Raised voices from the studio filter through to the break room, and Knight moves, lifting me carefully off him so he canstand up. A yawn splits my lips as I follow him toward the front of the studio, where Betty is standing side by side with Etta and shouting at someone that I can’t see.
“You are not welcome here, you asshole,” Betty shouts.
Striding forward, Knight seems to get taller as he closes in on whoever Betty is talking to, stepping around my friends to confront the person they’re asking to leave.
“I think you should go,” Knight says, his voice low and gruff.
“I’m not going anywhere,” a familiar voice says.
My blood turns cold as I step around my husband and straight into the path of Abel, my asshole ex.
“Octy,” he says, flashing me a smile that I always thought was happy, but was actually judgmental, as he glances at my outfit with appraising eyes.
“What are you doing here, Abel?” I ask, crossing my arms protectively over my stomach and the tiny poppyseed-size baby that’s growing inside of me.
“He’s leaving,” Betty hisses, her own pregnant belly protruding proudly as she stands on the stairs to the stage, her hands propped on her hips.
“You haven’t been answering my calls or responding to my messages, so I had to come here. I think we need to talk, don’t you?” he says, still smiling, like he’s a nice guy and not an utter fucking asshole.
“She has nothing to say to you,” Knight says, stepping into the space behind me, his huge body and lethally cold voice feeling like a layer of armor I had no idea I needed.
“I think that’s between me and my girlfriend,” Abel says, laughing like this is all just one big joke.
“Girlfriend?” I choke. “I am not your girlfriend, and I haven’t been for over six months.”
“We were together six and a half weeks ago, sweetheart. We had an argument, but I forgive you, and I’m here to take youhome,” Abel says, his chiding, patronizing tone hidden beneath a warm, approachable smile.
Abel takes a step forward, and I take one back, straight into Knight’s body. His arm curls carefully around my waist, and he moves me behind him.
“I don’t think you have a single thing to say that my wife is interested in hearing,” Knight says, taking a threatening step toward my ex.
“Your what?” Abel laughs.
“My wife,” Knight repeats, his broad shoulders and huge body seeming to double in size as he closes the distance again until he’s only inches away from my much smaller—and kind of pathetic looking in comparison—ex.
For the first time since I saw him, Abel reacts, his mouth dropping open as he stares up at the intimidating form of my husband.
“Oh my god, Octy, I know you wanted to get a reaction out of me, but did you really marry this goon just to piss me off?” Abel spits, eyeing Knight, then disregarding him as he turns his venomous gaze on me. “I know you like those disgusting daddy porn books, but surely you could have found someone a little closer to your age to use to get me to commit to you.”
“Fuck you, Abel,” I snap, striding forward only to be grabbed by Knight and placed firmly behind him again.
“Get your stuff, Octavia. I have a buddy who can sort out your little rebellion once we get home. Then next time, maybe we can just have a conversation, and you can tone down all your amateur dramatics.” Sneering, he runs his eyes over the adorable black-and-white harlequin-patterned skirt Knight bought for me. And he doesn’t bother to hide his disdain for the fitted black cropped T-shirt, white braces, white ankle socks, and chunky Dr. Martens Mary Janes I’m wearing.
“She is not going anywhere,” Knight growls, fisting the front of Abel’s shirt and using it to lift my ex off the ground, his feet dangling six inches in the air.
“Put me down,” Abel yells.
“She is my wife. She’s mine. She is not going anywhere.”
“She’s a fucked-up cocktease,” Abel yells. “She dresses like a fucking freak, but she was a virgin. I was expecting a hellcat, but all I got was a pussy. She’d be a smoke show if she dressed like a normal person. I put years into making her normal. She fucking owes me. She doesn’t get to leave me,” he yells.
“She’s perfect just the way she is. Black lace and babydoll dresses. My wife is everything, and you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. I’m going to enjoy seeing the wretched life bleed from your eyes, and then I’ll make your body disappear so no one ever finds it.” Knight’s words get darker and darker until Abel looks like he’s going to be sick.
“Octy, this isn’t funny, you fucking freak bitch. Call off your guard dog,” he yells, turning his terrified eyes on me.
But I’m not looking at him. I’m looking at my black eyed, completely out-of-control husband. Despite my love of all things black and gothic, I’ve never been turned on by violence until now. Seeing him this feral, for me, because of me, makes wetness pool between my thighs. Stepping forward, I place my hand on his arm.
“Knight.”
