Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
He’s the master at ruffling his opponent’s feathers and always gets out of it unscathed. Except with Marcus. Now, that bastard is definitely diagnosed.
One thing I’ve learned is that being weak or lying down and taking it—or worse, avoiding conflict—feeds their sadistic energy.
And I’m also in the mood to pick a fight.
So I grin. “Aren’t you the drag? You know, because your uselessness caused the Vipers to lose for the first time this season.”
His smile remains the same, but the glint slowly dims. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. Everyone watched as Marcus wrapped you around his pinkie finger and dragged you through the rink like deadweight.” I match his smile. “As I said, useless.”
I realize I’ve overdone it when it’s too late.
Preston reaches an open hand out and wraps it entirely around my face, his fingers digging into my skull as if he’ll break it.
Fear locks my limbs and I don’t dare breathe.
“You need to learn how to shut the fuck up.” His voice is creepily cold, completely different from his usual devil-may-care attitude. “You and that dirtbag Osborn are nothing more than bugs. You might buzz a little, might even sting and be a general nuisance, but make no mistake, I can squash you whenever I wish. I will end your miserable, annoying lives as I see fit.”
Pressure grows in my head and I think he’ll make good on his promise.
He’ll kill me.
I feel it in my bones—he’ll snap my neck and walk away as if nothing happened.
Then he’ll get away with it because he was born into the right family and I’m a nobody.
His hand disappears.
My lips part and I blink away the moisture that’s gathered in my eyes as Kane appears in front of me.
He’s tall. Taller than usual. As he partially obstructs my view, I only see his back, broad and wide, blocking Preston’s face.
And for the first time, I don’t loathe the view of his back.
“Walk away,” he says calmly.
“I was in the middle of something, Davenport. How about you walk away?”
I sink my fingers into the side of Kane’s hoodie. I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I was so sure Preston was going to kill me.
It’s bloodlust, I realize. I felt the red haze in his touch and each of his words.
That’s a man who’s probably killed before and would do it again in a heartbeat.
“That something is over,” Kane says without paying attention to my hand. “Go.”
“I don’t take orders from you. Step away.”
My hand trembles. What if Kane lets him do whatever he wants to teach me a lesson?
What the hell did I get myself into?
“Touch her again, and you lose that hand, Armstrong.”
Loud laughter spills from Preston. “Is that a threat?”
“A warning. Dahlia is mine and I made it clear that I don’t like others touching what’s mine.”
There’s a long, unbearable silence before Preston slams his shoulder against Kane’s. Hard. Then he walks off.
I don’t look at him, focusing on my trembling, chopped-off breaths.
What the hell is this feeling? A shot of adrenaline? The sensation of narrowly escaping death?
“Are you going to hold on to me forever?”
I release his hoodie and wince at the wrinkled mess I leave behind. “Sorry.”
Kane faces me, his expression closed off, his eyes dark. “Is that all you have to say?”
“Thanks.”
“Instead of thanking me, learn how to read the room and pick your fucking battles.” His tone is biting, his angry words cutting into me like knives.
I’ve never seen Kane this enraged. Hell, I didn’t think he was capable of this type of rage.
And the part that twists my stomach? It’s the feeling that he’s mad for me.
For my safety.
I swallow. “I…didn’t know.”
“But you must’ve felt it.” He releases a long sigh. “Stay the fuck away from Preston and Jude. You don’t have the slightest clue about what they’re capable of.”
“What about you?” I whisper. “I don’t know what you’re capable of either.”
He strokes my cheek, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s too late to stay away from me. You should’ve taken the chance when I first offered it.”
23
DAHLIA
Ihaven’t gone to Kane’s place for three days.
That doesn’t stop me from visiting his mom. She texted and invited me over for afternoon tea, and I couldn’t say no.
I’ve been let into the extravagant mansion by a member of staff who merely bowed at me and told me to follow him.
My hand tightens around the flowers I bought on my way here.
The Davenport mansion rivals the Armstrongs’ in grandiosity and sheer opulence. They’re both huge, shining, and smell of old money.
They both reek of death as well.
My chest has been tight since the moment I walked in.
The butler’s steps echo on the checkered marble floor, a soft but steady rhythm that cuts through the dooming silence. He moves with precision, his posture straight and his bald scalp catching the dim light as we pass towering walls of dark wood and art whose creatures feel like they’ll pop out and devour me.