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I take it back. She just doesn’t want any drama in her lowlife boyfriend’s place and is probably scared for his cousin’s life.
Which is legitimate since if he weren’t my muse’s brother, he’d be driven up the wall with my fist as we speak. Then probably shipped to a mental institute that he so desperately needs.
“I didn’t go through all the trouble of bribing incompetent security guards just to leave.” My gaze meets Mia’s horrified one.
She’s taken a step forward, and one of her hands is balled into a tight fist. A part of me soars at the idea that she’s worried about me, after all, but it soon crashes and burns when she grabs onto her brother’s arm.
“He’s not worth it, Niko.”
That’s what she signs—with a straight face, I might add.
Did she just say I’m not worth it?Me? Landon fucking King?
Nikolai obviously disagrees and definitely thinks—like everyone else who isn’t Mia—that I’m well worth it since he raises his fist again.
Killian subtly pulls Glyn from the middle of the action so that she’s once again in his overrated protective cocoon.
“Time out.” I lift a hand in front of Nikolai. “Before you proceed with your attempts at rearranging my features, allow me to clarify an important element. I happen to be in the process of courting your sister, and any attempts at ruining my face will not play in the favor of said task.”
Everyone is stunned into silence, including Nikolai, whose fist remains suspended in midair. I like to call this the Landon effect—quite powerful and pleasing to watch.
Mia is the first one who recovers and graces me with the glare of all glares; lips pursed and eyes blazing with fire.
She’s the holiest view I’ve ever stumbled across, and I’m not a religious person by any stretch of the imagination.
“I’m going to fucking kill you before you lay a hand on her.” Nikolai flings forward.
“Oh, that’s already done.”
Another pause.
Another myriad of beautiful, stupefied expressions that are a product of my words.
“What the fuck did you just say?” This time, Nikolai has enough patience to speak slowly.
“I said.” I close the distance between us so we’re eye to eye. “The touching part already happened. In fact, our rendezvous included more than touching, but I’ll spare you the details since you’re her brother.”
“You fucking—” He pushes into me and I’m about to let him pummel me to the ground for Mia’s difficult sake, but Bran moves in front of me and takes the punch.
My brother staggers back and falls against my chest.
The change of events is so fast-paced that everyone takes some time to come to terms with the new variable in the equation.
My idiotic fucking brother.
I grab him by the arm so that he doesn’t fall sideways and inspect the cut on his lower lip and the blood that’s gushing from it.
The motherfucker who would be dead if he didn’t have a blood relationship with Mia got him good. Bran shakes his head a few times as if he’s fighting a concussion. While I’m fine with violence and do strive for it whenever possible, Bran is literally squeamish about blood.
I pull out a tissue and help him wipe the shit off his lip as he struggles to remain standing.
Nikolai doesn’t move, his jaw ticking and his muscles tightening until the veins bulge. Killian, Jeremy, and Mia pull him back and, unlike what I expect, he doesn’t fight it.
Instead, he points his glare at his sister. “Is it true?”
She freezes, and any attempts to calm her brother down come to a staggering halt.
“Is what the fucker said true, Mia?” he asks again, his voice filled with enough tension to start a nuclear war. “Have you been sleeping with him?”
