Page 114 of Ice Queen

“But I might think about reconsidering.” My arms cross over my chest as I take a final step toward him.

“Kait…” Markus warns, the low growl of his voice sends a zap of forbidden energy straight to my stomach. It coils tight, almost enough to distract me from the task at hand.

I don’t turn around, I can’t. If I do, I’ll see the look on his face, and I’ll fold. I’ll tell him this is all part of the plan, that I just need to get it out of Wyatt first.

“Were you behind all the articles?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wyatt says, chin lifting as he looks down his nose at me. His tell.

“Okay then.” I start to turn, and when he takes a step toward me, I know I’ve won.

“I paid the bar owner to give me the footage of the night you ran,” he seethes. “I saw him help you into his truck. Imagine my surprise when a couple of days later, his face popped up on the game highlights, and I now had a name to put with it.” His finger points accusingly at Markus.

“I knew he helped you run from me. I knew who he was, thank you, ESPN. He’s living the life I should have been living. He freaking took away my ticket to the life I’m owed. The one that was secured when my ring was sitting on your finger.”

“She’s not a ticket, Sterling.” Markus is by my side in one step. “It was you outside her store that day, wasn’t it? Bet you didn’t think that one through when I moved her in with me.”

“Yeah, you ruined my plans more than once. Why do you think I had to start digging after that? You never left, comfortable playing house with what’s mine.”

“She’s not a possession, you asshat,” Markus spits. “And she certainly isn’t yours.”

“Shut up, Samuels.” Wyatt’s eyes blaze. “She’ll realize you aren’t shit and she’ll come running back to me.”

“No,” I say, stepping in front of Markus, my hand resting gently on the forearm hanging by his side. “He’s everything. He’s sweet, caring, and gentle. He loves me for me, without trying to change a damn thing. He doesn’t make me feel bad for the things I like. He notices when I don’t eat, and he feeds me. He doesn’t pinch my arms and tell me he knows where the very little carbs I eat go.”

“The hell?” Markus’ stick hits the ground with an angry smack. “You did that to her?”

“She had an image to maintain. Eating wasn’t the way to do it,” Wyatt says, like it’s common sense. “She didn’t seem to get the point, so I had to resort to more… extreme measures.”

“The diet pills…” I whisper.

He nods, a smug smile pulling at his lips. My God, this guy has zero awareness of how close Markus is to bashing his head in. I sway on my feet a bit, head spinning, I knew, but it’s a totally different thing to have it confirmed. One foot steps forward for balance, and that’s when all hell breaks loose.

Wyatt wraps his meaty hand around my bicep and pulls me straight out of Markus’ hold. A sickening sneer cuts across his face, and my body picks this moment to freeze. It’s all too familiar with what happens in close proximity to this man. He leans in, lips puckering, and my stomach rolls. I try to pull away, but he’s so much stronger than me.

At the last second, the blunt end of Markus’ stick lands in the center of Wyatt’s jaw. His hold on me releases at the impact, and I fall for all of half a second before Markus wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me backward. “You piece of shit,” Markus shouts. “You don’t get to touch her.”

Wyatt just smiles, that evil, vindictive smile that tells me he thinks he’s won. He moves his jaw back and forth, rubbing against the place where Markus hit him. “On the contrary.” He lunges for me again, only for Markus to step in front of me, holding his stick at chest height and shoving Wyatt hard enough that he hits the ground.

“No,” Markus growls. “You so much as breathe the same air as she does, I’ll make sure it’s the last breath you take.”

“I’ve heard enough.” Mr. Collins voice booms from behind us.

Yes.

Wyatt’s eyes grow wide, his head slowly turning to the side as he looks at Mr. Collins.

Mr. Collins is an intimidating man. Imposingly tall, but just as wide. His eyebrows are pulled low over his eyes, and his arms are crossed over his chest. His green eyes are so dark they look like moss. “It’s safe to say you’re fired, Sterling.”

Wyatt looks at me over Markus’ shoulder and winks. “See you soon, Princesa.” He walks down the hall, escorted by two security guards, with his hands in his pockets. Completely cool, calm, and collected, like he doesn’t think this is actually the end of the line for him. The swirl in my gut gives way to the notion that I don’t know that it is either. He’s finagled himself out of worse situations. I just hope Savannah can do what she says she can.

Markus tenses in front of me, and I slide my finger into his belt loop, pulling him back into me. “Thank you,” I whisper, placing a kiss on his bare shoulder. He relaxes slightly, but his eyes stay trained on Wyatt’s retreating form until he disappears around the corner.

Markus doesn’t say anything at first, but then he turns to face me, eyes filled with so many conflicting emotions that my head spins. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, gentle, anchoring like he needs to make sure I’m still here. I step into him, pressing my face to his bare chest, the dampness from his shower still clinging to his skin, the steady thump of his heart sounds beneath my ear.

“He pinched you?” he asks quietly into my hair.

I give my head a soft shake. I don’t want to relive it. I just want to move on. “It’s over, baby.” I pull back just enough to look at him. “It was over the second you pulled me out of that bar in Colorado. I just needed to get answers for why he pulled you into it.”