sting. Most of all, it was just wrong of him to bring up Rosie knowing how much she meant to me. Knowing how much her opinion meant.

In a matter of seconds, I shake myself and remember that he's just a coward that acted like an ass ever since I first stepped into his house because he didn't like me knowing that he was a big softie for his grandmother rather than the spoiled brat he pretends to be at school.

He has no right to be angry. His words mean nothing.

"Are you okay?" Mattheo's low voice comes from behind me. With a deep breath, I turn around and give him my best unbothered look.

"I'm fine. He's the one with the problem. How's your cheek? I can't believe he hit you. God, what is wrong with him!" I huff a breath and then take a closer look at my friend's cheek. What an interesting mess I got us in.

"I can," he admits, rubbing the red bruise forming right on the bone. When I reach up to touch it, he brushes me off and shoots me a grin. "Was still worth it. He barely put his weight behind it," he adds.

"Fool," I mutter playfully. "Anyway, I'll get going now." I step up to him. "Thank you for being such a great friend tonight. You really did make me feel amazing," I say, locking my arms behind his neck. He smiles coyly and I allow myself to kiss those soft lips of his one more time.

The man muses. "You are flattering me, Amo. Besides, I think I only deserve half the credit," he teases me. I roll my eyes and shove him. Before I can turn away to get on my way, his arms are back around me and I find myself enveloped by his massive body. It takes me a second to realize he's hugging me, and when that registers, I can feel my heart crumble just slightly in my chest.

It's embarrassing how much I crave comfort and it really is something nothing other than a sincere hug or a sweet caress can provide. I've been scrambling for scraps of this affection for years, giving up my body willingly to anyone with low enough standards, in Sebastian's words. It was disappointing when I first realized it wasn't the same.

I soak up this moment and stock it somewhere inside me for as long as I dare. Then I pull away and pat his shoulder. "Goodnight, Mattheo."

"Night, Seduttrice. Get home safely."

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