Playing with Fire: A Standalone Dark Romance

Chapter Forty-six

My eyes haven’t moved from the door since she left. I’m waiting for her to return.

I’ll give her five minutes exactly, when that’s up, I’m going for her.

She’s scared.

I see it all over her, but I won’t let anything hurt her, won’t let anything come for her.

When the five minutes are up, my legs are eating up the distance between us. I ignore everyone as I stride through the hotel, heading for the doors in the foyer but it’s snowing out and when I look, she’s nowhere to be found on the sidewalk.

Heading back inside, I glance around the few faces lingering but they pay me no attention.

And then I hear it.

A scream, filled with so much terror it chills the blood in my veins. It’s muffled and barely audible and it doesn’t appear anyone else heard the sound, but I did. I know I did.

I’m moving before I even register it, shoving open the staff door.

And there she is.

But she isn’t alone.

She’s being pinned to the wall, an arm across her chest, a hand gripping her face. She’s lax in his grip, there’s blood on her lip, a smear of it on the wall.

Rage unlike I’ve ever felt before consumes me. It makes my blood boil, my heart pound as red overcomes my vision.

“Get your fucking hands off my wife!” I roar and begin to thunder toward them. One man runs in the opposite direction immediately, whereas the one holding my wife drops her and begins to move too.

But I’m already there, grabbing him by the neck to slam his head into the wall. He goes down, dazed as I reach into my suit pocket and grab the knuckle dusters I always carry. I could beat him with my fists, but these hurt worse, these guarantee agony. It’s the only thought in my head, the only thing keeping me moving is ensuring he suffers for what he has just done.

They’re on my hand in the next breath, and my fist is rearing back on the next, the cold black metal slamming into his face with a satisfying crack.

I hit him again, and again, blood coating the metal and my hand, splattering up and onto my face. It takes no time at all to leave him a fleshy, bloody mess, face split open as blood pools beneath him, a couple teeth scattered in front of his face. I can see bone and muscle, his skin torn and mangled.

“That’s my wife!” I growl but the guy is dead.

Behind me I hear footsteps and I rear up, ready to take on the new threat but it’s Sebastian, his eyes wide with shock as he moves them between me, the guy and Olivia who is laying on the ground, eyes closed.

Shit.

I drop the guy and move to her immediately, the rage pulsing like a living breathing thing inside of me. The dusters fall with a clang to the floor as I drop to my knees next to her.

“There’s another one,” I growl to Sebastian, pulling Olivia into my arms. She’s limp, her arms falling heavily at her sides as a thin trickle of blood runs down her chin. “Escaped through the office.” I tell him, eyes moving away from Olivia just for a second to make sure he understands this is not a request but an order, “Find him. I want him in the cells by the end of the night.”

Sebastian jerks his head in a nod, and pulls out his phone as he moves past us, following my orders.

“Olivia, baby,” I move her hair away from her face, my thumb swiping over the blood on her chin and then notice the blooming bruise on her cheek, darkening her pale skin. “Wake up, kitten.”

I smooth a hand down the back of her head only to find it wet and warm. My palm comes away stained red.

“No,” Panic consumes me, my heart slamming against my rib cage. She’s breathing, her chest rises and falls steadily and it’s the only thing that keeps me centered.

Sliding my arm beneath her knees, my other under her torso, I lift her carefully, making sure to cradle her head against my shoulder. There’s enough blood leaking from her skull that I feel it soaking through my shirt.

Carrying her in my arms, I kick the door open at the end, leaving the body of her attacker behind. The guys will handle it.

I ignore the gasps of horror as I break out into a jog in the foyer, keeping it steady so I don’t jolt her. I don’t feel the cold as I make it outside. The hospital is a block from here, there are no cabs or cars around for me to use.

So, I run.

I hold her tight as I sprint down the sidewalk, the snow crunching under my feet. I ignore the burn in my lungs, the scream in my muscles as I push myself to go as fast as I can, curling myself around her to shield her the best I can from the elements.

It’s when I can see the hospital ahead of me, the lights shining against the snow on the ground, when Olivia stirs in my arms.

“Almost there, kitten,” I rasp to her.

I storm into the ER, drawing everyone’s attention, “Help her!” I roar.

Nurses rush toward me, a bed is pushed in front of me, which I lay Olivia on. She’s still dazed but she’s groaning, almost fully awake, lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks.

“What’s her name? What happened?” All the questions blur into one, everyone’s voices sounding the same.

“Olivia Farrow.” I answer, “She was attacked.”

“Who are you?”

“She’s my wife.”

They start to take her away from me, toward a set of blue double doors. “Sir you can’t come.” A nurse stops me from following but quickly removes herself from my path when I glare down at her.

“You will not keep me from her,” I warn, slamming through the doors after Olivia.

“Sir, I will call security!” The nurse yells, “You can’t go back there!”

“Fucking watch me!”

“Sir!”

Sudden arms are yanking me back, tackling me back toward the waiting area.

“Get your hands off me!” I growl.

“Sir! Mr. Farrow!”

There are three guys holding me back and I glare down at the nurse who ordered them to stop me. I memorize her face, the steel in her eyes.

“You cannot go back there. There is nothing you can do,” She tells me sternly, “You will have to wait in here.”

“That’s my wife!” I growl, trying to get free. I’ll fucking kill them all.

“I understand,” She softens a little, “When there is news, we will come get you.”

“No, she needs me!”

“Sir,” She sighs, stepping back a little when I snatch away from one of the arms holding me. “You need to calm down. You have blood on you, are you also injured?”

“It’s not mine,” I growl.

A flicker of fear joins the steel in her eyes. That’s right, be fucking afraid of me.

“Sit down, Mr. Farrow.” She hides that fear quickly, “I will come get you when there is news. Is there any medical history we should know about? Allergies to any medicines?”

“Let me back there!”

“I will have you removed if you do not calm down.”

Fuck.

I have no fucking control here.

I stop fighting the arms, “Please.” I beg.

“She’s in good hands,” The nurse sighs, “Please just take a seat.”

“You’ll get me?”

“Immediately,” She assures me.

“Fine.” Forcing myself to relax, the arms hesitate for a few more seconds before they release me, and though I itch to find her, protect her, I resist. The whole waiting room is watching with wide eyes, but no one says shit as I take a seat closest to those doors Olivia just disappeared through.

Elbows on my knees, I lean forward and drop my head, staring at the blood on my hands. Hers. His.

I wanted to go find his fucking body and mangle it some more. They hurt her. They hurt my wife.

Someone is going to fucking pay for this. Painfully.

I reach into my pocket for my cell, dialing Sebastian.

“News.” I demand when he answers.

“The event has been shut down. Everyone is leaving now. The body is being cleaned and Killian has the second guy and is taking him back to the cells. He’s a little bloody.”

“Keep him alive,” I order quietly, “I have questions.”

“Already told them,” Bast assures, “What the fuck happened, Kai?

“I don’t know.” I admit, “She went out for air, didn’t want me to come with her. I found them like that.”

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” I feel my voice shake, “She was bleeding.”

“You at the hospital?”

“Yeah.”

“See you in five.” Bast hangs up so I drop the cell from my ear, gripping the device in my hand.

Sebastian shows up four minutes later, Willow, Dean and Savannah in tow.

“Killian will be here when he has–” Sebastian cuts himself off knowing he can’t say shit with the girls there. Savannah knows some but not all, and as far as I am aware, Willow is oblivious to our business.

I nod, understanding.

“Where is she?” Willow demands, her voice shaking.

“They’re working on her,” I tell them.

“What’s wrong with her?” She asks.

I shake my head because I don’t know. I don’t know the extent of her injuries or what they had managed to do before I got there.

A hand lands on my shoulder when the same nurse from before comes back through the doors, “Mr. Farrow. She’s awake.”

I shove away from the chair, “Can I see her?”

“Only one of you,” she eyes the group, “This is an ER not a damn café.”

“Where is she?” I demand.

“Follow me, please.”

I say nothing to the rest of them as I follow the nurse down a long, sterile corridor. She stops at a door to a private room but doesn’t let me inside.

“She’s okay. A little bruised, she has a concussion and a small wound on the back of her head. It’s been glued shut, no stitches. She’ll be kept in until tomorrow because of the concussion.”

“Let me inside,” I demand, “Let me see my wife.”