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“No.” I’m upon him before I can think. “That’s mine! I paid for them." I lie. I’ve never paid for a damn thing in my life, but panic rushed the words along my tongue like little grappling hooks of hope that might allow me to keepthem.
Just them.
The sound of Lorna narrating my volatile actions to the cameramen does not impede my mission to get the damn case from the man’s grasp.
But he fights me.
I shouldn’t be surprised by the shriek that breaks from me as I wrestle to rescue them from this stranger. He’s big. Fat, actually. His belly shakes as he tries to keep hold of the case.
“Let go, young lady!”
He shoves me. The encounter ends when I drop back to my arse, my hands bracing my fall, the tiny shards of bitumen embedding in my palms.
Then I hear, “Touch her again, and I’ll bleed your brain through your ears.”
My eyes widen.
I look up, the sun cutting lines across Xander Butcher as he approaches the man. Holding his big, bruised hand out for the case in a smooth, effortless way. He isn’t requesting the item; he’s damn well expecting it.
“But- but- it’s my job.”
“The case,” is all Xander says, his voice deeper with the threat he made. Not a threat. A promise.
Xander’s back is to me, his large, trim,panther-likebody casting a shadow over my dumb arse still on the ground.
I scramble to my feet just as the fat man backs away slowly, placing the case on the grass in defeat. You don’t argue with a Butcher. Not in this town. Their town.
Snatching the case from the lawn, I ignore Xander and leg it down the street.Xander fucking Butcher.
What the fuck?
Two roads over, I’ve reduced my speed to a walk, heading towards the park to, well,parkmy arse, have a full-blown scream and tantrum, and regroup, when my phone starts to ring in my pocket.
My free hand hurts from taking my weight when I fell, and the other isn’t relinquishing the case, so… I let it ring.
I know who it is. The air thickens with expectation and, somehow, the scent of Giorgio Armani. So, it must be my mother. I can feel her impatience as though she were standing in front of me, clutching her necklace.
A car slows down beside me, but I square my shoulders ahead, eyes on the path. It rolls in my peripherals, set at the same pace as my stride.
“Hey, Woman.”
The sound of Xander’s voice brings tears to bite the backs of my eyes, but instead of crying, I speed up with my case in my fist. “Go away, Xander,” I state without looking at him. “I’m trying to have a meltdown, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind.” He pauses, and I fight the urge to look at him. “What was that about,Kaya?” His tone shifts from conversational to concerned.
I tighten my jaw. “Are you stalking me now?”
“I came to see if you were okay. Kaya Lovit, isn’t it? I saw you tagged in that dipshit Young’s Facebook photos. I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your name last night. Or… the previous night. I’m a blackout drunk. Not my intention to upset anyone. And that—” He suddenly growls. “Can you stop walking, Woman!”
I don’t. “No.”
“Fuck this,” he curses and speeds up before swerving the car over, mounting the sidewalk a few feet ahead, and blocking my damn path. He opens the driver’s door and steps out. “Where are you going?”
“To the moon.”
“Can I come?” he asks, sounding sincere.
I round the sleek black Jeep, but just as fast, Xander grabs me and pushes my back against the car. He releases me quickly but cages my body, making it hard to move with a hand placed on either side of my shoulders.
