Page 128 of Diamond In The Rough

I spin at Felix’s bitten words. At the temper I know he keeps under tight rein. Then I follow his gaze to the club doors downstairs, almost dropping to my ass when a trio of Feds walk through, flying duck formation.

Tiia fucking Hale leading her pack.

My heart squeezes, pain shooting through my veins and down to my stomach until I almost—almost—press a hand to the pain. But I’ve been a part of this world too long to give away such weakness. I’ve been watched and targeted too deeply to be so stupid.

“Leave.” Felix comes up on my right, his shoulder touching mine as we watch over the club from our perch high above. He peels his eyes from the side of Tiia’s face and brings them up to stare at me. “You can go. I’ll keep an eye on them till they’re done.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ll make sure they’re untouched,” he rumbles. “I’ll forgive them for walking in here in the first fucking place, and I’ll put her in a car and make sure she gets home safe.”

Tiia’s eyes scour the club. Her stare penetrating and mean. She wears shorts again, frayed cuffs providing a light contrast to her tanned skin. Her tank, too short, too tempting as the gap in fabric shows off her stomach and leaves my mouth watering.

My cock stirring.

I can push her away, and I can act like I hate her. I can know she deserves better than this world, and I can even follow through and ensure she stays gone.

But none of that excludes me from wanting her.

Needing her.

Begging for her, though I keep the words locked up in my mind and unheard by everyone but me.

“Micah?”

“I’ll deal with it.” I lock down my expression when Tiia’s eyes finally find mine on the second level. Her dark eyes widening and then narrowing. Her pulse hammers in her throat because she’s found me. Because she wants me, even when she knows it’s bad. I drop my gaze and study her supple body. The planes and dips I got to memorize, if only for a short time. Her long legs and curved hips. Her strong thighs, and fuck, but her sweet pussy.

She’s a buffet to my senses. A treat to look at. To taste. To smell. Her words are both entertaining and a challenge. And her attitude, something fun to play with.

I miss her more than I miss my stolen finger. More than I miss my brothers who moved across the country. I miss her more than I’d miss my own life if tonight was to be my last.

But then I drag my eyes up and stop on the necklace she wears, the emerald pendant she has nestled against her chest.

In an instant, my lungs empty and my legs turn weak.

She’s come here tonight, knowing she’d find me. Knowing I’m not likely to be a safe space to visit. And she chose to wear my heart right there around her throat.

“Micah—”

“I’m dealing with it.” I shove away from the banister and drop my hands into my pockets. I wear my anger the way another might a coat, a necessity, because if I forget I’m furious, I might obsess over the fact that I’m dead inside when she’s not mine.

I play with the knife in my pocket, tracing the engraved hilt and running the tips of my fingers over the switch that would free the blade from its cavity.

The noise grows louder as I head downstairs, the partiers shouting to talk to each other. To sing and dance. The din becomes damn near deafening, so I wonder how the hell she would understand me even if I tried to talk to her.

I feel Felix’s warmth at my back as I step off the last stair and onto the wooden flooring at the bottom, sticky with spilled drinks, but not slick beneath my feet. Then I feel the added heat as Stovic and Michaels follow. Because if Felix is coming to the ground floor, then the whole fucking army is following.

“You need to calm down,” Felix warns. “You might appear slightly threatening right now, what with the murder in your eyes and shit.”

“Hush.” I make a beeline for the trio who turn and watch my approach. As their formation changes, and Roscoe tries—but fails—to become Tiia’s guard. He steps in front of her, but she shifts again and makes herself their shield.

She’s not afraid, though she should be.

“You need to leave my club.” I come to a stop just two feet in front of the woman whose perfume slams to the base of my lungs and spreads throughout my body. I’m surrounded by people. By colognes and perfumes and flowery body sprays. Alcohol spills and men drag nicotine in after they’ve snuck away for a quick smoke. All of those smells compete for dominance. But it’s Tiia’s my entire soul focuses on.

Her shampoo. Her lip gloss. Her long, long lashes, and the fire in her eyes.

“Get the fuck out.”

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