Over the Edge

Ch.33-You're Lucky I Love Her

“You may want to step out,” I suggested to Rico as I stared hard at the two people in the doorway.

 He inched toward the door. “If I hear flying chairs I’m coming in. I’ll be right outside.”

I didn’t nod, I didn’t even acknowledge that he had spoken. He shoved passed the two bodies, causing them to stumble inside the room. He pulled the door closed behind him. I placed myself between them and Emma.

“That’s Emma?” the skinny brunette asked.

I didn’t answer.

“What happened to her?”

I didn’t answer.

Her lip quivered. “Please tell us something.”

 “You’re lucky I’m letting you see her,” I finally replied, voice low. “You don’t even deserve to be in this room right now.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and I took sadistic joy in it. She should cry. She had partaken in the hell that would haunt Emma for the rest of her life.

The guy standing beside her was tall and lanky. He had been quiet thus far, analyzing the situation with hooded eyes and crossed arms. I refused to hit a girl—no matter how much I wished to in that moment—but I was waiting for him to step one toe out of line so I could acquaint his face with my fist. God knows I wanted to.

“Have you taken a trip down to the station, yet?” I questioned. They winced and I was taking immense delight in their discomfort.

“We did our time—Rhys, is it? We did our time, Rhys.”

“Wasn’t long enough.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there; you don’t know anything about the situation.”

“I know enough,” I snapped. “And unless either one of you has ever been raped and absolutely humiliated before, I’d say you don’t understand it, either.”

“He didn’t rape her; they didn’t charge him for that,” Nate finally spoke up. My temper flared and I used that as my excuse to jump him. Madeline cried out as I grabbed the front of Nate’s shirt and slammed him into the wall, making the cheap paintings rattle and shake. I lowered my face threateningly close to his, voice pure venom when I spoke.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I snarled. “Your freaking douchebag of a friend raped her and you may be obsessed with believing that he didn’t, but he did. And I’m going to put that bastard away for life if it kills me.”

Nate was indifferent, but for the unease that was visible in his eyes. “They’ll never catch him without the original tapes,” he murmured, gauging my reaction carefully.

“You son of a bitch,” I muttered disgustedly. “Where are they?”

He snickered. “You think I’d tell you? I’m in them, too. I would go down with him.”

He was so fucking repulsing, when I slammed my fist in his face it didn’t seem like enough. That smug look was branded into my memory.

“Stop!” Madeline cried. “Nate, you told me you wouldn’t do anything stupid when we came!”

Nate didn’t have much of a chance to answer as I rammed my fist into his stomach and sent him to his knees. Rico chose that moment to burst through, assessing the situation in ten seconds flat. He pushed Madeline out the door first, not bothering to respond to her protests. I grabbed Nate’s shirt and held him up.

“You’re lucky I love her,” I hissed. “She wouldn’t want me killing you.”

The blood in my veins was so cold, my resolve so strong, that I could have killed him and probably never regretted it.