Then a plaintive voice yells weakly to me from the other room. “Leith?”
Paisley.
As soon as he hears her voice, he’s after me. In one quick move, he grabs a knife from the kitchen counter and brandishes it, but I don’t even let that break my stride. I kick it out of his hand, grab him by the shirt, and throw him against the wall.
“Get him!” he yells to his friends, when Tate and Mac enter in behind me.
“Oh, excellent,” Mac says with a grin. “We’ve come to the fight party?”
Someone grabs me from behind, and Tate’s after him with a roar.
“Cairstina, go get her!” I shout to her, but she’s already halfway down the hall.
The guy from the door comes at me, but I deck him, relishing the feel of bone snapping when my fist connects. I grab him by the shirt and haul him up in front of the others. Tate’s got one on the floor and he’s savagely kicking him, and Mac’s got another in a headlock.
“Who’s Jack?” I ask, my voice deadly calm, when I see Cairstina and Paisley. I nearly lose my fucking mind.
Paisley’s covered in a sheet, and she’s got a fat lip. Cairstina’s enraged, I can tell by the way her face is splotched red.
“Who’sJack?” I roar. They all point to the man in my hands.
“Don’t kill him, brother,” Tate mutters, breathing heavily from nearly fucking killing the douche on the floor. “But you can make him wish he was never fucking born.”
I hold him up by the shirt. “What did you do to her?” I turn to Paisley. “Did he do this to you?”
She nods.
I see fucking red.
I kick him in the stomach and when he doubles over, I knee his jaw. His head snaps back, and he groans, but I don’t fucking care. I hit him again, and again, until blood splatters on the floor and wall with every sickening blow.
“Leave him, brother,” Tate says, his own attacker passed out in a pool of blood. Mac’s got the third still conscious.
“You tell your fucking friends you will forget her name,” I tell him. “And you write this date down. You remember this well. This is the day you almost fucking died.” I give him one more vicious kick and he slumps against the wall. He could be dead, and I don’t fucking care.
I turn to Paisley. She’s gripping Cairstina, her shoulders shuddering. She looks at me warily, as if she’s afraid I’m going to lecture her for coming here, for putting herself in danger, and God if that isn’t the first time I finally realize Ihavebeen too strict. She thought it necessary to run away. She doesn’t know that all I want is for her to be safe.
“C’mere,” I say, my voice choked with emotion and from the effort it takes to control myself. I take her from Cairstina and embrace her, holding her to me. She’s so little, so young. Mum never planned on having another child and calls her the bonusbairn, the one she never thought she’d have. She’s so much younger than I am and Jesus, I may’ve overstepped my damn role.
“Let’s get her home. Do you have your things in another room?”
She nods, but Cairstina’s already after them.
The bloke I beat lies on the floor, his eyes partly opened. I point my finger at him as I take her home.
“If you ever come anywhere near her again, I’ll kill you. Slowly, and painfully.” I mean every fucking word. I don’t care about the consequences. He’s lucky he still draws breath.
I hand Paisley to Tate. I won’t let Cairstina walk in the snow in her bare feet. I pick her up and thank her.
“May not have found her without you.”
We make it back to the car, and Fran’s waiting on the side of the road.
“My God!” she shouts. “I was afraid if I left the cars someone’d call the police or nick them so I stayed. Is she okay? Paisley?”
Paisley nods. “I’m fine. Little banged up.”
Fran’s eyes flash. “And I hope your prick of a boyfriend’smorethan a little banged up,” she says, her eyes flashing at me.
