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Then he takes a step back and walks off, heading to the car without another word.
A sound similar to a cry comes from my throat, but I swallow it back down before it can break free. How dare he blame something likekilling someoneon me?
Is he for real?
“Come on, Cara. Don’t fucking pay him any attention right now.” Rose says.
Easton comes up behind her with an angry scowl on his face. “You okay?” He says with concern, although his face looks like he’s next in line to kill someone.
“I’m okay.”
He runs his eyes over me and then Rose.
“Come on.” He says, walking ahead of us towards the car.
Once I get to the car, I turn around and see the man on the ground gone and Aziel standing near the blood-stained grass. He stares at me, and I lift my hand in a wave. He does so back, letting his hand linger in the air.
Will this be the last time I ever see Aziel? I don’t know. I’m betting this will be the last time I’m at this clubhouse, that’s for sure.
I tear my eyes from Aziel and hop in the car. Easton turns in on and leaves the clubhouse. It’s awkward and silent on the ride back. No one wants to speak about what just happened. I think we all know it’ll just lead to fighting. I, for one, am exhausted of the back and forth.
Once we get to the hotel, the sun has already set over the ocean and we’re left in darkness. Easton and Rose hop out of the front seats. I unbuckle my seatbelt and go to open the door when Jackson’s hand clamps over my wrist.
Too exhausted to pull out of his hold, I just stare at him.
I see Rose out of the corner of my eye, giving me a questioning look. I wave her off.
I’m sure we’ll be a while.
Easton grabs hold of Rose’s hand and they walk to our room.
Looking back at Jackson, I see him still staring at me.
Thinking about the last thing he said to me, I finally pull my hand out of his. “His blood is on my hands, are you serious?”
He laughs. “I told you to change your slutty outfit. Look where it got you. You got ass-grabbed by an old fuck and I had to kill him for touching what’s mine.”
“What’syours?”
“Yes. What I fucking said.What’s mine.”
I’m so fucking pissed. “What’syours?” I repeat. “How the fuck do you get off calling me yours after you just insulted me and told me some guy who tried to cop a feel, his blood is on my hands?” I scoff. “What a joke.”
“Are you all right?” He changes tune quick, unclicking his seatbelt and sliding over to my side of the backseat. “He didn’t hurt you or anything?”
“No, he didn’t.” Just scared me. He made me mad, but he also scared the hell out of me. That guy was huge.
He grabs onto my chin and turns me to face him. “I’m sorry for getting blood on you. I saw him grab your ass and I just… I justsnapped.” He shakes his head.
“So, you’re sorry for getting blood on me, but you’re not sorry for killing the guy?”
He furrows his eyebrow. “Why would I be sorry for killing him?” His tone comes across like he’s utterly clueless. Like killing him was the obvious answer.
“I…I don’t know what to say.” I look out the window. “I’m glad you want to protect me, but you can’t go around and do the killing anyone, anytime, anywhere type of shit.”
“Actually, I can. And I will. You didn’t see the look on your face when that guy touched you. The repulsion on your face was enough for me to kill him. But to know that he did it, without your consent, and he was touching something that didn’t belong to him? Yeah, I’ll kill him time and time again, baby.”
I stare at him, the sureness painted in his eyes, the protectiveness he has over me. The jealousy that hides behind those green eyes. The blood on his gray shirt. His short brown hair that’s grown out just enough for me to run my fingers through.
