He says nothing, so I press his face a little further into the brick. “I need to hear you say that you understand me.”
“I understand,” he grits out.
“Good.” I release him, but when he tries to move, I grab him by the back of his collar again and introduce his face to the bricks one last time. The crack of his nose is a sweet sound, and when I let him go he staggers forward, one hand flying to his face. I step backward and look at him bent over in the alley, feeling nothing. “That’s so you don’t forget our conversation.”
I watch as he hurries away, never looking back. Then I go back around to the front of the building, cross the street, and lean against the side of my truck with my arms folded. And I wait.
It takes another twenty minutes before she exits the alley, but she stops the second she spots me. She stands there for a moment and then walks toward me.
“You’re still here?” she says as she reaches the curb.
“You’re observant tonight.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I saw you following someone outside.”
“I did.”
She glares at me. “I had him handled. Men like that always come into the bar—it’s part of the job.”
“So why didn’t you notify security? It’s their job to handle creeps.”
She rubs her chin with her fingers as if she is thinking it over. “Well, I should have made them remove you then.”
“You could try, but your efforts would have been better spent on a man who was hiding in the alley at the staff exit.”
She goes quiet for a second and then looks at me with suspicion. “What did you do?”
“We had a conversation.”
She huffs. “That’s not an answer.”
“He won’t be back.”
She stares at me, and I watch her decide if she wants to fight me more or just let it go. “Thank you,” she finally says, which shocks me and leaves me at a loss for words. I was preparing to face off against her.
“Get in,” I say, pushing off the side of the truck and moving to the driver’s door.
“I can walk—it’s five minutes.”
“Just get in the truck, Kayla.”
She holds my gaze for a second, then gets into the passenger side. Once she buckles herself in, I pull out onto the street. She is quiet and stares at the road ahead, instead of studying me the way she normally does when she thinks I won’t notice.
As I pull up outside her place and kill the engine, she reaches for the handle.
I get out of the truck and make my way around to her side just as she’s gotten out. I put one hand on the roof and the other on the door beside her. She gazes up at me in confusion. “What are you doing?”
I stare at her and don’t have a believable answer for my actions. I have been asking myself the whole way here why her, and I still don’t have an answer. It is something I am not used to. I always know exactly what I want and what I’m doing, but she has completely dismantled that for me, and I can’t decide if I’m pissed about it or not.
“You heard what I said to him today?”
“Kyle?”
I nod, and her brows furrow.
“She’s mine,” she says in a flat tone. “I heard it.”
“And?”
