7. Strike One

I almost spun on my heels and fled from the room.

Almost.

I was halfway through backing out of the room when the need for revenge twisted like a dull, rusted dagger inside my gut, and I stopped.

“You owe me fifty bucks,” Darius commented. “Typical spoiled rich princess.”

Hunter muttered something incoherent as I turned in time to see him fish out cash from his pocket and toss it across the table at Darius. “As if you fucking need it.”

“I still won.” Darius pushed the potted plant aside, and I didn’t miss the once-over he was giving me. My heart did this stupid tumble inside my chest, and it took everything out of me not to run off as I initially planned to do.

No. I was going to ruin his day. I had no idea how I would go about that, but I sure as heck would try.

I clenched my fists to my sides, the need to beat the trash out of them like I did with Jace, but I had to be realistic here. The Savage–or should I call him by his real name now that we were acquainted?–was an almost-al