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In Sardinia, it was obvious that her parents’ marriage was riddled with infidelities.Her father brazenly flirted with multiple women at the engagement party.But now, as she shares this with me, it’s like she’s peeling back a layer, allowing me a glimpse into her vulnerabilities.We’re opening up, showing each other our scars.I grasp her hand a bit tighter, pulling her away from those haunting memories back to the present moment, from the complicated web of family issues to the simplicity of us, right here, right now.
“Thank you for trusting me with this.”My eyes meet hers as I tuck a strand of windswept hair behind her ear.
“You’re welcome, Kingsley,” she replies, her fingers tightening around mine.
I draw her closer, and she slips comfortably under my arm.
20
Victoria
We’re walking back from the beach, and a sense of lightness fills the air between Kingsley and me, talking and laughing like we’ve known each other for months, not a mere amount of weeks.I feel like I can share anything with this man.
It’s too quick, right?It’s too quick to fall in love with someone so soon.
But as soon as we step into the shopping area, screams rip through the atmosphere, shattering our bubble of contentment.“Madman!”“Knife!”Words fly, sharp and panicked, colliding into each other in the chaos.My heart kicks into high gear.
Every instinct screams at me to run.He grabs my hand, pushing our way through the crowd, and my eyes catch a terrifying scene.
A man, deranged and wielding a knife, staggers dangerously.A woman is on the ground nearby, gripping her injured leg but thankfully still conscious.My heart lurches into my throat.
Kingsley becomes a different person in that instant.His body tightens, his eyes lock onto the threat, and suddenly, he’s not just Kingsley.He’s a soldier, ready for action.
“Down!Get down now!”he barks at the crowd, his voice carrying an authority that compels obedience.“Behind that car!You two, inside that store, lock the door!”
He looks at me, his gaze intense and urgent.“Victoria, go hide behind that dumpster and stay down.”
I hesitate, gripping his hand tighter.The words are there, ready to spill from my lips.“Don’t go, stay with me.”Fear grips me at the thought of losing him.
“Victoria,” he repeats, more firmly this time, breaking into my paralysis.“You need to hide.Now.”
I see the urgency in his eyes but also the faintest trace of fear—not for himself, but for me.Reluctantly, I let go of his hand and retreat behind the dumpster he indicated, my heart pounding so loudly it drowns out the chaos around me.
As he runs off, my eyes follow him, watching as he rushes toward the danger with a blend of skill and daring that leaves no doubt about his abilities.
Huddled behind the dumpster, I risk a peek to keep Kingsley in my view.He’s rapidly closing in on the man with the knife, his movements both deliberate and deadly in their intent.Just as I catch my breath, the man lunges at Kingsley, knife aimed at his chest.Kingsley dodges it with a nimbleness that belies his size, a razor-thin margin separating him from the blade.
I let out a loud shriek, fear clouding my senses.
In a fluid motion, Kingsley counters, striking the man hard enough to jolt the weapon from his grip.It clatters to the ground, rendered useless.His fist connects with the man’s jaw, and I hear a distinct crack from where I stand.The man crumbles to the ground, knocked out cold.
Police sirens scream in the distance, steadily getting louder.My heart pounds wildly, still coursing with adrenaline, but it’s the kind that’s starting to mix with relief and awe.
Kingsley’s eyes dart around until they lock onto me, still tucked away in my hiding spot.His face, stern just moments before, softens in a way that makes my stomach flip.
He comes to me, his pace quick but measured, and when he reaches me, he wraps me in an embrace that feels like home, like safety.“Are you okay?”he asks, his voice heavy with emotion.He caresses my cheeks and continues, “I’m sorry I left you, but I had—”
“Kingsley, I’m fine.”I nod, cutting him off, struggling to put my swirling emotions into words.The feelings overwhelming me are too complex, too new, but they all point to one irrefutable truth.
I don’t just care about this man.
As we pull apart, the blaring sirens finally come to a stop, replaced by the chatter and footsteps of police officers securing the scene.Red and blue lights splash across the walls and pavement, signaling both crisis and control.The crowd begins to regather, their expressions transitioning from fear to relief and then to awe.
“There he is!The guy who took down the knifeman,” someone shouts, pointing in our direction.
“He’s a hero,” another voice chimes in.
Kingsley’s body tenses in the circle of my arms, uncomfortable under the weight of that word that evokes his past.
