Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Using the same motions Rip had taught me in all those self-defense classes, I twisted free of his grip. The movement surprised Eric enough that he jerked back. I used the momentum to reach for his coffee cup and knocked it directly into his lap. Hot liquid splashed across the table and onto his expensive gray pants. He jumped up with a curse.
“There’s a restraining order on you, Eric,” I announced, my voice clear and steady. “You’re not supposed to be near me.”
The surrounding tables went quiet. Heads turned our way. A woman at the next table pulled out her phone and aimed it at us. Then another person did the same. Within seconds, at least five phones recorded everything happening at our table. Eric’s eyes darted around, taking in the witnesses, the phones, the evidence being created in real time. His face flushed dark red as he brushed ineffectually at his coffee-stained pants.
“You’re making a scene over nothing,” he said, attempting to regain his composure. His voice had shifted to the smooth, reasonable tone he used when trying to convince others I was unstable. “Jade isn’t well. She’s been having episodes --”
“The restraining order says you need to stay five hundred feet away from me at all times,” I cut him off. “It’s very specific.” I looked around the patio. “His name is Eric Blackwood. My name is Jade Harper. The restraining order is a matter of public record.”
“These people don’t understand our history,” he said, lowering his voice, trying to make it intimate again. “We can talk about this privately --”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I stood carefully, needing to be on my feet. “And you’re the one who brought this public. I was content to fade into the background if you’d just left me alone. I don’t want anything from you, Eric. I don’t even wish you ill. I just want you to leave me and Mia alone.”
The woman recording nearest to us spoke up. “Do you need help? Should I call the police?”
Eric’s mask slipped completely. Rage twisted his features into something ugly and unfamiliar. For three years, I’d lived in terror of that expression. Now I just saw a pathetic little man trying to compensate for all his failures with complete control over his surroundings. “You think this changes anything?” He stepped back, bumping into a chair. “You think anyone actually cares about you?”
Rip had reached the edge of the patio now, Inferno right behind him. Eric saw them, and his eyes widened in surprise. He knew he was cornered by multiple predators.
He turned to leave but swung his arm out in a wide, violent arc, knocking over an elaborate vase of flowers. The heavy ceramic smashed onto the wooden table. Glass shards from the piece fragmented, exploding outward in all directions. Several patrons cried out in surprise as everyone cleared the immediate area around us.
Something sharp sliced across the back of my hand. I looked down to see blood welling up in a thin line across my skin, dripping onto the concrete below. Oddly, I felt no pain. Just a distant awareness that I should probably be applying pressure.
Eric stalked away, shoulders hunched, his practiced, condescending image completely shattered. People kept recording as he crossed the street and disappeared around the corner. I remained standing, ignoring the blood now trickling down my fingers. A strange, almost peaceful clarity filled me. For the first time since I’d escaped him, I’d faced Eric on my terms. And I’d won.
Rip reached me in three long strides, his gaze taking in everything, scanning me from head to toe before focusing on my bleeding hand. “Jesus, Jade.” He grabbed a clean napkin from the table and pressed it against the cut. “How bad is it?”
“Not bad,” I said, though truthfully, I couldn’t feel much of anything yet. The adrenaline coursing through me had numbed everything except a strange, detached sense of triumph.
Inferno moved to stand on my other side, his body positioned to block anyone who might approach. “You OK?” he asked gruffly.
I nodded. “I am.” Though I knew I’d probably crash soon and probably be terrified all over again, I truly believed I really would be all right.
“Knight’s on his way,” he said to Rip. “Already called Ethan too. We’ve got at least a dozen witnesses and videos. Bastard’s going to jail this time.”
Rip kept pressure on my hand, his touch gentle despite the tension radiating from his body. “We need to get this looked at,” he said, carefully lifting the napkin to examine the cut. “Might need stitches and will definitely need some antibiotics or cream or maybe a fucking kiss better. Whatever it needs, you will get.” He sounded almost frantic but so determined I wanted to cry happy tears. I probably looked like a crazy person, kind of felt like a crazy person, but I had never felt so at peace with a decision in my life.