Caleb's POV
I couldn't pinpoint the source of this rage burning through my veins, couldn't put words to the storm raging inside my chest, but the fury was there, consuming everything in its path.
The hatred I felt for Bonita right now was unlike anything I had experienced before. It was raw, violent, and demanded action that I couldn't even begin to articulate. I stopped walking abruptly, staring down at my leather shoes against the polished floor.
What exactly did I want to do? Why was every word she had spoken carving itself so deeply into my mind, taking up residence there like an unwelcome tenant?
This was madness.
Just because her scent could scramble my thoughts and leave me reeling didn't give me permission to act like a wild animal. It didn't justify surrendering to these twisted, overwhelming urges that clawed at my self-control.
I needed to pull myself together, needed to regain some semblance of sanity.
