She pulled away and offered me a sad smile. My hands were still on her waist as Drake moved past and shoved her hard. I stopped her fall and shifted her against her locker. Within seconds, my fist connected with the back of his head.
People jumped out of the way, some of them crying out, others whooping. My fist cracked against his nose when he spun around, sending blood pouring down his face. I’d just finished telling B we’d protect her, and then this shit for brains came along and shoved her. No fucking way. I’d bury this asshole and make B a believer.
“Piece of shit,” I snarled as I punched him in the ribs, causing him to double over and gasp for breath. “Don’t fucking touch what belongs to the kings. That includes our girl.”
“She’s not your girl,” he rasped, ramming his shoulder into me and sending me stumbling back. “She’s De Santis’s little fuck toy. We all know it. He married her. By the time you get to her, she’s just sloppy seconds."
Motherfucker. I saw red. I punched him again as he laughed before I brought my knee up into his guts, sending him hunching over again. I was just about to bring it up once more and finish off his nose when B darted in front of me and pushed me away from the piece of shit.
“Don’t,” she said.
I stared down at her, my fury fading away. I noted Vasiliev and Tate had entered the fray and were now helping Drake stand. I caught Vasiliev’s eye and noted the grim look on his bruised face. His gaze darted to B, a look of longing in his eyes, before he schooled it and focused on the shit stain in front of him.
I took B’s hand and pulled her away, hating she ever had to see the ugly side of our lives. Truth be told, if she hadn't stepped in, I would've probably killed him on the spot, opting to stomp on his fucking head the moment I got it on the ground.
I let B lead the way without saying a word. We reached my dorm a few moments later.
“Sit,” she instructed, pointing to my bed.
I did as she commanded and watched as she rummaged around in my bathroom before emerging with a first aid kit and a cloth.
“I’m fine,” I said as she kneeled in front of me.
“You’re not. You’re bleeding.” She dabbed my cheek with a warm rag and frowned at a cut I hadn’t even known I had. I studied her face, in awe of her. She was a remarkable woman.
I winced as she cleaned my wound before moving to my hands, where I’d broken the skin on my knuckles punching him.
“You didn’t need to fight,” she said as she finished bandaging me.
“I’m not going to let someone push my girl around,” I answered, flexing my hand. Yeah, that shit would be sore tomorrow.
She frowned. “Am I your girl? I’m married to Dom now.”
“You’re still my girl, B,” I confirmed, reaching out and cradling her face in my hands. “You’re also Dom's and Levin’s.”
“And Fallon’s?” She looked up at me, her brow crinkled.
I sighed, not wanting to give her an outright no since she looked so damn hopeful. In the grand scheme of things, I doubted Vasiliev would become a king. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know we led dangerous lives, and he’d probably fuck up or die before he was sworn in as a king.
I said as much, “I don’t know. Maybe if he doesn’t fuck up.”
“He won’t. I know he won’t.”
“You really have faith in him. I admire that. I just want you to have that much faith in us too.”
She scoffed and turned away.
I leaned in and cradled her cheek, bringing her focus back to me. “I’ll prove you can trust the kings. If I’m being honest, you make me nervous.”
“I do?” Her lips were a breath from my own.
“Yeah. I don’t want you to break my fucking heart. You leaving us would gut me. The fact you’re cutting Vasiliev slack wounds me. I think in this entire shitstorm, I’m the one who was by your side and didn’t want any of this. I feel like my punishment is unjust. I just… want you, B.” I didn’t wait for her to answer. I closed the distance and pressed my lips to hers, relishing her cherry lip gloss and the soft, little sound she made as my tongue slid along hers.
After she kicked my ass all over the safe house, I didn’t expect her to kiss me back. I figured she’d knock me out with a lamp or her high heel, but no, she fell into our kiss quickly, her fingers mussing my hair as she raked them through it.
Did I win her over? Were my words enough? Did fucking up Drake’s face help?
“What the fuck?” Dom’s voice called out.
Bianca was snatched away from me, leaving me with nothing but a raging hard-on and a glare on my face.
“Yeah. What the fuck?” I said, glowering at Dom as he held Bianca’s arm.
She struggled against him, but he held tight.
“Let me go.” She kicked his shin, which only made him growl and pull her struggling body against his.
“What did I just walk in on?” Dom demanded, staring down at her, both his hands holding her upper arms.
“He kissed me,” she said.
“Hey, you kissed me back,” I cut in, disbelieving she'd broken so easily and pinned the blame all on me.
She shot me a look which said what I'd assumed. She liked it. She wanted it.