Nathaniel's smirk set my blood on fire. The bastard had the nerve to stand there as if he hadn't just crossed every damn line.
His face, that smug expression, was begging to be rearranged. Every instinct in me screamed to make him pay, to make sure he knew never to mess with what was mine.
Before I knew it, my fist was flying toward him, fueled by a rage I couldn't control. The satisfying crack of bone meeting bone reverberated through my arm as my knuckles collided with his jaw. He stumbled back, his hands flying up to his face in shock.
I didn't give him a chance to recover. Another punch landed squarely on his cheek, sending him sprawling to the ground. He looked up at me, dazed, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise. Good. Let him be scared.
Let him feel what it's like to have someone bigger, stronger, ready to tear him apart.