CHAPTER 33
**ZION**
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Sweat drips down my face, blurring my vision as I relentlessly pound the punching bag at the gym. My knuckles scream for relief, and my arms tremble with exhaustion.
The rage that once burned like a wildfire in my veins now simmers, but it’s far from extinguished. That lying minx thinks she can waltz back into my life and play me for a fool. Acting all innocent, batting her eyes like she hasn't done anything wrong.
Fuck her.
“Jesus, man,” Clark says, stepping up next to me.
“You need to take a breath. You’re going to blow a gasket if you keep this up. Seriously, people are starting to notice. Maybe you should tone it down a bit before you attract even more attention.”
I glance over at him and catch a glimpse of genuine concern behind his playful tone. I stop punching and lean against the bag, struggling to catch my breath.
Her defiance today had pushed me to the edge. Seeing those pink panties—her blatant disregard for the ones I gave her—made my blood boil. It wasn't just the act of wearing something else; it was a direct challenge to my authority, a middle finger to my command. She didn't give a damn about my order to keep them on; she discarded them like they were trash like my words meant nothing to her.
My jaw clenched, and I could feel the heat rising to my face. Each breath came faster and harder, my vision narrowing with rage. The audacity she had to undermine me so openly made my fists itch for a fight. She was testing me, pushing boundaries she shouldn't, and the sheer disrespect was enough to make my hands shake with the urge to destroy something.
Earlier, the urge to seize her by the throat was almost too powerful to resist. I had to step away before I did something I’d deeply regret. Her blatant defiance has only fueled my rage, and I’m fighting to keep the storm of anger inside me from spiralling out of control.
"Zion..."
"Do you think I fuc*ing care if people are watching?" I snap, my voice edged with barely suppressed rage.
Clark raises an eyebrow, fully aware of the tempest raging within me. He knows everything about Winter and what she did, and he's all too familiar with my unyielding thirst for revenge.
"Okay," Clark drawls, rolling his eyes. His expression is critical and sceptical.
We both know this isn’t just about working out. When something pisses me off, I come here to let it out. It’s better than getting into fights and risking more assault charges.
There are only so many times a lawyer can keep me out of jail. Though, honestly, jail might be a welcome break right now—it would get me away from her.
“Look, man, I understand,” Clark says, his voice softer and filled with empathy.
“It’s been three years, and I can’t even begin to imagine how tough it’s been for you, seeing your mom with someone who isn’t your dad. Her getting remarried has to be rough, and I can see it’s taking a toll on you. And now, to make matters worse, the girl who started all this is living under the same roof as you.” He hands me a bottle of water, his eyes filled with genuine concern and sympathy.
“I just want you to know that I’m here for you, man. This anger, though—it’s not like anything I’ve seen from you before. It’s eating you alive, and I’m worried about what it might drive you to do." He paused, looking around, and sighed.
“I’ve seen you angry before, but this is something else. It’s like this rage is consuming you. You need to take a step back before it completely takes over.”
"You just have to hang in there, buddy. Just a few more years, and you'll be out of college. You can move away, or maybe she will. Either way, you'll have a chance to start fresh."
"I'm not leaving my mom with that bastard," I snap, my grip tightening around the water bottle.
"I don't know what his ulterior motive is or how he managed to manipulate my mom into marrying him, but I don't trust him, and I sure as hell don't trust his fucking daughter."
"Alright, calm the fuck down, bro..." Clark raises his hands in surrender, stepping back slightly. He knows better than to push me when I’m like this.
Clark shifts his stance, attempting to lighten the mood and diffuse some of the tension.
"You know, speaking of Winter, she's undeniably attractive. If dealing with her is getting to be too much for you, I could always step in. I mean, what are friends for, right?" He pauses, a playful smirk forming on his lips.
"She's got those killer curves in all the right places, and she's damn gorgeous. Honestly, if you let me, I’d have no problem stepping up and handling her myself. You could sit back and enjoy the show. Punishing her might be a bit of fun,” he says, his tone casual yet laced with a hint of mischief. "Just think about it—I'd be more than happy to take her off your hands and give her the kind of payback she deserves."
Rage flares up again, hotter than before.
“Don’t even think about stealing my chance at revenge,” I snarl my voice a low, threatening growl.
“This is my right, my opportunity to settle the score. Stay out of it. You have no idea what she's like, what she’s done. She’s not some piece of ass for you to drool over. She's poison."
“Chill, man, I’m just saying she’s hot...” Clark teases, a smirk playing on his lips.
I glare at him, not liking his words. “Yeah, any guy would notice that, but my hatred for her runs too deep for me to even think about her being sexy or fucking her. Besides, she doesn’t deserve the satisfaction. My body might react, but my mind knows better—she's a lying bitch.”
“What if I made a move on her? Would that bother you?” Clark asks.
A surge of jealousy churns inside me, and it infuriates me how she gets under my skin. I despise the way she affects other men and the control she seems to wield. Somehow, I manage to mask the jealousy beneath a veneer of calm.
I down the water and throw the bottle aside, my thoughts consumed by the need to make her pay for every slight, every act of defiance.
"Do whatever you want with her, but don't get too involved. You can sleep with her all you want, but I don't want her hanging around us. Sharing a house with her is already more than I can handle. Otherwise, you might find yourself facing my fists instead of that punching bag," I say, trying to keep my tone light. However, the idea of him being anywhere near her puts me on edge.
Despite my tough talk, I wouldn’t hurt him—not too much, anyway.
“Yeah, that's great. You know I'm always looking for a good fuck,” Clark replies with a grin.
I know him well. He’s just as much of a jerk as I am if not more. He plays the field differently from me; while I’m upfront about my intentions, he feeds girls whatever they want to hear, making empty promises just to get what he wants. Once he’s had his fun, he’s done and discards them like yesterday’s trash.
“Alright then, she’s yours. Have at it.”