Maisie
Quinlan stumbled, grabbing his jaw and stretching it like he wasn't sure it was still attached to his face.
"You really want to do this here? Because you're too much of a pussy to admit you wished you had fucked and marked her first? Oh, I forgot. Mommy dearest wouldn't approve, would she now?"
Mercer lunged for Quinlan, who ducked and grabbed Mercer, hurling him across the hallway. Mercer crashed into the lockers, shattering the metal and the walls behind it, and the students scattered.
"Stop it," I said, but I might as well not have been there.
My mouth dried as I watched them. I'd seen them throw jabs at each other and fight like children over small things, but never in public. Not like this.
In the blink of an eye, Mercer was on his feet again, eyes black. "I'm the pussy? At least I didn't spend nine months drowning at the bottom of any bottle I could find and snorting lines of shit to forget, only to crawl back to the same pussy that called you a whore's son."
