All Chapters of Crave Me; Big Brother: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Rhysand. The sound of my brother’s footsteps echoes in my head as he runs from the room. And I’m right behind him like a shadow of fucking vengeance. His heels catch on the plush rug as he staggers down the hall toward the stairs. He’s gasping, clutching his face, blood blooming between his fingers and staining his shirt and I’ve never felt so fucking satisfied. Years of his bullshit needs to be dealt with. “Don’t run,” I growl, the adrenaline singing in my veins, a hot, electric current that makes my vision sharpen until I can see every pore on his pathetic, sweating face. “Stay and fight, you fucking coward.” Colt reaches downstairs and finally finds his footing, his eyes wild and shimmering with a mixture of terror and toxic resentment. He lunges at me, a clumsy, desperate swing that I slap away with a flick of my wrist. I shove him back into the wall, my palms slamming into his chest, sending him reeling into a display case of family heirlooms. The glass rattle

Rain. He isn't even trying to hide. He’s just watching us with a cold focus that makes my skin burn. The fury I’ve been tamping down all day finally boils over. I slide out of the booth before Emma can stop me and march across the floor. “You have some fucking nerve.” I stop inches from him. The flick of his eyes over my dress feels like a caress on my skin, dragging me back to the couch, back to the way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world. But the warm thought quickly goes cold in my chest. “I made it clear I don’t want to see you.” Rhysand sets his glass down. “I want to see you. There’s things we should talk about.” “No there isn’t. You made that clear the day you left. So stop following me and fuck off.” “What I have to say is important, Rain. You need to know what—“ “I’m taking a break from all your shit, Rhysand. So no I don’t want to h

Colt. “Baby, I’m so—” “Shut the fuck up, Lila. I don’t want to hear it,” I bark, seething with rising anger. I want to think. I want to understand. I want to know what the fuck just happened right now. And what Rain meant by all that shit she just said. My chest hurts. There’s a funny buzzing in my head, bleeding into my ears, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Rain… My submissive, pathetic Rain… She just— No. I shake my head, unable to process it. The anger I saw in her eyes. The hate in her words. The stinging pain of her slap. Maybe this is a prank. I look toward the door, expecting her to return any second and tell me it was all just a joke, that she didn’t mean any of it. Because my Rain isn’t like that with me. She doesn’t yell or lose patience. She’s softhearted, loyal like a dog and fucking predictable with

Colt. The hospital doors slide open and the cold air hits my face in relief but it’s nothing compared to the triumph buzzing under my skin. Rain’s arm is looped through mine, supporting my weight as we walk to the taxi parked in the lot. It had been so easy getting her back. All her bullshit talk and she didn’t even last more than a few fucking hours. Emma stormed out an hour ago, her face twisted in disgust when the discharge papers were signed. Good. One less bitch to deal with. Rain’s quiet the whole drive, her fingers tightly wrapped around mine. I let my head loll against her shoulder keeping my breath shallow. It works every time. Inside her apartment, the smell of vanilla hits me immediately and I almost smile. So good to be home. She helps me to the couch, fussing with pillows, her hands gentle on my bandaged ribs and not pulling away when our

Rain. The morning air is crisp, but it does nothing to clear the fog in my head. I’d gotten up early, made breakfast for Colt and left. I need to clear my head. The night spent holding in my arms was just like how it used to be but something felt different…of somehow. And I don’t fucking know what else to do. I opted to walk through the streets toward Emma’s apartment but that has done nothing for me. I know Emma will know what is wrong with me but I don’t know if she’s going to see me with how angry she is. She left the hospital without a second glance and won’t reply tk any of my texts. I reach her door and hesitate. My knuckles hover over the wood for a long beat before I finally knock. The door swings open almost instantly. Emma is standing there, a mug of coffee in one hand, her face a mask of disappointment so sharp it feels like a physical blow. She doesn't say a