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I don’t even know why I care, but I do. I don’t want him to see me this way, especially with that damn look on his face.
Looming over me and staring me down, there’s this strange intensity in his gaze. A feral intensity that both terrifies me and excites me at the same time.
As I take in his heaving chest and the sweat glistening on his skin, I don’t know if I should throw myself at him or run away, screaming.
Before I can make up my mind, somehow my hand ends up in his hand and he pulls me up to my feet.
Grabbing me by my hips to help steady me, his eyes continue to bore into mine, never deviating, as he asks, “Are you okay? I saw that fucker take you down…”
His voice drops back down to an angry growl and I find myself shivering. What the hell? Is he half beast?
And why the hell do I find the sound of him growling so damn satisfying?
Still trapped in his eyes, at first words fail me. But as his gaze grows darker and darker, I finally manage to tear my attention away.
“I’m okay,” I offer softly.
Honestly, now that Tristan is gone and Casey is safe, I wish this whole thing would just go away.
I sure as fuck don’t want to have to explain it in any way.
“Are you sure?” Emmett’s hands leave my hips and then his warm palms are cupping my cheeks. Gently turning my face back to his face, his eyes dart all over me, searching. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
God help me, the way he’s touching me feels too damn good. It’s only his palms on my cheeks, but there’s something about the sensation of his skin against my skin that’s totally fucking with me.
Yet again, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Now is so not the time for this. After getting knocked around, I shouldn’t be getting all weak in the knees over this guy.
I open my mouth with the intention of downplaying what happened so I can make my escape, but Casey decides now is the best time to chime in with, “He also shoved her into a wall before I took him down. She’s hit her head twice.”
I start to scowl, but then Emmett’s face darkens. There’s so much anger, so much pure rage in his eyes, it’s almost awe-inspiring.
Like staring at a painting that moves you and disturbs you at the same time.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Emmett snarls.
And I don’t doubt for a second that he won’t do exactly that. Shit. Before I can even come up with an argument about why that’s a bad idea, a very bad idea, Casey says, “Me too.”
Fuck my life.
The last thing I need is these two getting involved in all the drama surrounding me.
Especially Casey.
Emmett must realize this too because he gives a little shake of his head as if he just realized what Casey said, then he asks with a bit of awe, “You took him down?”
“Yeah,” Casey says, puffing his chest up with pride.
Emmett grins. “That’s my boy.”
My ears must be deceiving me, and I must have hit my head harder than I thought because there’s no way he’s encouraging that little boy toward violence….
But fuck me if the two of them don’t seem to share a moment. Like they’re truly bonding or something.
And I’m so damn disturbed by what I’m seeing, I start to unconsciously pull away from Emmett.
Only to have his arms lock around me and pull me back.
“Two hits, huh?” he asks, his face growing serious once again as his attention returns to me. “Should we call the doc?”
