Page 78 of Liar
“It’s about Damion and Savannah.”
That gives me pause.
Ember flutters her lips on a sharp exhale, then bursts out, “They’ve been having an affair. That’s where she’s been all this time—hidden away by Damion while she was—while she was…”
“Don’t stop there.” My voice comes out deadly quiet.
“—when she was pregnant.” After too many seconds without my response, she peers hard at me. “Thorne? She was pregnant with his baby.”
“I got that much.”
Ember takes a step back. The tight fury lacing my words is finally the thing that makes her shudder.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I look at her sharply. “What are you sorry for? Did you fuck my father, too?”
“God no!” She raises her hands, thinks better of surrendering, then jams them against her hips. “I understand this is hard for you to hear, but don’t you dare take this out on me.”
“Is this your next trick?”
Her hands fall from her sides. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve had some choice moments where you got the best of me. Is this your grand finale? If so, this is piss-poor compared to your previous attempts. What you’re talking to me about is complete garbage.”
“Thorne, it’s the truth.”
“It fucking is not.”
Yet she stupidly forges on. “Savannah lost the baby. She buried its ashes in her ancestor’s mausoleum. At the old cemetery where—”
“I know where the fuck it is.”
“Stop swearing at me.” She adds, quieter, “And stop looking at me like you want to cut my head off.”
I lock my jaw. I’m so tense that my body vibrates under my cloak. I have to release it somehow.
On a thunderous growl, I grab Ember by the shoulders and swing her against the the side of house, my fingers denting her skin. It’s not enough, so I press in harder, pushing my face near hers.
Her back smacks against the bricks. Ember cries out with the impact. “Thorne—”
“Spread your legs. Now.”
Her eyes shine with petrified uncertainty as she looks up at me, her hood askew. Pieces of white-blond hair hit the moonlight. That’s all it takes for me to do it for her.
“Stop,” she murmurs rather than ordering.
“You want to talk about my father fucking Sav? How did he do it, huh? Give me the details. Did he hitch one leg up like this?” I release one of her shoulders to hook her by the thigh and force it up, much higher than normal, pulling at the muscle until a spasm of pain crosses her face.
“I don’t know the details,” she squeaks out. “I don’t want to know.”
But I’m not finished. “Did he rip her panties off? Was she wearing a slutty thong like you?” Grabbing the flimsy elastic, I pull, snapping it in half. The pale pink fabric flutters to our feet.
Her pussy is exposed, shining as much as her eyes.
The sight of her almost sends me reeling, the uncontrollable urge to fuck her first in her pussy, then her ass, then shove my cock in her mouth so all-encompassing, I have to remind myself why I’ve pushed her up against a wall in the first place.
To fuck my fury out.