I catch his eye and I signal for him to stay quiet.
“You wanna know what happens to women who pull that shit on me, you fucking bitch?” Naylor spits.
Rounding the corner, I flick off the safety of my gun, aiming it directly at Naylor’s forehead, right between his eyes. “Kick my girl and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
She’s lying on her side on the floor with her back to me, Naylor’s boot raised in the air, ready to strike her, the sight has white-hot rage burning through my veins.
His eyes meet mine, his mouth twitching with a grin.
He’s be waiting for this. He’s been waiting for me to come.
He drops his foot and takes a handful of Kaia’s hair, dragging her to her feet.
He pulls her towards him so her back is plastered to his front. His arm bands around her shoulders, keeping her fixed against his body, in his other hand is a knife. A knife he’s holding way too close to her. My eyes zone in on the deep bruise blooming across her cheek, the sight of it has me clutching the gun tighter, my finger twitching as it rests against the trigger.
Relief floods her features for a split second before fear takesover. “Killian, it’s a trap! He wanted you to come for me.”
My eyes soften as they hold hers. “I’llalwayscome for you, butterfly.”
All I want is to hold her. Kiss her. Beg her to give me another chance and never leave me. My life is meaningless without her because that’s what her love has given me. Meaning.Purpose.
Without it, withouther, I’m nothing.
“It’s been a long time,killer.” Naylor’s voice snags my attention.
My stomach clenches. That nickname alone has the power to transport me back to feeling like a scared teenager all over again. But I refuse to give him any more of myself. I refuse to give him any more control of my life.
He’s my past.She’smy future. Her and our baby.
“Not long enough.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “Is that any way to greet someone after twelve years?”
“As I said, not long enough.”
“You look good, killer. Beard suits you. Very…mature.”
“I’m not that naive teenage kid anymore.” My eyes dip to the knife in his hand, the closeness of the blade to Kaia has my heart in my throat. “Let’s cut the bullshit small talk, yeah?”
“Shame. I was looking forward to catching up, hearing what you’ve been up to since I last saw you.”
“Tell you what, you drop the knife, I’ll drop my gun and we can talk all you like?” I suggest.
“Not a chance, killer.”
“Fine. Well, I’m here. Just like you wanted. Let Kaia go and we’ll settle this, just you and me.”
“Let her go? Why would I do that when I went to all this trouble to bring her here?”
To the right of me, Watson grunts in pain as he shifts his position on the floor.
“Hang in there, Watson,” I say, not taking my eyes off of Naylor for even a second. Even without the knife in his hand, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. “If anyone’s gonna kill you, it’s gonna be me. Not this sick sack of shit.”
“Please let me help my dad,” Kaia begs, her eyes tearing up as she looks across to her father, her brows pinched with concern. She tries to break away from Naylor’s hold, but he only holds her tighter.
He lowers his mouth, letting his lips brush the shell of her ear. “You’re staying right here with me, sweetheart. I still need you.”
There’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he watches my face, gauging my reaction as his hand skims up and down Kaia’s body.
