Rushed: Christopher (The Four 4.50) - Page 7

I knew the version of events I’d been told nowhere near covered the horror of it, but one thing was clear. Whatever had happened between Christopher and King that night had bonded them as uncle and nephew, not by blood but of the heart. If King was playing hardball with Christopher, things had to be pretty bad.

“I’m sorry you brought them all the way over here, but I told Gio to just throw them away if he didn’t want them,” Christopher murmured. If I hadn’t been looking at him, I might have believed in his dispassionate statement, but the way the young man looked at the books when he mentioned throwing them away was actually painful.

King sighed, seemingly unsurprised by the response. “Talk to me, Christopher…” my boss said so softly I almost didn’t hear him. King was the hardest man I knew, so for him to ask the young man like that… well, it just fucking sucked.

As much as I wanted to hear what Christopher’s response was, I’d already been privy to far too much, so I eased out of the kitchen in the hopes of not drawing attention to myself.

Mission not accomplished.

One second, I was turning around and heading for the door; the next, I was doing some not-so-fancy footwork to avoid a kitten that had appeared out of nowhere. Unfortunately, my forward momentum made it impossible to maintain my balance, and I pitched forward. I somehow managed to stay on my feet, but it wasn’t pretty as I stepped forward in an almost slow-motion running fashion while trying to regain my equilibrium. Inopportunely, the tiny orange ball of fur decided to escape in the same direction and once again ran straight in front of me. Knowing that even just the weight of my foot could crush a part of the kitten’s body, I instinctively reached down even as I began falling. I managed to scoop up the freaked feline and cuddled him to my chest as best as I could as I twisted my body so my back would take the brunt of the fall.

When it was all over, I was sprawled out on my back on the very hard floor with many, many mini razor-like claws embedded in my chest. To make matters worse, several pieces of what had once been some kind of side table were scattered around and beneath me, proving my pride and the freaked-out ball of fur hanging onto my chest hadn’t been the only victims of my clumsiness. The glass that was near my hip indicated there’d been at least one other victim of the melee. From the size of the pieces, I guessed I’d managed to take down a lamp, shattering the bulb in the process.

“Oh God,” I heard someone cry. Definitely not King, so that left Christopher. My body hurt like a son of a bitch as I shifted my weight a bit before detaching the kitten from my chest. The pitiful little thing was making soft mewling sounds but otherwise seemed to be okay. Before I could sit up, Christopher was at my side.

“Careful, there’s glass,” I said as I took in Christopher’s bare feet. Instead of him risking cutting himself by getting too close to me, I lifted the kitten toward him as best as I could. Predictably, he snatched the little thing up and hugged it to his chest. I dropped my head back down as I took stock of my injuries, which I knew were nowhere near as severe as the hit to my pride.

“You okay?” I heard King ask. I could hear the humor in his voice and knew I wouldn’t be hearing the end of this for a long while. I had my eyes closed, but I could already sense his presence standing above me, probably near my feet.

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off but then suddenly Christopher was saying, “Here, take him.” Confused by the statement, I opened my eyes only to find Christopher in the process of gently handing over the kitten to King, and then he was dropping to his knees next to me. I managed to swipe my hand across the floor to clear away most of the glass before Christopher’s body came in contact with it.

“What hurts?” Christopher asked as he took my hand in his. Despite the laughable situation, there was nothing funny about the sparks of energy that danced up my arm as Christopher’s slim fingers came into contact with my skin. The young man’s worried emerald eyes scanned my body.

It felt like he was doing it with his fingers. At least, that was the way my body was reacting to the whole thing. God, if he did start putting his hands on me…

“I’m good,” I said as I tried to sit up. Christopher’s surprisingly strong hands closed over my shoulders, stopping me from sitting up all the way.

Tags: Sloane Kennedy The Four M-M Romance
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