Page 157 of Sin Like the Devil

The blonde reporter perks up, instructing her cameramen to begin recording. Bancroft’s smile morphs into a look of outrage. To add insult to injury, patients have started cheering the pair on, each body slam eliciting another excited roar.

“You seem to have a security issue,” the reporter comments.

Bancroft’s enraged gaze bounces over me, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the fracas. I’m running before I can hear whatever crap he’s going to spew next. Lennox is going to break Noah’s spine on national fucking television at this rate.

This was a mistake.

I’ve crossed a line.

I should turn around and disappear before I’m incriminated too, but I have to stop this before it’s too late. Throwing myself into the mix is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Yet the weight of that damned business card burns against my skin. There’s still a world out there, watching this unfold from the outside. A world that would be disgusted by me.

I’m disgusted by me.

“Get out of the way!” I barge past leering onlookers. “Move!”

Close enough to the fight, I can see that Noah’s limp but conscious, laying crumpled on the ground. He’s given a good defence—Lennox has a split eyebrow that’s spilling blood down his face, and his nose is gushing like a waterfall.

“Stop!” I shriek at Lennox.

He glowers over his shoulder at me. “You again. Come to watch the show?”

“Leave him alone, Nox. This was all a mistake.”

“Mistake?” Lennox swipes blood from his eyeline. “Did you set this up, huh? Is this some kind of game?”

“Just get away from him!”

“The son of a bitch started it.”

Launching myself at Lennox before he can resume pounding Noah into a pulp, I land on his back. My legs cinch around him as I squeeze his neck, attempting to throw him off balance.

He hisses a curse and easily tosses me into the air, causing me to slam to the ground. My bones creak in protest at the hard landing. Teeth gritted, I roll onto my knees and crawl my way back to them.

Lennox and Noah are grappling again, a sea of angry voices spurring them on. But it’s the fear in Noah’s eyes that hits me like a tonne of bricks. So I throw myself at Lennox again.

This time, he hits the ground from our collision. We twist and roll, sliding through a wet mudslide caused by the flooding. I get in a decent hit before he starts to choke me.

“You have ruined everything,” Lennox growls. “Taking my sanity wasn’t enough, was it? You had to take my family from me too.”

I buck up and down, attempting to throw him off. There’s a blur of movement before something crashes into him. Lennox is torn from my body, now tangled up in Noah’s long limbs.

Noah’s caught him off guard and regained the upper hand. The pair resume beating each other to death as I try to gain enough purchase to intervene.

“Break it up!” Elon’s voice booms.

Several guards swarm all at once. Two are holding the reporter and her cameras far back, the combined brawn of Bancroft’s remaining men circling the three of us.

When Elon raises his baton, I quickly lift my hands in surrender. He spins around, turning his attention to the two brawling men.

“Enough! Stop!” he bellows.

Noah doesn’t seem to get the message. He makes it on top of Lennox, slamming a bloody fist into his jaw. Two guards have to seize his arms to drag him off, but he keeps struggling.

When he manages to punch one of them, a black taser is pulled free.

“Stop!” I shout frantically.

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