Chapter 24
KINSLEY
Ismell Zander’s cologne before he speaks, the hair on my arms standing on end as I spin around, nearly stumbling as I try to put some distance between us.
“Nowhere to run, Miss Dane.”
“Zander, what the hell is this?”
He snorts, the sound devoid of humor as he stares at me, his size practically taking up the entire hallway. The exit is behind me but I don’t know where it leads or if it’s a dead end. I swallow down the panic and do everything in my power to keep my expression neutral.
This can’t be happening.
Nessa is going to kill me…if Zander doesn’t do it first.
“How did you even know I was here?”
“Can’t take a chance that you’ll get away, can I? Especially after that little trip to Blackstone Falls.” He takes a step closer. “I was so worried.”
“Why are you doing this? You’ve been with me for three years.” This time I can’t hide the way my voice shakes, fear replacing the shock as he takes another step closer.
“Because for three years I’ve watched you whore yourself around, crying about how unfair the world is to you, but you do it to yourself, don’t you, Miss Dane?
Chasing after all these losers and then,”—he laughs and it sends a chill down my spine—“just when I think you’re finally noticing what we could be, you go and start fucking around with that punk down the hall. ”
“Leave him out of this.”
“Stop pretending you care; he’s just another guy you’re stringing along.” His eyes drop to the phone still clutched in my hand. “And that stops now.”
He lunges and I scream, turning to run as his fist grips my hair, the other clamping over my mouth.
But the fight isn’t over.
It’s on.
I bite down as hard as I can, until I taste blood and Zander is cursing and I’m able to suck in a breath.
“Stupid bitch,” he growls, his hand still fisted in my hair making contact with the back of my head, causing pain to radiate out from the impact as I stumble forward and out of his grasp. I blink hard, willing back the darkness creeping into my vision.
Don’t pass out.
Do. Not. Pass. Out.
“Why are you doing this?” I wheeze as I try desperately to keep the panic at bay.
But he just chuckles, the sound cold and ugly and nothing like the man I thought I knew. His footsteps are heavy behind me, and I don’t have much of a lead but I have to make a run for it—give myself a chance.
My stilettos are unsteady on the floor but I can’t worry about that now, willing my legs to carry me like a fast break up the soccer field.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he seethes, his big hand reaching for me as I try to duck out of the way.
I can’t hear the sound of my dress ripping over the blood roaring in my ears, but I feel it, the strap ripped from my body as his fingertips dig into my arm.
The momentum pulls me back, and this time I don’t fight it, using those couple of seconds to wind up and deliver a palm heel strike to his ribs.
It doesn’t do much damage, but it’s enough to surprise him, allowing me to do it again before kicking and scratching and elbowing him with enough force he grabs his side.
He’s furious, and I wish I’d taken more kickboxing classes with Nessa because this time when he lunges for me, I have nowhere to go.
ROYCE
“I need someone there now!” I bark into the phone as I race down the stairs of our building. My uncle’s voice is calm, soothing, and completely lacking hysteria as I continue to the garage and the car I never drive.
“I have someone en route.”
“If she—”
“No.” The single word is hard.
Final.
“But—”
“No. You have your side, and I have mine and I don’t lose, Royce. Ever.”
The engine roars to life as I peel out of the parking lot, the Bluetooth picking up as I merge into traffic and gun it toward Smoke.
Please be okay, please be okay.
“Three minutes.”
“Can’t they go any faster?”
“Your girl is tough; she’s got more than three minutes in her.” He pauses. “Breathe, Royce. You’re no good to her if you need oxygen when you get there.”
I want to laugh, but the adrenaline is already making me vibrate, and if I start, I have a feeling I won’t be able to stop.
“I’ll be fine.”
“There’s an alley off the east side of the building in the back that leads to the back door. Tell the unit there who you are and call me later. And Royce?”
“Yeah?” I say as I slam the car in park and toss my keys to the valet. He yells something I don’t hear and honestly it doesn’t matter. The car doesn’t matter—nothing else matters but her.
“I’m proud of you, kid. Now go get your girl.”