Page 26 of The Reaper
What the hell was she doing here?
Judging from the way she was glancing around nervously and sipping on the straw in her drink, she was on her own. That fact alone made me want to react, and not in a good way.
Did she have no concept of self-preservation?
In the short time that I’d gotten to know her, I could tell she was too trusting, too open. The perfect target for some of the vultures that circled around Brinton.
She was wearing a tight black dress, cut way too short for my liking, and I clenched my jaw. No man had the right to expect any woman to dress a certain way, so why was it bothering me that her skirt was short and showing off her legs? Since when did I turn into that asshole? If I carried on thinking this way, I’d have to kick my own ass.
Her black hair hung in waves down her back, and I tried to steady my breath as I thought about wrapping that hair around my fist, pulling her head back, seeing her neck twisted as she gazed up at me.
No.
Thoughts like that about a girl like her had no place haunting my mind. She was a fucking vicar’s daughter, for Christ’s sake. And yet, she looked anything but holy tonight. The taste of sin and corruption was all too tempting.Shewas all too tempting, and I felt all kinds of wrong for wanting to explore what could never be.
I watched her for a moment, lost in her world, oblivious to the stares she was getting from men around her. Stares that made me want to tear someone’s eyeballs out. When a guy close by decided to tap her on the shoulder and try to talk to her, I couldn’t stand it anymore, and without thinking about the consequences, I stalked right over there.
Once I was behind her, I glared over her shoulder at the guy trying to chat her up. His cocky face glared right back at me, so I made sure he got the message crystal clear.
“Fuck off. She’s with me.”
Leah May turned around when she heard my growling, snarly voice, and her eyes widened.
“We were having a conversation,” cocky guy spat back, and it took every ounce of restraint I had not to punch him for daring to answer me back. Who the fuck did he think he was?
I squared my shoulders, folded my arms over my chest and stated plainly, “Conversation’s over. Like I said, she’s with me.”
I could feel the thump of my heartbeat banging against my chest, adrenaline racing through my veins in anticipation of a battle that he wouldn’t win, and I would revel in. The music in the club was doing an excellent job at drowning out the screech of white noise in my ears. I didn’t like being challenged, and certainly not in front of her. This man was pushing his luck and shredding the last nerve I was holding on to. When I looked down at Leah May, I expected to see something akin to fear or defiance, but all I saw was a strange look of awe sparkling in her eyes.
Did she like that I’d developed a possessiveness over her tonight?
“Whatever.” The guy shrugged like it meant nothing and hid the fact that he probably felt like a prize dick for being shot down, and he turned back around to talk to his friends.
I took a few breaths to steady myself, but as I leaned down to whisper in her ear over the noise of the music, I couldn’t stop myself from putting an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to me. Seems it wasn’t enough to look at her, talk to her, or have her close. No, I needed to touch her too. Judging from the burning sensation that I felt in my gut, I liked it. She must’ve too, because she didn’t pull away, only melted further into me.
“You never learn, do you?” I whispered, closing my eyes and inhaling the sweet smell of her hair and perfume. “I thought I told you to stay away.”
She tilted her head up slightly and replied, “And I thought you’d learned that I don’t like being told what to do.”
I kept my arm around her, holding her tightly. She fitted against me perfectly, and when she rested her hand on my chest and looked up into my eyes, I felt as if the rest of the world had fallen away. Birds weren’t meant to be caged, but this little raven seemed to like being caught by me. I liked it too.
I picked up her hand to inspect the bruising on her knuckles. In this light, it didn’t look that bad, but I still asked, “Are you still hurting?”
“Not from the bruises on my hand,” she said, and when I frowned at that response, she added, “I’m fine. It’s faded and all I have left is a bruised ego. I need to remember paperweights are deadly weapons too sometimes.”
My stomach twisted with the realisation that she wasn’t telling me the truth. I didn’t like being lied to.
“I thought you said you trapped your hand in a door?”
Her eyes went wide, but not in awe this time. She knew she’d been caught out.
“I did. I’m just talking rubbish. Ignore me.”
I wasn’t about to ignore her. She might talk in rhymes and weird cryptic shit sometimes, but I could tell when someone was lying to me, and she was lying.
“What’s going on, Leah May? Why are you here?” I needed her to tell me the truth. I also needed her to ease the ache that was piercing my heart and my stomach. Holding her was helping somewhat, but I had to have more.
“I came to enjoy myself. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”
