“You want someone to share your bed, you climb into mine. If I find out this happens again I will kill him, Mari. Do you hear me? I will kill him.”

Wroth—” she began, obviously not in the least bit scared of the raging beast just inches from her, but Wroth kissed her silent.

“Don’t push me. I’ve killed men before, I have no problem doing it again.”

I grimaced, knowing that what Wroth said was true. His time in the marines had changed him because of what he’d seen and done. Poor bastard was still haunted from that time in his life.

“I know, Wroth.” Marissa’s voice was softer than usual, as if she were talking to a wounded animal. Or in this case a wild beast. “That wasn’t your fault, though. You had to kill those men or be killed yourself. If anything, I’m glad you did that. You came home, Wroth, and I don’t care what you had to do to make that happen.” She stood and wrapped her arms around the big man’s waist. “You don’t have to kill Rhett. He didn’t do anything wrong. We’re just friends, I swear.”

Within a blink of an eye, Wroth’s rage faded. It was crazy how fast Marissa could take that hulking monster and make him look like a big cuddly teddy bear. Not that I would ever say that out loud. I didn’t want to die at the hands of my friend if he ever heard me calling him a fucking teddy bear.

While Marissa held onto Wroth, Linc stepped closer to them. I stood there, watching it all with a small smile. Yeah, I could actually crack a smile since it had been Rhett and Marissa and not Rhett and Natalie sharing a bed last night. Something I should have been quicker to realize since she’d been so sick the night before and she’d been in bed alone when I’d checked on her before going to bed myself. But hey, jealousy is a real bitch and it clouds the mind when you feel that green monster overtaking you.

Linc cleared his throat to get Wroth’s attention. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Wroth raised his head from Marissa’s hair to look at the muscle-head. “Before you really do go all rage monster and start killing people, maybe I should clarify something. Rhe—”

Natalie cut whatever else he was going to say off. “Rhett and I are friends with benefits. You don’t have to worry about him and Marissa, Wroth. Rhett and I are exclusive.”

The red haze came back with a vengeance, and with it a pain in my chest that nearly knocked the breath from my lungs. No, no way. I couldn’t believe that. I wouldn’t. But when she lifted her eyes to mine and clenched her jaw, I had. The pain become worse, as if someone was actually ripping my heart from my chest.

With a pain-filled growl, I turned and put my fist through the paneling of the wall with one punch. She was mine. He’d had no right to touch her. She’d had no right to let him. I walked down the hall and straight into the sleeping area, slamming the door behind me. The hurt and jealousy and feeling of being betrayed clouded my vision and I lost control over my own rage.

I moved blindly to her roost and pulled the covers, pillows and that fucking stuffed tiger off her bed. The curtains tore down as I grabbed her mattress and threw it across the room. That didn’t make the pain go away so I punched the wall, but the pain in my hand didn’t distract the pain that was making me bleed to death on the inside. It was like her confession that Rhett was her lover—her fucking friend with benefits—had been a physical blow and I now had internal bleeding.

It didn’t matter that we weren’t together anymore. I felt as if she had cheated on me. That what we’d once had had meant nothing to her. How fucking dare she cheat on me! I loved that girl. Loved. Her.

Grabbing the closest thing, I threw it across the room and then punched the wall again. As if I were having an out-of-body experience, I felt the bus shift and then slow down, but I couldn’t have cared less if we were stopping or if we were suddenly speeding out of control and about to crash. I just wanted the pain to stop.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the door open and three of my bandmates standing in the doorway, but I didn’t care what they wanted as long as they left me alone. Growling, I punched the wall again, and again. Again. The skin broke open, but I punched the wall again before shaking the blood off my hand.

The wound on my hand stung, the bruising on my knuckles throbbing, but it still didn’t compare to the pain that was making it hard to fucking breathe.

Natalie

The bus swerved yet again and the driver pulled off onto the side of the road. I bit the inside of my cheek, knowing that this was all my fault. If the driver was stopping, I knew that Emmie’s was too. Once she stepped onto this bus and Devlin was still out of control he was as good as dead. Ugly dead. As in no-one-would-be-able-to-identify-the-body dead.

Since I’d caused this then I had no choice but to fix it. I didn’t want Devlin dead. Not even a little bit. I’d just wanted him to hurt as much as I hurt and from the noises coming from the back of the bus I was pretty sure that I’d accomplished that.

“Rissa, please try to keep Em from going back there.” I gave Rhett a quick glance that hopefully told him how sorry I was for pulling him into my drama. I’d had no right to use him as a scapegoat like I’d just done. He was my friend and lying about having a sexual relationship with him was not something you did to your friend. Not when it could have gotten said friend killed.

I rushed down the hall and pushed past Zander, Liam, and Wroth. My eyes widened when I saw the mess the sleeping area was in. It looked like a freaking hurricane had hit the room. Mattresses, covers, pillows, curtains and even my little tiger was scattered around the room. There were big dents in the walls, a few holes, and drops of blood on the wall.

From the front of the bus I could hear Emmie demanding to know what was going on and I quickly pushed Wroth back into the hall and closed the door. In my rush to protect Devlin I didn’t even notice that the door was warped. All I could think about was getting him calmed down before Emmie heard him tearing the place apart.

“Dev.” I whispered his name a little brokenly when he turned around I could finally see his face. The pain in those aquamarine eyes, the way his face was scrunched up in torment, both of his hands bleeding from hitting the walls repeatedly. If I’d thought I would feel better by making this man hurt, I was wrong. I wanted to be vindicated, wanted to relish his pain, but I couldn’t.

How would it feel if I followed through with the bet Marissa and I made? Would I be able to follow through with it if this was just a fraction of how it would feel to watch him hurt if I walked away from him at the end of the summer?