“You can’t do this. I won’t let you do this.” Spit flew from his mouth as he leaned in, his hands grinding her into the wall with a strength she couldn’t resist.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. Fear bolted through her at what she saw.
His eyes held the hatred of a killer.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
“Please, you’re hurting me.” Victoria’s words hit Cillian’s ears as he reached the top of the staircase.
Alarm spiked through him, and he sprinted toward her voice, the only open door on the balcony. Who could be in the house, hurting her?
He shot through the doorway.
A man pinned Victoria against the wall.
“Get your hands off her!” Cillian lunged at the thug. Ripped him away from Victoria. Landed a punch on his face.
The blond-haired guy stumbled backward, his hand going briefly to his nose. He made a fist and rushed at Cillian.
Cillian ducked under the guy’s wide swing and grabbed his waist, lifting him backward with a grunt and thrusting him to the floor.
The guy blinked up from the ground.
Cillian bent over and lifted the bully by the front of his jacket, fury and adrenaline streaking through his veins. “Don’t you even think of roughing up a woman again. Especially that woman.” He released his hold, letting the guy drop.
His head hit the floor as he fell. He groaned.
“Cillian, stop. I’m all right.” Victoria’s hand on his arm stopped him from giving in to the desire to punch the guy again, just to be sure he got the message.
But the thug used that moment to scramble away, getting to his feet.
“Stay back.” Cillian pushed Victoria behind him as he stepped toward the man.
He dodged Cillian’s reach and sprinted for the door.
Cillian started after him.
“No!” Victoria’s call stopped him. “Cillian, don’t go.”
She could be hurt. Needed his help.
He turned toward her then, the beautiful, heartbreaking woman he’d do anything to protect.
Strands of her hair had come loose from her bun, falling to frame her gorgeous face. He stepped close to her and touched a silky clump, slipping it behind her ear. He let his knuckles brush her cheek.
She sucked in a quick breath at his touch, making his heart thud into his ribs.
“I heard you say he was hurting you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I was only trying to get him to let me go.” But her hand went to her left shoulder to rub it.
He had hurt her. If he hadn’t gotten away, Cillian would gladly pummel him some more. But Victoria needed him right now. She wouldn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. An emotion he rarely saw in her eyes colored the hazel orbs. Fear.
His throat tightened. He should’ve stayed with her in the house, not agreed to split up. “Do you know who he was? Where he came from?”
“Ryan Briscoe, Thomas’s nephew. He must have entered the house after we did. Or he was already in one of the other rooms and heard us.” She crossed her arms and rubbed her hands along the sleeves of her coat. Another sign of fright he hadn’t seen her show before.
