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Lover (Court University 4)

Page 120

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“Alec.”

He paused, facing my way. The knock on the door hit again, and I forced myself to ignore it. I swallowed. “You said you wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”

I waited with bated breath as this man righted and returned to his seat, so desperate for whatever he thought this meeting would result in that he did listen to me. He gripped his hands on the counter. “I do want to talk.”

One more knock, only one until it stopped, and I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t sink into the dread of my reality, Ramses leaving, leaving me, and this man in my kitchen. I couldn’t because I needed to figure out what to do.

I had knives, but none easily accessible. I had a knife drawer, but it was across the room and kept no guns like Alec.

I didn’t know if, not hearing from me, Ramses would take the initiative and use his house key. I’d given him one for emergencies but wasn’t sure if he’d just let himself in after the week we’d had. We were basically on a pause until I said something different.

The thought sobering, I eased forward, my ex-husband opening his hands. “Now, just hear me out, Bri.”

His words were lost to the ether at the sight of movement behind him, a man lingering in the hall. A large man with broad shoulders and dark eyes.

Oh my gosh, Ramses.

I lost my breath in that moment, my stance rigid and straight. It was enough for Ramses to pass his gaze between Alec and me, the man still talking. And where Ramses may have introduced himself, he didn’t. He stood there, watching on.

But then I mouthed: “Help.”

Alec noticed, turning back, but arms looped around his neck, cutting off his words mid-sentence.

Alec choked, struggling against Ramses strong hold. He punched at Ramses’s arms, and Ramses growled.

“Bri, get out of here. Call the cops!” Ramses roared, my ex standing, but even with his height, he fell just short of Ramses.

My boyfriend held on tight, but Alec had him in width. He was used to tackling guys twice Ramses’s size and shot an elbow into my boyfriend from behind. Strengthening his hold, Ramses refused to let go, but then Alec backed him into the wall and I screamed.

“Ramses!”

I forgot completely about running. I forgot about calling the cops because the impact completely knocked Ramses’s equilibrium off and he fell back.

He let go.

It was enough for Alec to reach back into his waistband, the action in slow motion. The man had death in his eyes, intention in his gaze. I knew he’d have no problem shooting Ramses rig

ht there in my kitchen. He’d have no problem killing him.

That was all I saw, my life and future flashing before my eyes.

It was enough for me to run.

It was enough for me to act, refusing to let this man take everything away from me. Ramses stood across the kitchen with his hands up, but while Alec moved that gun in the direction of my boyfriend, I found something to defend myself with.

I found something to end this.

The steak knife lodged into my ex-husband’s back, coming out dripping, coated in red. Alec stiffened, ramrod straight, but he didn’t drop the gun.

“Stop this!” I roared, tears streaming down my cheeks, and I stabbed again. “Stop!”

He merely stared back at me, rage in his eyes.

But then I stabbed again.

Again.



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