21. Linc
When the man standing over Kennedy doesn’t budge, I almost lose my shit. “I said to get the fuck away from her, Royal.”
He looks up, completely oblivious to the fact that not only is he going to get his ass beat, but that every single person currently standing in Lucy’s will stand by and watch it happen. When our eyes lock, the man has the audacity to smile at me like we are friends and he is waiting for me. He genuinely thinks I’ll keep from making a scene, and I almost laugh at his audacity.
We’re standing in a bar that is owned by a first responder, serves first responders, and half the staff are related to first responders or were first responders. There are a lot of fuckin’ cops in the bar and restaurant. There are even a few paramedics that I can see out of the corner of my eye. And while I like my odds of surviving an encounter with the asshole across the room, I don’t like the idea of anyone around me suffering because of him.
“He’s going to die.” Remy’s voice takes on a lethal tone when he sees the smile Royal still wears, but he doesn’t move in that direction. Not yet. “I don’t think he realizes that he’s about to die in a room full of cops.” For everything he says, Remy seems to be keeping his calm for the most part.
Meanwhile, my heart races and my eyes narrow until the only thing I can concentrate on is Kennedy on the floor. I keep flashing back to the blood on Mallory’s face and the bruises that started to form almost immediately. I stand there and all I can think of is the fact that Kennedy was hurt by him once before, and now I’m not stopping it from happening again.
One quiet whimper escapes her lips, and it shoots straight through my heart. She destroys me, without even trying. When she looks up, her eyes locking on mine, the noise around us vanishes.
Everyone vanishes.
I don’t see Remy. Or Parker. Or anyone else in the building. I see Kennedy, on her fucking knees, at the feet of the man responsible for her pain. The one who beat the hell out of Mallory, even if I can’t prove it. The man responsible for the tears I could see from all the way across the restaurant.
Everything explodes. Everything. Every bit of anger and rage and everything I want to say and do just come rushing out all at once. I’m there, next to Remy, watching it happen in one moment, and in the next, I have Royal by the collar of his shirt and shove him away from Kennedy. I don’t even know how I got there or if I pushed Kennedy out of the way. I’m not even thinking when I practically lift him off his feet. Dragging him along with me isn’t difficult at all. In fact, he doesn’t weigh more than a feather as far as I’m concerned. His complaints and outrage don’t faze me in the slightest.
As his skin turns red with embarrassment, I feel rather than know that I laugh, and then I take it a step further and haul him through the doors that lead to the kitchen, completely ignoring all reason at that point.
Royal must have noticed, because he grunts and seems to slump in my hold until we make it into the kitchen. “She’s just a stupid whore. She doesn’t mean anything.”
Those words seal his fate, and the flash in his eyes gives his plan away. He wants me to hit him. He wants me to hurt him. He wants me to do something that will take Kennedy out of my arms for good. The bitter smile that breaks out over his face betrays every single plan that he has for me. The ruin he expects to rain down on my head.
Like a bucket of ice water has just been dumped on my head, I drop him to the ground and crouch next to his scrambling form.
“Not so fast.” I grab his arm, squeezing painfully, more than aware we are being watched. But I don’t take my focus off him. “I’m not a cop right now, Royal. No uniform.” I wave a hand over my chest. “No gun.” I nod toward my hip. “No badge.”
His eyes dart over my body, like he is trying to confirm what I said.
“Now, maybe you should tell me what the fuck you were doing standing over my woman like you were ready to hit her again.”
When I call Kennedy mine, his eyes flash with malicious intent. For the first time since I grabbed him, Royal looks like he wants to fight. Like he wants to put his fist through my face, but he doesn’t move. I can see the twitch in his cheek and the vein pop out in his forehead, but he doesn’t make a move. It is a shame, honestly, because if he throws the first punch, I won’t be breaking any laws by shattering his jaw.
Instead, I spear him with contempt. “I know what you did.”
Royal swallows audibly, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what Kennedy saw in him in the first place. With his hair, covered in more product than a man should wear, plastered to the side of his sweat-dotted forehead, his pallid skin, and the shifty way his eyes keep darting around like he is looking for an escape, Royal is a weasel. Not only that, but he can’t even stand up for himself.
“You hurt her. You hurt them both. And Kennedy might not have reported it at the time, but don’t for a fuckin’ second think she did that to protect you. Or that she loved you. She never did, Royal.” I lower my voice and drag him so that our noses are practically touching while I snarl in his face.
Royal, the sniveling coward that he has proven himself to be, flinches away like he’ll be able to escape. But I don’t let him go.
“She was mine first.” He uselessly tries again to pull his arm away from me. “She was in the wrong, and she knew it. She’s nothing without me.”
I tighten my grip, making him whimper, but he doesn’t say anything else.
“You were nothing more than a way for her to try to get over me.” I force back down the bile that tries to launch itself into my throat.
“The only people she was trying to protect by not reporting you were her family. Her brother, who wouldn’t hesitate to drag you out behind his house and beat the shit out of you, regardless of the fact that he’s a cop.”
Royal tries to pull away again, and for a second I think about how ridiculous we must look, with him sitting on his ass in a suit that costs more than some people’s rent and me crouched down and holding him by the arm like a child. But I dismiss it just as quickly.
“Not only that,” I go on. “Her father, the chief of police, who would join him and make sure there was nothing left of you… even if it cost him his job.”
Royal pales slightly, and I don’t blame him. Alex Townsend was terrifying before he became the chief of police. After? He is a powerhouse I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of.
“She wasn’t just protecting them, either. She was also protecting the other cops and deputies. You know, the men and women who make up her extended family. Every single one of them wouldn’t even try to cover up anything they did as payback for you hurting one of their own. For you hurting her.”
Royal looks like he is going to be sick, and I almost laugh.
“Kennedy wanted to protect them, not you. She wanted to keep any or all of them from doing something stupid. She doesn’t think you’re worth it. If you knew Kennedy at all or knew anything about how she feels about her family or friends, you would know that she wouldn’t want them to lose their jobs or their lives because of you.”
With every word I speak, Royal retreats into himself more and more, until it is clear that he isn’t a man. He is a boy, a spoiled little shit who thinks hitting women makes him powerful.
“And none of that even compares in the slightest when it comes to the real threat. The last person Kennedy was trying to protect by not reporting your pathetic ass. Me. The man who won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your skull because of what you’ve done. If you go near her again, Royal. If you try to hurt her. If you so much as breathe her fuckin’ name. I will kill you. I won’t hesitate. I won’t regret it. And I won’t miss a single wink of sleep at night after I pull the trigger. Do you understand me?”
“You’ll lose everything.” He stares at me with wild eyes, like he will be able to convince me to give her up. “I’ll destroy you and take everything that matters to you.”
At that, I let him see my smile. The one I’ve worn into battle. The one that stays on my face with every enemy combatant overseas. The one that shows exactly who Royal Prince is dealing with.
“That’s your problem, Royal.” I watch as fear flashes over his face and then morphs into rage and something else I can’t quite place. “You never understood the fact that Kennedy is everything. I don’t have a life without her. And I sure as fuck won’t care about putting you in the ground if it means I’ll be able to keep her safe.”
“She’s a liar,” he bites out harshly. I can’t figure out if he is trying to convince me or himself. “Anything she said was a lie, and you can’t prove that I did anything to her. Especially when she had my ring on her finger. She was mine, Lincoln. Mine.” He looks down at my arm. “They both were. I recommend you let go of me before I press charges and take away your precious little life.” His voice trembles, and I think about beating the fuck out of him right there, but I really want to have Kennedy in my arms, and I don’t think that will happen if I’m arrested for attempted murder.
“Wow,” I say with a laugh. “All of a sudden you found your courage, did you?” Shaking my head at his ridiculous attempt to intimidate me is pretty much my only option at this point. “Remember what I said, Royal. If you come near her, I’ll end you. I don’t care what it costs me. I’m not afraid of anything that happens to me as a result of making sure you pay for going near her. I give zero shits about anything in my life if she’s hurt.”
With that, I let him go even though I don’t want to, and I have the distinct pleasure of watching as Royal crab-walks backward to get away from me. It’s not like he can get up with me towering over him, but I hadn’t expected him to act like such a pussy. He doesn’t take his eyes off me until he is at the back door marked with a giant red sign.
By forcing Royal to face the truth, I also force myself to face the ugly truth of my part in her pain as well. I was the one who sent her into Royal’s arms. If I’d just told her from the beginning. If I’d let her in, he wouldn’t have been able to touch her. To hurt her.
I turn around, somehow not surprised in the least when I see Kennedy standing there.
“I love you, Kennedy,” I tell her honestly. “I always have. But you know that. You’ve always known that. I’m sorry I fucked it up so badly.”
When she throws herself into my arms, I do the smart thing. I catch her and swear to myself that I’ll never let her go again.