“Blood is thicker than anything, remember?” The pathetic excuse of a man flails his legs, desperately trying to wrap them around Knox. His hands work too, tapping helplessly against Knox’s shoulders. “All we have is each other.”
The cuts on Knox’s body aren’t half as angry as he is. They don’t shine as bright.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I watch Knox with awe as he shakes Jett, proving his loyalty to me. “You know why, Jett?”
“Why?”
“Blood isn’t thicker than shit. Blood’s just blood.” Though his voice is low, there’s no mistaking how furious he is. “But my woman and I, there’s no separating us. Ever.”
The room rattles. The earth quakes beneath me. Each word hits hard, sinking straight into my heart.
And my pussy, though Jett had his filthy finger on it, finally feels clean in Knox’s presence. Hot. Wanting.
“I knew it.” Jett barks a choked laugh. “Two days and Hide-boy is in love. Papa wouldn’t believe it, but I could tell something was up with you. You’re fucking insane.”
“Two days, two years, makes no difference whatsoever. She’s mine. Always has been. Always will be.” Knox’s teeth flash, a rugged growl escaping him. “You, on the other hand, mean nothing to me. Even less now that you’ve touched what’s mine.”
“Don’t you dare use that tone with me.” Jett’s pale, his voice stripped of earlier conviction. “I’m your big brother.”
Knox doesn’t dignify the asshole with an answer. He raises him another inch.
The corner of my mouth quirks to the side. Jett has no idea how close he is to his death.
I do. And I don’t want to miss a second of it. Grinning, I drag my ass toward the two.
“Knox.” The look Jett levels him with is pleading. Pathetic. “You’re my?—”
“Mynothing.” Knox’s arm flexes as he slams Jett onto the hook viciously.
The barb goes right through Jett’s back, pushing an indignant cry out of him. Satisfaction rolls through me with each blood splatter flying out of his filthy mouth.
“No. Hell, no.” His chest heaves, his mouth going slack as shock takes over. He can barely breathe, his speech slurred. “This ain’t right. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“No one to blame but your own damn self,” Knox grits out. “You were dead the moment you set foot into my home.”
“Ma. Papa.” Jett’s pleas come out gurgled, drowned in blood and pain. No one’s going to hear him. “Help me. Help.”
Knox turns to look at me, his dark gaze roaming over my body. A low growl reverberates in his chest.
He’s tortured, agonized over what was done to me. For all the horrible shit that could’ve followed had he not woken up when he did.
“Trouble.”
“Yeah, she’s fucking trouble, all right?—”
Knox silences his idiot brother with a fist to his chest, not even bothering to turn around for the beating.
“Skylar.” Knox’s hand drops to his side, fist clenched still. He dips his chin, looking at me in that broody way of his. “You want to finish it? He’s all yours.”
“Yes.” I spin on my bum to offer him my bound wrists. “Please.”
I hear his familiar footsteps. His warmth closes in on me.
“And to think”—Jett coughs—“you’re going to kill your brother over a dry, ugly bitch.” He spits, coughing again. “The ugliest I’ve ever seen.”
“Changed my mind about you killing him,” Knox growls from behind me, his lips at my ear. “Sorry, Skylar. Can’t let him talk to you like that.”
“Okay.” No part of me feels indignant. No part of me feels cheated on.
