113. Psycho Pathetic Man

“Emara!” 

A roar passes through me and I turn to see Dakota striding towards me with his long legs. His eyes dark, narrowed down at me in slits like an animal on hunt.

*Oh god, not him again!*

My heart pounds with panic and I immediately walk away from his brooding presence, scared to face him again.

“Where are you going?” He yells, catching up to me. 

“Away from you.” I say, quickening my pace. 

But a hand grabs my arm with force and my body jerks back, facing those barbaric eyes again, which I am desperately trying to run away from. 

“You still haven’t told me.” He growls at my face. “What did he say to you?” 

I stare at him in disbelief, *how can someone be so heartless?* 

He has no sense of conscience, no guilt for what he did to me and only wants to know one thing for god knows what egoistic reason.

“You are a monster and I hate you so much.” I spit out every word from the bottom of my bleeding heart. 

Dakota leans in. The way he is staring down at me makes my stomach churn. It is a familiar sinking feeling of terror.

“What did you two talk about?” He demands an answer, completely ignoring my anger and tears. 

*I can’t believe I ever felt an ounce of pity for this psycho-pathetic man!*

In time, the black colour car halts in front of us and I recognise the growling symbol of animal. Avoiding him I get inside the car, only to see him get in as well.

The tension inside the car thickens by every second. I look outside the window, ignoring the agitated presence beside me. 

I hear his rapid deep breaths, as if trying to calm himself, but failing miserably.

“Can you *fucking* tell me now what you two talked about?” Dakota growls in a voice that drips with both anger and desperation. 

“It was not about you, if that’s what bugging you.” I reply, staring at the passing street.

“That’s not my question, Emara.” His dense voice cuts through the air like knife. “I want to know what he said to you.” And utters every word like a madman.

As if that’s the only thing that matters to him.. *What Ryan told me!*

“Why do you even care?” I spit back, frustrated by his repetitive interrogation. 

I watch him take an unstable breath of chaos as he clenches his fists till his knuckles turn white, before redirecting his eyes at the driver. 

“Because..” 

The atmosphere gets unpredictably dense. It feels like I am sitting next to a psychopath who is restraining to attack because there are too many witnesses. 

“I.. care.” Green eyes pierce through me, raw and sharp, while he lowers his voice, “Now tell me.” 

I shake my head in disbelief, “I don’t understand your crazy obsession with Ryan, or why does it even matter to yo-”

“I am not obsessed with Ryan.” Dakota interrupts sharply, like my words speared him.

“You may not realize, but you are!” I retort, raising my voice in frustration. 

“All you care about is what he said to me, and that bet you made with him years ago. I even saw his pictures in your drawer, I don’t know why you are still holding on-”

“You did WHAT?” 

My heart tightens with fear as Dakota unleashes an animalistic snarl, as if I stabbed a nerve I wasn’t supposed to even mention. 

“You went through my stuff? Without my permission!” His eye blaze with a fury I have never witnessed before, a dark, swirling rage that would even terrify a grown up man. 

“You are speaking about permission? When you violated me every-*damn*\-night without mercy, leaving permission aside!” I shoot back, despite the terror knotting in my gut.

His jaw tightens, and I clearly hear his teeth grinding. A silent storm of control and anger.

I turn away as hot tears rush down my cheeks, remembering how cutely he was flirting with me all evening, holding me so dearly, staring at me intensely, only to shatter it all with his brutality. 

The car slows down, and I spot his villa right across the gate. Without hesitation, I swing open the door, not waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete stop. 

*I can’t tolerate his presence even a second now!*

I clutch the end of my dress and stride across the driveway when I hear the sound of car door shutting behind me, followed by heavy ominous footsteps. 

“Emara! I asked you something.” Dakota barks, catching my pace. 

*I can’t believe he is still stuck on it!*

“We didn’t really talk about anything.” I yell back, quickening my steps towards the house. I just want to lock myself inside a bathroom and cry all night.

“You are lying!” 

A hand grips my elbow and I am jerked back, colliding into a wall. I look up to find Dakota breathing hard and glaring at me down with his pissed-off gaze.

“You were with him for four minutes and thirty-two seconds. He touched you. I saw it. Then he said something, and you ran away.” He states precisely, like reading from his pictured memory. 

I observe how his eyes are narrowed, eyebrows scrunched down with his lips thinned into a line, as if he is..

“You are jealous.” I watch his envious expressions getting darker every second as I conclude, “You are jealous that he touched me. That he talked to me.”

“Yes!” 

“I am *fucking* jealous.”

“Because he touched what’s mine!”

A shudder passes through me as Dakota admits directly, taking a step closer with his unflinched gaze locked down on me like a psychopath. 

“Now tell me, what the *fuck* did he say to you?”