I ignored the way my bare skin felt against the tight leather skirt I was wearing and the way his eyes seemed to heat every single time they lingered on mine like he was waiting for me to snap and was willing to be on the receiving end of whatever that meant as long as he could torture me some more. That was Junior for you; he could make a person believe they were getting nothing but pleasure when he was doing nothing but offering pain. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Let’s go.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” he muttered, following behind me—because it was his job to protect me.
Protect me at all costs.
But nobody ever warned me that the very man who destroyed me was the one man who was supposed to protect me.
And sometimes I was afraid I wouldn’t ever be able to fix what he broke.
Not with him so close.
And yet so far away.
I kept my head held high as I walked down the hall toward the doors. And without even asking, two football players winked in my direction and opened them wide for me to step through.
“Such gentlemen.” I winked.
“Always.” Xavier was deliciously gorgeous, with firm muscles in all the right places, perfect mocha skin, and a jawline to die for.
I was about to say something, maybe suggest we should hang out this weekend, when Junior cleared his throat behind me.
“Care to be annoying elsewhere?” I seethed without turning around.
“No. Not really,” he said with a careless air. “Hey, Xavier, how’s the leg healing up?
Xavier shrugged. “Pretty good, coach says I should still start this weekend.”
“It would be a shame then, wouldn’t it?” Junior moved past me and started circling Xavier while his friend Penn held up his hands like he wanted nothing to do with us.
Great, another guy bites the dust.
“Junior,” I warned him, finally turning to face him.
“What would be a shame?” Xavier puffed his chest out. Bad idea. Bad idea! Couldn’t he tell Junior smelled blood and actually liked harming people? Got off on it in a way that was so horribly necessary in our world that nobody had ever held him back? Only encouraged it?
“If you lost it.” Junior’s grin was fierce.
“Lost it?” Xavier looked genuinely confused. “How would I lose my leg? I’m not really following, Bro.”
I almost groaned out loud.
“I’m so fucking glad you asked, man.” Junior wrapped a bulky arm around Xavier, and it was shocking how incredibly built Junior was even standing next to a collegiate athlete. “First, I’d give you a head start. What do you think, Serena? Maybe like thirty seconds?”
There was no point in stopping him, Junior had sniffed the blood, and now he would attack, and I had to keep up pretenses even when all I wanted to do was tell Xavier to run. I lifted one shoulder and let it fall like I didn’t care. “At least thirty.”
“Perfect,” Junior rasped, enjoying the game more than was natural, or human. “And after that thirty seconds, I’d, of course, come after you with a gun in my right hand, and a knife in the other, and you’d naturally notice some psycho chasing you so you’d run faster, but the shit deal here is this, I’m really fast, and also I have a gun. Ask Serena if I play fair.”
Xavier gulped and locked eyes with me. “Does he play fair?”
“Cheats at everything and on everyone,” I said with venom noticing something flicker in Junior’s eyes before he turned back to Xavier.
“So…” Junior semi-backed off. “You’d most likely go down after I shoot directly through your Achilles, and well, I’m not a total monster. I mean, I would for sure want to put you out of your misery, so I’d shoot your leg again, and then, I don’t know man, sometimes the ambulance, it takes forever to get on campus…” They stood chest to chest. “Feel me?”
Xavier wasn’t backing down. “Try me.”
“All right then.” I grabbed Junior by the arm, ignoring the flex of his bicep. “He gets it, Junior, no flirting.”
“Fuck.” Xavier shook his head. “This is because I’m talking to your girl? Just tell me next time, man.”
“She’s not mine,” Junior snapped.
And I felt it again, the slow spread of pain that started exactly where my heart was supposed to be, the cold metal of his blade as he twisted and twisted until it hurt to breathe.
She’s not mine.
She’s not mine.
She’s not mine.
“Then you have no claim.” Xavier flipped him his middle finger and turned to me at about the same time Junior lunged.
I blocked the first punch with my own body, nearly doubling over from the pain. “Junior, he’s right, let’s go.”
“If you so much as breathe in her direction—”
I shoved Junior out the door.
Thankfully he let me, probably because he knew he was acting like a petulant asshole.