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Burst into this ugly world.
I don’t even have time to think about if that’s good or care because Randall is saying ugly things. He’s talking about a woman he and the man holding me assaulted. I can barely listen as he talks about her age and the noises she made. All the while, he’s grinning as if he’s proud.
“Thank you for telling me that,” Kai says when he’s done.
“Yeah, yeah,” Randall says, annoyed with Kai’s lack of reaction.
“It’s good to know I don’t have to feel bad about what I’m about to do.”
Randall gestures with his gun. “Get moving now, and stop pointing that damn thing at me.”
“Close your eyes, Kay.”
There’s something urgent in his tone. My eyelids fall shut before I consciously tell them to. There’s no way I could ignore him when he sounds so ready.
And then… an explosion. I’m screaming. There’s something wet and warm dripping down my face.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Kai
“Keep your eyes closed,” I tell her, ignoring the slumped-over mess of the dead bodies. Adrenaline still pumps through me from the suddenness of the shooting. It all happened in a second, maybe two, but it felt much longer. It felt like slow motion.
“O-okay,” she whispers, shuddering all over.
I lean down—she slumped to the floor soon after the gunshot—gently take her by the hips and lift her up. “Don’t open your eyes,” I say as Randall’s body twitches, as bodies sometimes do when their owners are no longer here.
“Are they gone?” she says, her voice so full of tragedy and pain I want to roar at the unfairness of it. She doesn’t deserve this.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “They’re not going to hurt you. Nobody is going to hurt you, ever.Ever.”
I lift her into my arms, smoothing my hand to the back of her head and gently guiding her face to my chest. She doesn’t have to see the brutal side of the world. She doesn’t have to know how nasty things can get. I don’t want her ever to have to experience this.
Slowly, I carry her out of the gas station, pushing the door open with my shoe. I can hear sirens in the air. That’s good. The attendant called the cops. Carrying my woman across the street, I place her on the grass.
She slumps again. It’s not her fault. I help lower her to the ground so she doesn’t fall. Her limbs feel like Jell-O. Her instincts are trying to tell her that, any second, more dangerous men will appear.
“Can I open my eyes now?” she asks.
“I might have blood on me,” I tell her.
She laughs humorlessly, more like she’s pushing the pain aside as best she can. “I’d be a hypocrite if I judged you for that.”
She opens her eyes, smiles up at me, and then the smile disintegrates into a pained sob. She seems pissed at herself for letting out the tears, looking like she’s trying to fight them.
I kneel down. “It’s okay,” I whisper, reaching out and smoothing my hand over her back. I want to pull her into a proper hug, but I have to keep some of my attention on my surroundings. What if there’s a third man?
As my woman cries like her heart is shattering, I gently stroke her back, scanning the road and the gas station, the sirens getting louder. Kay finally rubs her cheeks and sniffles, battling the sobs.
“Thank you,” she says. “You saved my life.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” I growl. “Saving you and protecting you is my job. No, more than that. It’s my purpose, Kay.”
She takes one of my hands in both of hers, holds it tightly, leans forward, and kisses me. I lean down and press my lips against her forehead, letting her feel all the love flowing through me.
* * *
“That’s open and shut self-defense,” Jimmy says, folding his arms in his leather jacket and staring at the cop. “Look at the security tapes. He was trying to kidnap him and Kayla. He had every right to end those bastards.”
