Chapter 80 Chapter Eighty

Chapter 80 Chapter Eighty
Gray

I’d never ridden this hard in my life, because I'd never felt this deep surge of anger and pain before.

The world blurred into streaks of light and shadow trees, cars, streetlights, all melting together as I pushed the bike to its limit. The wind whipped against my face like punishment, but it still wasn’t enough to drown out the roar in my chest. 

Heartache and speed mixed into something toxic, something that made my hands tremble on the handlebars.

I had read her message three times. And I still didn’t understand why she would give up so easily.

That freaking line……We can go back to the way things used to be. Not speaking to each other. The words had stung me to the point of numbness. 

Bella thought she was protecting me from my father, from the threats and the chaos she believed she’d caused.

She had no fucking idea.

I slowed the bike on a deserted stretch of road overlooking the city, killing the engine. The sudden silence pressed in on me. 

My hands were still gripping the bars so tightly my knuckles had gone white.

I ran my palm down my face and let out a strangled roar.

Bella wanted to end this. And maybe she was right. My family was full of hypocrites. My father, his sisters, that entire circus at the dinner table, they all wore their masks so well. But none of them were as dangerous as the woman living under the same roof as us.

Her mother. Christie. That woman had been making sexual advances toward me for months. 

Long before Bella and I ever crossed that final line. At first, I thought it was some twisted power play. Then it became something darker. 

She would corner me when no one was around, brushing against me, whispering things no stepmother should ever say, offering herself like it was some kind of bribe.

I had threatened her every single time. Told her I’d destroy her if she didn’t stop. But she never fully backed off. 

Her hatred for me wasn’t just because I was difficult or “unhinged.” It was because I refused to let her wrap her lips around my cock. Because I rejected her again and again.

She wanted control. And I was the one thing in that house she couldn’t have.

I’d buried it deep, never told a soul. Especially not Bella. How the fuck was I supposed to tell the girl I’m obsessed with that her own mother had been trying to seduce me?

I dragged a hand down my face, laughing bitterly into the night.

Maybe Bella ending things was for the best. Because if she ever found out the truth about her mother… it would break her in ways I couldn’t fix.

I was a fucking mess by evening. I rode through the city like a man trying to outrun his own shadow, streets bleeding into highways, lights streaking past in meaningless blurs. 

It was like the morning ride all over again.

My muscles burned, my shoulders screamed, but I didn’t stop. The ache was the only thing keeping me from riding straight back to her and doing something I couldn’t take back.

When night finally swallowed the sky, I found myself at the fight club. Heartbreak had a way of reconnecting you to your bad habits.

I parked deep in the shadows where the moonlight didn’t reach. I didn't want to be sighted by anyone tonight.

I killed the engine and sat there, breathing hard, trying to push Bella’s message out of my head.

That’s when the voice slithered out of the darkness behind me.

“Hellfire in paradise, Grayson?”

I stilled, every instinct snapping to high alert, but I didn’t turn. That would be a foolish move.

“I’ve always waited for the perfect opportunity to get back at you,” the voice continued, thick with alcohol and pure malice. “And this… this is just perfect.”

Ah. Professor Kelvin. The same pathetic piece of shit I’d gotten suspended. The one who had looked at Bella like she was prey. What was he even doing out here?

“Never pegged you for a stalker, Professor,” I said quietly, still facing forward. “Leave that to us the experts.”

I heard the unsteady scrape of his shoes on gravel as he approached. He was drunk, but drunk men with knives were often the most dangerous kind. Why? They were reckless, unpredictable.

I knew he was with a knife because if he wasn't, he would've lunged at me without announcing himself. 

Even though he was drunk, this was a calculated move. He'd been on my trail, meaning he was hoping to undo me, to finish him.

We'd see about that.

I waited until I could feel the heat of his body close behind me, until the metallic glint of the dagger flashed in my peripheral vision.

Then I moved. I swung off the bike in one fluid motion, spinning just as he lunged. The blade sliced through the air where my back had been a heartbeat earlier. 

I caught his wrist mid-strike, twisting hard. Kelvin cried out as the dagger clattered to the ground.

“You ruined my life, you psychotic fuck!” he snarled, spit flying from his mouth. His eyes were bloodshot, wild with hatred and cheap liquor. 

“Suspended because of you and that little slut—”

I drove my elbow into his face. The crunch of cartilage was satisfying. Blood sprayed across my knuckles as his nose shattered. He staggered back, but I didn’t let him recover. 

I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the rusted fence behind us. The metal rattled violently.

“You came at me with a knife?” I growled, my forearm pressed against his throat. “Over a suspension? You really are pathetic.”

Kelvin gasped for air, clawing at my arm, but I leaned in harder.

“This isn’t about the suspension,” I clarified. “This is about Bella. You looked at her like she belonged to you. Like she was your toy to mess with.”

He threw his head forward like a savage animal and smashed it into my forehead. Pain exploded behind my eyes. I staggered back, releasing him as the world spun violently. 

Stars burst across my vision. I shook my head hard, trying to clear the dizzy spell, but Kelvin was already coming at me again, roaring like a wounded bull.

We crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and fury. Gravel bit into my back as he landed on top of me, moving as if he was a wild animal desperate for blood. 

I reacted on pure instinct, wrapping my legs around his waist and locking them tight. With a sharp twist of my hips, I flipped him over my head.

He flew like a ragdoll, slamming onto the ground with a heavy thud. The dagger lay right beside his head.

Kelvin rose to his feet, breathing like a cornered beast, his eyes bloodshot with rage and alcohol. He snatched the dagger and came at me again, holding it horizontally like an amateur.

I ducked under his wild swing, grabbed his wrist, and twisted with brutal force.

The blade turned inward. It sank straight into his throat with a sickening, wet sound.

“Ah, fuck!” Kelvin howled, the word gurgling as blood sprayed from the wound.

I let go immediately and stepped back, watching coldly as he dropped to his knees, clutching at his neck. 

Dark blood poured between his fingers, staining his shirt black under the moonlight.

“If you survive long enough to come after me one more time,” I said quietly, despite the adrenaline raging through me, “get a better weapon, Professor. It was almost fun doing this with you.”

He wasn’t going to die. Not immediately, seriously. If he dragged himself out of here and found help fast enough, he might live.

I turned away, resisting the urge to look back. The bastard had stabbed himself because his fighting skills were flatter than a kitchen counter.

I swung my leg over the bike and hissed sharply as pain flared across my forehead. That headbutt had split the skin. 

Warm blood trickled down my temple. I swiped at it with my palm, wincing. It wasn’t deep, but it stung like hell. I’d deal with it later.

Then came the sound that turned my blood to ice in my veins. The loud click of a camera shutter followed by a bright flash in the darkness.

I whipped around instantly. Whoever it was, he was already running away. I could see his moving figure trying to blend with the darkness as he scampered off.

Shit. Another fucking problem to deal with.