Come To Me (Owned 3) - Page 51

It was California, after all.

Because Lenny purposefully avoided our street, she turned down all types of alleys as she made her way back to Grace’s. She picked up her pace and so did the asshole from the café. I lost them when Lenny crossed the street and I missed the light. As much as I wanted to try my luck at playing Frogger with the cars, it was rush hour, so it made more sense to wait.

The light turned red and I sprinted. I looked left and right, trying to see if I could spot her bright red hair. The sun had dropped beneath the waters and it was full dark. A dusky, cobalt color now blanketed the sky, but her hair always shone no matter the time of day.

I listened, trying to see if I could hear her instead.

“Do you remember me now, cunt?” The asshole’s voice drifted over sounds of cars and people talking. My heart leapt in my chest. Was this how it was going to be? After everything, after fucking dying, I let her fall to the hands of some lowlife with a grudge?

Letting all the superfluous noises fade away, I narrowed in on his voice. It doesn’t matter how close a person is, if you’re not trained, it can be nearly impossible to pinpoint which direction a sound is coming from. Letting not even my own breathing distract me, I followed the cadence of his rage.

As soon as I fingered the location of his voice, I ran. Avoiding shoulders, trashcans, everything, I sprinted until I reached them. When I got there I expected to find Lenny crumpled in the corner of the alley. I expected a redo of Dean, of GEM, of our life, basically. Instead I got…

“Yeah I remember you. Will you finally fuck off now?” Lenny took his head in both arms and brought it up to her knee, quickly knocking him out. He fell to the ground and crumpled. Lenny stood above him, a slight cock to her head, as if studying what she’d just done.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: you can never prepare yourself for Lenny.

Where the fuck had she learned how to do that?

In all the mayhem, I hadn’t realized how close I’d gotten. The intense, visceral longing that drove me to protect Lenny had driven me until I was just behind her. I had prepared myself to fling the asshole against the wall. I’d been prepared to string him up and strappado him. When I’d arrived, he was already limp.

So now I was just behind Lenny. I could smell her. I could practically touch her—

Ouch. Motherfucker that hurt.

“Is it asshole night or something?” Lenny yelled as she cocked her elbow into my nose. Surprise hit me first, but then realization: She thinks I want to hurt her. As she readied her foot, I grabbed it, spinning her so she fell off balance. She danced on one leg then summoned all her weight to kick off me.

We both fell, our bodies flung in opposite directions. She immediately scampered to stand and fight.

“Lenny!” I pleaded—though, fuck, what she was doing was incredibly arousing.

Her eyes went wide when she locked in on me. Big and blue, they looked at me like I was a ghost.

I suppose I was.

I reached out to touch her cheek, unable to stop myself after weeks of holding back. She scampered back, plastering herself against the brick alley. I couldn’t blame her. If I saw the dead I would freak the fuck out too. Eyes wide, she stared at me. Sighing, I sat back on my ankles.

Lennox Moore was like a beacon for trouble. Some people are like that, though. Some people shine so bright the world can’t help but want to snuff it out.

They attract jealousy.

They attract rage.

If people can’t own the light, they’ll do everything they can to make it duller. Me, I’m just damn lucky, damn glad I got to stand in it for as long as I did.

“What the fuck is this?” she eventually asked.

“It’s me, Lenny.”

“No it isn’t. I’m hallucinating. I’m seeing things again.” Lenny tried to stand up, but some injury prevented it. She fell and tripped into me. I held her and it was bliss. I’d been imagining her body next to mine for weeks. For the few brief seconds she didn’t fight me, it was ecstasy. Her scent, her feel, all finally back where they belonged: with me.

The reason for my holding her was of course terrible. She was in pain—again. I quickly recounted our fight, but couldn’t discover a reason for why she would be injured. Had I not arrived soon enough and that asshole had already hurt her? Questions flew through my head like loose pages in a windstorm.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“But your leg?”

Tags: Mary Catherine Gebhard Owned Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024