Pretty In Pain

CHAPTER FOUR - DANGEROUS PROTECTOR

Remington

Blood tastes like rust in my mouth.

My knuckles are raw, split open, dripping red across the pavement. I don't even know how many I've hit-one, two, three? Doesn't matter. They were laughing. They were touching their screens with her words plastered across them like graffiti.

Ariella Kingsley wants Remington Cole to ruin her.

That's what they saw. That's what they dared to mock.

And now they're learning the price.

I slam another guy against the wall, his head cracking back against brick. "Say it again," I growl, voice low, dangerous.

"I-I didn't-"

My fist cuts him off.

The crowd has gone quiet, just the sound of fists against flesh, the wet thud of violence. Some are filming, but I don't care. Let them. Let the whole damn school see what happens when someone touches what's mine.

Because she is mine. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

I shove the last i***t down, chest heaving. My vision swims, rage still boiling, not satisfied. Never satisfied.

Then I hear it.

"Ariella."

Her voice. Soft. Terrified.

I freeze, head snapping up.

She's standing at the edge of the courtyard, pink sweater glowing against the gray concrete, eyes wide and glassy. Her phone clutched in her hands like a shield.

And she's looking at me like she doesn't recognize me.

Fuck.

---

Ariella

He's a monster.

No-he's beautiful. Terrifying. The boy I thought I knew-always smirking, lazy, untouchable-he's gone.

This Remington is something else entirely.

His fists drip blood, his chest rises and falls like he's about to explode. And the way he looks at me-hungry, feral, dangerous-it steals the air from my lungs.

The guys on the ground groan, clutching broken noses and split lips. Some stumble away, others glare like they'll get him back later. But none of them dare move close.

Because Remington Cole isn't just a boy anymore. He's a warning.

And I'm the reason why.

"Remi..." My voice cracks. I don't know what I'm begging for-for him to stop, or for him not to stop.

His eyes lock on mine. The rage softens, just a fraction. Enough that he drops his hand, flexing bloody fingers like he's remembering where we are.

He stalks toward me, slow, deliberate, each step pulling the world tighter around me. My back hits the wall. Nowhere to go.

"You saw?" His voice is gravel, rough with fury.

I nod, throat dry.

"Good," he says. "Then you know."

"Know what?"

"That I'll kill anyone who touches you. Anyone who laughs at you." He braces one hand against the wall beside my head, leaning close. The scent of sweat, blood, and something darker wraps around me. "You think I'm your secret? I'm not. I'm your f*****g shadow. And I don't share."

My knees go weak. I clutch my phone tighter, nails biting into my palm.

"Remi-"

"Tell me, Ariella," he murmurs, eyes burning into me. "Every word on that blog... is it true?"

---

Remington

Her lips part, trembling. Her throat works as she swallows.

She doesn't answer.

Not with words.

But her silence tells me everything.

Yes.

She wrote it. She meant it. Every filthy, dangerous, perfect word.

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to grab her, to prove her right here against this wall. To make her understand what she's asking for.

But she's too young. Too soft. Too breakable.

And I'm already breaking my promise to stay away.

"I warned you, Ariella," I whisper, my forehead pressing to hers for just a second. "You don't know what you're begging for."

Her breath hitches. She smells like sugar and strawberries and temptation.

If I stay one more second, I'll ruin her.

So I push away, leaving her against the wall, wide-eyed and shaking. My hands still bleed. My chest still burns.

And all I can think is:

One day soon, she's going to force me to stop holding back.

---

Ariella

He walks away.

Just like that.

After tearing the courtyard apart, after threatening to kill for me, after looking at me like I was the only thing in the world-he just leaves.

And I'm left standing against the wall, shaking, heart thundering, pulse throbbing between my legs in a way I don't dare admit.

Because he's dangerous.

And I think I want him to be.