Before he can muster a reply, I drive my fist into his stomach. The force knocks the wind out of him, and he collapses to the ground, gasping like a fucking fish out of water. The sound of his pain is music to my ears.

"Get up," I bark, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him to his feet. His glazed-over eyes meet mine, and I shake him hard enough to rattle what little sense he has left before slamming my fist into his jaw. His head snaps back, and he stumbles, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth onto his pristine white collar.

I crouch down to his level, leaning in close to make sure he sees my face when I tell him, "You come near Nora again—you even think about her—and I'll make fucking sure the last thing you ever see is my face before you find out what Hell really looks like. Do you understand me?"

He groans weakly, nodding, but it's not enough. It'll never be enough for what he's done.

"I said, do you understand me?" I growl, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him so close our noses almost touch. The metallic scent of his blood mingles with expensive cologne.

“Y—yes,” he croaks, his voice barely audible over the distant thrum of bass from the house.

I release him, and he crumples back onto the grass, limp and pathetic. Reaching into his pocket, I pull out his phone, holding it up for him to see.

"This? I'm keeping it," I say coldly, slipping it into my pocket.

I head back inside to find Jay who'd walked away after I sent Evan to the ground. The bass reverberates through the floorboards, the music a dull roar in my ears. Instead of finding Jay, I spot Farrah almost immediately. Her body is practically glued to Connor's as they fuck each other's mouths in the corner. She sees me and horror flashes across her face, like I'm some ghost that has come back to haunt her.

She pushes past Connor, who looks pissed—probably nursing a hard-on and wounded pride. I'm about to walk away when she calls my name, her voice cutting through the chaos of the party.

For fuck's sake.

“Get out of my way.” My voice comes out flat, emotionless.

She looks up at me, lips swollen and expression annoyed, like I'm the one interrupting her night. "What are you doing here?"

“Came to see a friend." I keep it short because I don’t have time for her bullshit tonight.

Her eyes narrow, venom dripping from every word. "Your little whore not with you?"

"There's only one of those around here, and she's standing right in front of me." I step closer, my voice deadly calm.

She scoffs, stepping back like I'm something contagious before her palm connects with my chest, shoving me back a step. The touch feels wrong, tainted.