I didn’t hesitate. I ran after her.
Storming down the stairs leading to the entrance, I sprinted through the empty reception area before pushing through the doors to the main floor and scanning my surroundings. I couldn’t believe this was somewhere I’d once sought comfort. Tonight was the opposite with the filthy, loud atmosphere hitting me like a fist. The scent of spilled beer and sorrow clawing at my nose.
In my suit, I was out of place, and judging by those close enough to recognise me, that was exactly what they were thinking too. Although, if they looked closer, they would have seen thefamiliar swell to my blood covered hands and known, perhaps I belonged here more than I liked.
A familiar voice caught my attention and then everything else disappeared.
Right there in the middle of the dystopian playground, like a dream wrapped in a nightmare, stood Evangeline. She stood toe-to-toe with Marcus, her hand shoved in his face like she had nothing to lose.
And I knew that look. I knew that wrath. Could almost hear the draconian venom she was firing and if we were anywhere else, the fire alone would have made me hard.
But that thought evaporated as quickly as it arrived when Marcus stepped forward with a sneer curling across his face and grabbed her by the wrist. My eyes zeroed in on where he had his fist gripped around her wrist like he had a fucking death wish.
Then another movement behind her. A man, half-drunk and mean-eyed, slipping through the crowd like a snake, zeroing in on her back.
“Fuck no,” I breathed, everything inside me going quiet. Cold.
Then red.
I didn’t think, I just moved.
I shoved through bodies, knocked over a table in my way and when someone behind me shouted my name, I kept moving. All I saw was her. The danger she was in. And the way I would burn this whole fucking place down before I let anyone touch her.
Just as that second filthy scumbag’s hands reached to grab her from behind, I ripped him around to face me, delivered one solid bone to jaw punch, and he dropped, out cold before he hit the ground.
Marcus looked up, startled, “Hey-” he started, but I was already turning to him, eyes locked. A sniper with his finger on the trigger, locked and loaded, set to act.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growled, each word precise,a level of anger he’d seen hundreds of times but never aimed at him.
He threw up his hands, attempting to backpedal out of a situation where he’d willingly put his fucking paws on her.
“It’s not what you think. She came to me alright. It’s my stupid nephew. He’s got himself into a bit of trouble.”
“You are a thieving liar!” Evangeline seethed. “You never fucking cared about him. You, Preston, Grant, you’re all the fucking same. Selfish bastards who don’t deserve him.” The emotion was thick in her voice, and I knew when I could look into those eyes, they would be tear stained. “You’ve been using him, stealing from him and treating him like a pawn for years. But not anymore.”
Marcus scoffed. He fucking scoffed and something in his expression twisted, the same look my father dared to fucking give her before he turned to me. “She’s a crazy little-”
I didn’t let him finish, a predatory rage for the woman I loved taking over as I gripped his collar and yanked him away from her.
Two quick strikes, one to the gut, one to the jaw, and he was down, groaning on the floor with blood spilling from his lip. I stepped back, chest heaving, the red haze licking to take over, eyes darting for anyone else who wanted to play tonight.
“If anyone ever fucking thinks of going near her, of fucking touching her,” I roared to a now quiet room, the fury sounding foreign even to my own ears, “it will be the last thing you fucking do.” My breathing was erratic, the urge to hurt, to maim, to destroy coursing through me, only everyone was backing away.
Other than Sebastian who was holding Evangeline as if she needed restraining.
Her eyes were wide. Fear etched across her face. Not at Marcus who was still moaning some bullshit, not at the drunk out cold on the floor, but at me. Shaking her head slowly, the tears were falling freely now but she wasn’t saying anything.
“Evy, are you okay?” I asked, voice rough. The terror in those big brown eyes was the only thing able to pull me fromthe fight.
“I’m sorry,” I said, desperate for her forgiveness, desperate for her not to fear me. Devastated that she’d had to witness me like that again, raw and unravelling, all the parts someone as perfect and innocent as her should never see.
This is it. I’ve lost her.
“I’m sorry, Evy,” I repeated, my voice cracking as I stepped towards her and Seb loosened his grip.
I wanted to reef her into me but through a sheer force of strength I maintained some space.
Gave her space from me. Space to run.
