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Badly enough that she’s standing on stage, clearly terrified, wearing clothes that aren’t hers, pretending this is who she can be.
It’s not.
But I’ll let her think it is a little longer.
Paisley moves toward the prick waving the bills, her eyes locked on the money like it’s the answer to her prayers.
But when she leans down to reach for them the son of a bitch pulls them back, a taunting grin on his face.
She stretches a little more, focused on the cash instead of the piece of shit attached to it.
And it’s clear the asshole plans to keep the money in his hand because the cash always stays just out of her reach.
Right as the tips of her fingers brush the bills, the dead man grabs the front of Paisley’s bra, twisting the center clasp open and baring her breasts to the crowd.
Carlos and I move at the same time, jumping across the stage in unison.
I want to get my hands on the bastard who thought he could touch what belongs to me.
To do it against her will.
But Carlos shoves me hard with one shoulder, using his substantial weight to change my trajectory. “Get her.”
I only hesitate for a second. The need to punish is overwhelming.
But then I hear her.
The soft sound of a sob cuts into a wound I’ve carried forever.
One I thought would eventually heal.
I give the man who touched Paisley one final look, memorizing his face before I turn away.
But the sight of her threatens to send me over the edge of the stage with Carlos.
One hand is pressed to her mouth as Paisley tries to smother her crying while the other is wrapped across her breasts. Her body is curling it on itself, shoulders hunched, head dropped as she staggers back from where Carlos’s hefty body tackles the prick to the floor.
I shuck my jacket and fling it around her body, the need to hide her from everyone else’s prying eyes overwhelming.
Paisley’s watery gaze snaps to my face and her eyes widen even more. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m getting you the fuck out of this place.” I scan the room as chaos takes over. Bouncers are shoving through the bodies packed into the space, knocking them out of the way as they rush to where the table of frat boys is trying to fight their friend away from Carlos.
They won’t be successful. Not in saving him from Carlos, and definitely not in saving him from me.
Because I will find him. There’s nowhere in this city he can hide from me.
But first I need to get Paisley out of here and away from this world that isn’t hers.
I pull her against me as I look for the closest exit, scanning the sea of faces.
A familiar one stops me.
Frederick sits in the darkest corner of the room, one of his men situated on each side of him, sipping a drink like the whole place isn’t in an uproar.
His cold eyes fixed on the woman at my side.
