Page 60 of Reclaiming Izabel

I eyed the closed door nervously. Drake’s possessiveness had not changed. And because of the lingering angst over our relationship, it had only become worse. I didn’t fear for mysafety, but for Kyle’s. And I had no desire to have my husband thrown in jail for assault.

Kyle hurried to my side.

Drake was somewhere in the building.

This was a disaster on so many levels.

“God, Izzy. Are you okay?” He hauled me to my feet and dragged me to his chest. His breath fanned my hair. “I was so worried about you.”

“Kyle…” I tried to shove away, but Kyle gave me only enough room so he could search my eyes.

“Is he holding you against your will?” he asked.

“Drake? Of course not.” Indignation rocked inside me. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.”

“Are you saying you and Marcus went willingly with him?”

“Uhm…”

“I had the incident investigated,” Kyle stated grimly. “People talk given the right price. The news got it wrong.”

Oh shit.

“There was a misunderstanding. Let me go, Kyle,” I begged, stealing another anxiety-ridden glance at the door, which Kyle noticed.

“He’s with Marcus,” he assured me. “Are you afraid of him?”

“No, I’m afraid for you!” I said, frustrated.

Kyle chuckled bitterly. “I can take care of myself.”

He held me tighter. “I’m here, Izzy. You know that, right? I’ll help you get away from him?—”

The door opened, bouncing against the door stopper.

The forbidding shape of Drake darkened the entryway while Cindy peeked worriedly behind him.

“Did you just say that you were going to takemywifeaway from me, you motherfucker?”

The softly spoken words were delivered with enough menace that Kyle finally let me go, but he stubbornly refused to leave my side.

I looked at Cindy. “Get Marcus.” I tried to catch Drake’s attention, but his eyes were nailed to where Kyle stood beside me. “Drake…”

I tried to step away from Kyle, but he clasped my arm.

Big mistake.

I took a second too long to react because I didn’t know how to diffuse the situation without triggering my husband. And apparently, Kyle had no self-preservation either.

“You don’t have to do this, Izabel,” he said stubbornly.

Big fucking mistake.

“What is wrong with you?” I cried at Kyle, yanking at my arm. My voice was shrill with hysteria. The blast of rage from Drake slammed into me even before I saw him stalking toward us. “He’s my husband.”

“You got that right, baby,” Drake said in a casual tone. “Maybe I won’t kill him.”

Drake gripped Kyle’s wrist in a way that made him release me. I was pushed to the side, and all I saw was a blur of motion, heard a grunt and the sound of smacking flesh before Kyle went flying into my chair. Drake yanked him right up and threw him over the desk.

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