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Doyle’s brown eyes flick back and forth. Then he spots me to his right, and immediately shifts so that Kayla is facing me. His hand remains on her shoulder and his gun at the back of her head as he uses her like a human shield.
I’m going to fucking bury this guy.
He moves slowly as he starts backing towards his Audi with his bodyguard next to him. I follow, keeping my guns trained on them.
Kayla watches me with an expression I can’t read.
My gaze slips down to her face for a second.
There is a bruise forming on her cheekbone.
Rage cracks into me like a lightning bolt, and my voice drops low and lethal as I ask, “Which one of them hit you?”
Since she can’t move her head, she uses her eyes to look pointedly to her left. Doyle’s bodyguard, who can’t see that she has already answered my question, just continues backing towards the car with his hands raised.
I shoot him in the head.
“Fuck!” Doyle blurts out, jerking to a stop and ducking farther behind Kayla.
The bodyguard collapses to the ground in a thudding of limbs. Blood runs down his forehead from the small hole there.
I shift both guns to Doyle. But he is still hidden behind Kayla, and I can’t risk him shooting her, so I let him start towards the car again. He is moving faster now, backing as quickly as he can without tripping on his own feet.
Kayla remains standing with her spine straight as he yanks open the driver’s side door.
Then he leaps inside, slams the door shut, and floors it.
The tires screech against the road as he speeds away.
I’m just about to shoot at his car when Kayla’s knees buckle.
Darting forward, I ram my guns back into the holsters across my chest and grab her.
Her body crashes into mine as she sways.
Then she wraps her arms around me. Tightly. A small sob escapes her lips as she buries her face in my shirt.
My heart almost breaks.
Holding her tightly, I feel her body shake slightly in my arms as she sucks in rapid breaths.
“I love you,” she gasps out. “I didn’t know if I would ever get the chance to tell you. But I love you.”
The air is knocked right out of my lungs. My heart forgets how to beat normally and just flutters around inside my ribcage instead.
Drawing in a shuddering breath, I tighten my arms around Kayla and hug her back fiercely. “I love you too, little demon. I love you so much that I can barely breathe.”
She lets out something between a sob and a small noise of happiness. Then a tremor racks her frame again. Aftershocks from the adrenaline that must have been coursing through her body like electricity ever since she first spotted that van.
All I want to do is to kiss her and tell her that I love her again and ask her if she’s okay, but I know that that’s not what she needs. Right now, she just needs a moment to process. To feel. To sort through her emotions. To let her brain come to the conclusion that she is here and she is safe and alive.
So I just stand there. And hold her.
It takes almost five minutes for her breathing to even out. And then once she is breathing normally again, she curls her fingers into the back of my shirt and grips the fabric tightly. As if she needs to feel that I’m here. I stroke a hand over her hair and down her back.
At last, she draws in a deep, shuddering breath and relaxes her grip on my shirt.
“You came,” she says, her cheek resting against my chest.
