Page 82 of Love Sick

I take a moment to study the lines of his face, tapping my finger against my leg. “You look…happy.”

His eyes open. “Yeah, I—”

A fraught feminine voice from around the corner cuts him off. “Wait. No.”

My ears home in on that voice. Those words. Grace’s voice. Grace’sdissent. My body tightens.

Asher glances toward the corner of the house, then at me. “Was that—”

“Come on, Grace.” Whose voice is that?

Her slurred voice thins. “I’m sorry. Will you stop, please?”

“Oh come on. I’ve seen the way you look at me. I’ve heard what you like.”

Asher and I stand, making our way toward the stairs that lead to the side of the house.

Grace’s voice becomes strained. “What? I’m so sorry. I don’t want—no. Trevor, stop. I—”

Her words are smothered, and my entire life distills to two primitive desires—kill him and save her.

The cold air barely touches me as I fly around the corner, finding her pinned to the wooden fence by his body. His hands are splayed over her waist. She turns her head away as he tries to kiss her.

My hands grip his arms before I register my own intrusion. I rip him away and she stumbles to the side, tripping over her purple cloak. Asher catches her.

“Get off me!” Trevor yells and takes a swing at me, but he’s drunk. Dodging is as easy as a quick duck beneath his uncoordinated fist.

I assume he’ll stop then, but he doesn’t, and I’m forced to react. Pain explodes in my knuckles when my fist connects with his jaw. He hits the ground, cursing my name.

“What the fuck, Santini?” Trevor presses a hand to his face.

I point at Grace without looking at her. “Did you hear her saying no?”

Trevor looks up, confusion glazing his eyes. “I—what?”

“You just assaulted her.” I turn to Grace, now shivering in Asher’s arms. “Are you okay?”

She has a hand over her mouth, eyes wide, but she nods. Asher slowly releases her. The happily drunk man from a few minutes before disappears. His edges go sharp, and he approaches Trevor without hurry. The same dark anger that fills my chest glitters in his eyes.

Asher steps on Trevor’s hand. “Get the fuck out of my house and don’tevercome back.”

My aching fist clenches again as Trevor stands and cradles his hand, stumbling backward. “I—I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”

Kill him. Slowly.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” I say. “I’ll kill you if you come near her again.”

He flees toward the gate, pulling his phone from his pocket. Once he’s gone, I turn to Asher, who nods, then to Grace.

She’s wide-eyed, her face a pale smudge in the darkness.

Asher takes one step toward her. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering, she throws herself at me, ringing her arms around my neck so tight I almost choke. “Thank you.”

Her lips brush my neck as she speaks and every hair on my body lifts.

I meet Asher’s gaze around Grace’s hair. He’s dumbstruck, his mouth parted as he stares at Grace in my arms.

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