Rage Unleashed
Ryland I was already moving. Didn’t think. Didn’t f*****g hesitate. That motherfucker’s hand on Krystal? His smug, entitled bullshit? No. That wasn’t flying. That wasn’t f*****g happening. My blood was pure fire, my vision tunneling on the bastard as I took a sharp step forward, ready to tear him apart— And then a heavy hand clapped down on my shoulder. Not just any hand. Vincent Blackwell. “Not now, son,” he said, voice smooth, low. The kind of tone that expected obedience. Didn’t even look at him. Couldn’t. My eyes were still locked on Krystal, my nerves prickling, my skin burning. That f**k had slapped her ass. Slapped it. And I was supposed to just stand here? No f*****g chance. I barely heard whatever the hell Mr. Blackwell was saying. Something about kee
- Writer
