Page 80 of Filthy Savage

Jasmine ison top of me, but not for long. I may not have had much practice recently, but when I was a kid and teenager, I could hold my own, and it’s like riding a bike.

Reaching up, I grab hold of her fake-as-fuck hair and pull backward as hard as I can. At the same time, I thrust my hip upward and roll us over so that I’m on top of her.

No way in hell is she ever going to have the upper hand. Not on me. Not with Evan, not in this fight, not in this world. My arm is in the air, my fist balled up and ready to slam into this bitch’s face, when I feel my body being lifted from hers.

I’m forced to release my grasp on her hair. Much to my dismay, I don’t bring any of her extensions with me. I was hoping to have a whole trophy in my fist consisting of her cheap-ass hair. I kick a few times and snort when I make contact with some part of her body. In my mind, it’s her boob.

“Calm down, beautiful,” Evan’s voice murmurs against my ear.

I roll my eyes. I am calm. Does he think I’m the one who went berserk? Truly? Turning my head, I touch my lips to the underside of his jaw before I slide my tongue along his skin there.

“I’m calm. She’s the crazy bitch who attacked me, and as much as I am all about making love, not war, I’m also not going to be attacked by some bitch who can’t even walk in her shoes.”

And that is that.

Fuck her.

I refuse to ever speak of her or to her again. This was her closure as far as I’m concerned, and if she wants to say anything else, I’ll finish the job I started.

Point fucking blank.

I don’t say any of that, though, at least not out loud. I have plenty that I want to say, but this moment needs restraint, at least for now.

Evan chuckles, releasing me before he dips his chin to look down at the woman who is still lying on the floor. I didn’t even hit her. I just pulled her hair a bit. She’s got big crocodile tears in her eyes as she pushes herself up to sitting.

It’s not lost on me that as she sits up, she ensures that her legs are spread so the whole world can look up her skirt.

“Are you going to let her hurt me like that?” she whimpers while she blinks a whole lot in an effort to create more tears. I can tell they’re as fake as her hair.

“You need to go, Jasmine. I told you that we’re done. What we had was what we had. It’s over.”

“But,” she whimpers.

Evan crouches down in front of her but thankfully doesn’t make a move to touch her. I might actually lose my mind if he tried. Instead, he clears his throat, his voice coming out deeper and more gravelly than it did a moment ago.

“I’m trying to let you have your dignity. We are done. We’ve been done. And honestly, we never were. I felt bad about the baby. That’s all.”

She lifts her chin, her eyes narrowing as she looks up at him. “I was supposed to be your old lady. Me.”

“Never,” Evan grunts. “Please leave.”

She does something next that even has me gasping in surprise. Jasmine reaches up, grabbing hold of his cut, gripping it tightly in her hands as she pulls on it, knocking him off balance so he’s on his knees.

His brothers are watching him. She’s touching his cut, something that she does not have permission to do. And at the end of the day, this is embarrassing. Lifting my hand to my lips, I cover my mouth, which has dropped open in shock.

“You better fucking let me go,” Evan growls. “Now.”

There is total silence, almost as if everything in the room freezes. Then Jasmine releases him. I can see the look of fear in her eyes. Gone is that smart-ass, cocky, and then sultry expression on her face. It’s been replaced with anoh-shit-I-fucked-upexpression, and she did.

“Stand up and get the fuck out of here before it’s too late.”

Evan’s words are laced with warning. My own back straightens at his tone. Hers does, too. She scrambles to her feet, then, without an ounce of shame, runs out of the room on her stupid heels, her ankles twisting and turning every few steps.

Slowly, Evan stands to his feet, spinning around to face me. His eyes meet mine, his head tilts to the side, and he clears his throat before he speaks.

“We done with that shit?”

I decide that this wouldn’t be the moment to say anything other than yes. So, I refrain from being a smart-ass or even trying to think of some other reason not to be done with thatshit, like the fact that she was just humiliated. I’m pretty sure she’s going to find some way to come after me.