Episode 28| Who's at Fault?

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Bryce's POV

Before punching Remy, I hadn't considered what Sophia's response to my impulsive actions would be. I didn't think she would congratulate me with a celebratory blowjob, but the cold shoulder she was giving me now in the car wasn't expected either.

A pat on the back would've been nice.

You would have thought I pummeled her grandfather with a cane from the way she was scowling me, gripping the steering wheel of Kelsey's car.

There wasn't much thinking behind the first punch. I fed off the rage and rod the wave of anger until it ultimately led me to ramming my fist into Remy's cocky little smirk.

During the drive to my apartment, I snuck glances at Sophia. Seeing her shaking with rage made me reconsider my initial thoughts. After the fight, I had said I didn't regret my violent outburst, but that was starting to change –and it was changing drastically fast the longer we stayed in that car.

I should've started with a shove. And then I could've worked my way up after that.

Progress. That's what I lacked.

No, composure. That's what you lack.

Those sensible thoughts seemed to belong to the shut-off region of my brain. Where was that part of my brain when I decided to knock Remy Annenberg out? It was nowhere to be found when I had Remy pinned under me, swinging punches into him.

"You're dripping on the mat," Sophia noted, scolding the open road.

Her first sentence to me weren't in regards to the fight, but the blood that was leaking from my busted knuckles. For some reason, that bothered me.

"You can say it," I insisted, hovering my wounded fist over my knee. I would have to tend to the cut when I got home. "I know you're thinking it."

Her nostrils flared. "Oh, yeah? Then what am I thinking?"

"You're disappointed, for one."

"You're awfully wrong about that, Bryce. I'm pissed off. Disappointed doesn't cut it." She fixed her eyes on me for a second, then shifted them back to the road. "Honestly, what did you think you were accomplishing? Do you have any idea who his father is?"

I snorted. "That's what you're mad about? Who his father is?"

"That's one of the reasons. But above all, I'm annoyed that you had to resort to violence –and for what reason? Because he decided to dance poorly in front of a crowd? You didn't prove anything by beating him up."

"You know that's not why I did it," I mumbled with tight lips, facing the window and suddenly finding an interest in the night sky. A long row of trees on Hope Street blocked the view of the moon.

"No, I don't know why you did it." She maintained her stern tone. "Why don't you enlighten me? Why did you exactly beat Remy to a pulp? Hmm?"

I strained a breath, observing the store names that came into view when she took a left. "I didn't do it for us to get in a fight."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have literally lunged at Remy if that's the case," she said briskly, veering like a madman into the single street that connected with my apartment complex.

I grasped for the oh-shit handle overhead, recuperating from her sharp turn. "When I got in the car, I didn't sign up for this discussion. If you think making you mad was my goal, then you're very wrong, Sophia. That wasn't what I was aiming for."

"Then what was it?" Sophia cocked her head to side. She had made a complete stop at the gate. She didn't lower her window to put in the access code, though. I held her full attention, not by choice may I add.

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