Chapter Fifteen - Burn Me, Break You
1388 Words
Avery stepped back into the bar like she hadn’t just been dismissed like a damn schoolgirl.
Her heels hit the floor with purpose. Her chin tilted just high enough to challenge anyone who stared too long. And they were all staring.
Because her dress still clung to her hips like sin.
Because her eyes still held something wild.
And because Colt Mercer had sent her out cold—and no one knew what the hell that meant.
She didn’t look at him. Didn’t glance toward the corner where he’d posted up again, beer in hand, talking low with Cal like he hadn’t just played her in his office and walked away like he won something.
She went to the bar.
Ordered a shot of bourbon.
The glass hit the counter with a heavy clink.
She downed it in one smooth throwback, wiped the corner of her mouth, and turned toward the room with fresh venom in her blood.
The man closest—Nico, tall and rough around the edges with a grin always waiting—was leaning against the jukebox.
She remembered him from the wake. Respectful. Careful. He wasn’t an i***t.
But he also wasn’t blind.
So when Avery walked over and leaned against the machine beside him, he blinked—once, slow—like he wasn’t sure he was about to get punched or seduced.
“Hey,” she said, lips curling. “You got any decent taste in music, or is it all Creed and ego back here?”
Nico chuckled, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “You looking to dance or start a riot?”
She shrugged. “Why not both?”
Behind her, she didn’t need to look to know Colt had stopped breathing.
Nico, poor bastard, wasn’t stupid. He glanced over her shoulder and swallowed. “You sure this is a good idea?”
Avery smiled wider. “It’s not. That’s what makes it fun.”
She reached past him, tapped a button on the machine—and the bass of a dirty blues-rock song kicked on like a warning siren.
Then she turned her back to the jukebox, let the beat roll through her body, and laughed—a real, dangerous sound—as she rested a hand casually on Nico’s chest.
Nothing overt. Nothing explicit.
Just enough to cross the line.
And that’s all it took.
She didn’t see Colt move.
But she felt it.
A shift in the air.
A change in temperature.
Then his hand was around her wrist—firm, hot, unrelenting—as he pulled her away from Nico like a predator reclaiming his kill.
“Outside,” Colt growled.
Avery’s heart hammered, but her smile didn’t falter.
“Problem, President?”
“Now.”
The whole bar went quiet as Colt dragged her through the main room and out the back door, slamming it shut behind them.
The night air hit hard.
So did his stare.
“What the f**k was that?” he snapped.
She yanked her arm free, eyes burning. “That? That was me letting you know I don’t beg.”
“You were about two seconds from starting a war.”
“Then maybe don’t treat me like I’m disposable next time.”
Colt stepped closer, chest rising and falling like a loaded weapon. “You think I don’t want you? That I don’t wake up with your name in my mouth and the need to tear every fucker in that room apart for looking at you too long?”
“Then show it!” she screamed.
And there it was—the c***k. The break. The rawest truth.
They stood there, breathing hard, inches apart, and suddenly the fight felt like foreplay. Like they were both one wrong word away from losing everything—or claiming it forever.
Colt’s voice dropped. Low. Rough. Controlled only by a thread.
“Say the word, Avery,” he said. “And I’ll remind you exactly who you belong to.”
She looked him dead in the eyes.
And for the first time—
She didn’t flinch.
The air between them cracked—sharp with fury, heat, and the weight of everything they’d been denying.
Colt’s hands were clenched at his sides. His jaw ticked. His eyes, always cool and calculated, were burning now.
But Avery didn’t back down.
She stepped closer, shoving her finger into the center of his chest.
“You want me to say the word?” she spat. “You want me to beg for you like some girl who doesn’t know any better?”
He said nothing.
She kept going.
“I’ve been saying it, Colt. You’re just not listening.”
His breath hitched—barely, but it was enough.
“I came back here. I stayed. I let you pull me into your world, into your bed, into your name,” she hissed. “And you think that’s not me choosing you?”
She shook her head, her voice sharper now, glass-edged.
“But I will never—ever—beg you for it. Not for your attention, not for your hands, not for your f*****g mercy.”
Her eyes shined with unshed rage.
“Because if I did, I’d feel like them. Like every girl who lined up for a piece of you in high school. Like every woman who waited around this place hoping they were special enough to be more than your favorite way to kill time.”
Colt looked like she’d slapped him—but he didn’t move.
Avery wasn’t done.
“I’m not going to be a whisper in the back of your head or a body you regret when the heat fades,” she said, voice low now, trembling with truth. “You either see me, choose me, fight for me—or you let me walk. But don’t you ever ask me to crawl.”
The silence that followed wasn’t empty.
It was devastating.
Colt didn’t reach for her.
Didn’t pull her in.
Didn’t say a word.
And for the first time since she returned, Avery saw the man who led the club with cold precision lose control without laying a single hand.
Her breath caught in her chest.
Because deep down… she knew:
That might’ve been the first time anyone ever told Colt Mercer no—and meant it.
The silence stretched.
The kind that could split skin.
Avery’s pulse thundered in her ears, her body tense, ready—half expecting him to yell, to walk away, to shut down like he always did.
But Colt didn’t yell.
He didn’t move for a long moment.
He just looked at her. Really looked at her.
And then… he broke.
Not with rage.
Not with pride.
But with something quieter. Something that cracked beneath all that steel he’d built around himself.
He stepped forward, slowly, and reached out—not to grab her, not to possess her—but to rest his hand gently, deliberately, over her heart.
“You think I don’t see you?” he said, voice low. Raw.
His thumb grazed the fabric of her dress, right over where her heart beat fast beneath his palm.
“I’ve seen only you since the day you walked down those high school halls like you were too damn good for the rest of us.”
She blinked, stunned. Silent.
“And maybe I let all the noise around me keep me from acting like it. Maybe I used the wrong things to feel in control. But don’t think for one second I don’t know what the f**k I’ve got in front of me now.”
His fingers curled slightly, just enough to feel her racing heartbeat.
“Because it’s not just fire, Avery. It’s you. And you’re the only one who ever made me want to burn.”
She didn’t speak.
Couldn’t.
Colt dropped his hand, just as slow.
“I won’t ask you to crawl,” he said. “But I will meet you where you stand.”
Then he turned—not to leave, but to walk back inside, leaving the door open behind him.
Not a command.
Not a challenge.
An invitation.
And for the first time, Avery felt something deeper than want swell in her chest.
Trust.
- Writer
