All of Me (Confessions of the Heart 2) - Page 95

Disbelief had my mouth dropping open. He was serious. He actually thought that I would find comfort and safety in his home. That I’d what . . . keep my mouth shut like a good little wife? “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass on your brand of chivalry. And in case you need the reminder, I’m not your wife.”

“Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

Harsh laughter rocked out of me, all mixed up with the fear that curled and beat and thrummed in my blood.

He was insane.

One second, he was acting like he loved me and wanted to keep me safe, and the next he was threatening to be the one doing the damage.

I kept my chin lifted, refusing to cower. “Like what, Reed? Are you going to hit me? Have me taken out? Tell me exactly what it is you want to protect me from.”

He shuffled on his feet, dropping down to get in my face. “From things you don’t understand. And don’t act like I’m the bad guy here. I’m the one who has five-hundred grand missing from his safe. I will have that money, and I will have you.”

I cocked my head at him. Feigning strength. Defiance. Hating the way my knees were knocking. “You’re delusional. I’ll never let you touch me again, and I don’t have that money.”

A shriek flew out of my mouth when he twisted a hand in my hair and jerked it hard, venom grating from his mouth. “You think you’re smarter than me? You think I don’t know you took that money? It’s mine. Just like you. It’s time you remembered it.”

His mouth slammed down on mine, violent as he tried to force his tongue into my mouth, his body pressing into me.

Depraved and perverted.

Just like I knew he was.

Nausea lapped in my stomach, and I groaned a defiant sound. My hands slapped out as I flailed and tried to break free of his hold. He grabbed me by both wrists and pinned them over my head.

“No,” I screamed, no ears to hear it.

He kicked my legs apart and wedged himself between them. He held my wrists with one hand while one went to my breast. Squeezing hard.

I whimpered, tears springing to my eyes.

No.

This couldn’t happen. It couldn’t.

I struggled harder, trying to break free, kicking and trying to bite him when he pushed his hand up under my skirt. “Stupid girl.”

It rang with so much ugliness. And I could almost hear the voice whisper through the choppy air, Angel Girl.

Angel girl.

“You’re going to regret ever fucking with me,” Reed wheezed, hand fumbling under my skirt. “No one leaves a Dearborne.”

I kicked and screamed and wailed.

But he was stronger.

Crueler.

I was at his mercy.

That was a bad place to be when I knew he was merciless.

Twenty-Seven

Ian

I rammed on the brakes when I saw the Jaguar parked two houses down from Grace’s.

Awareness scattered across my flesh, a dark, black plague that pulsed with hostility.

That motherfucker was here.

The second I’d gotten word that the petition had been denied, I’d jumped in my car and headed over here.

Exactly like I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do.

I cut the engine and jumped out.

Adrenaline spiked, every muscle in my body curling with aggression as I moved up the sidewalk toward Grace’s house.

Trees and hedges surrounded the property, concealing the front.

But still, it was in the air—the taste of her fear.

I followed it, moving faster and faster with each step.

A scream broke in the air.

Grace.

That spike of adrenaline I’d felt when I first got here dumped like a vat into my system.

Brimming and overflowing.

I started to run, vision clouding with red when I rounded the hedge and found Grace caged against her car.

Bastard was plastered to that sweet body, grinding himself all over my girl. Hand under her dress while he tried to kiss her.

He was trying to kiss her.

Sweat slicked my skin, images flashing, my heart whipping and my spirit thrashing.

I sprinted for them.

There was no thinking it through. No calculating the risks or the consequences. I grabbed him by the back of the collar and yanked him away from her.

The asshole stumbled, so wrapped up in defiling the girl that he hadn’t even realized I was there.

Took him about two seconds to add it up.

“You fucking prick.” He came right for me.

I welcomed it.

The way his body slammed mine, the fucker wider than me, but he wasn’t close to being a match.

Pussy-bitch clean and polished.

He’d probably never even been the brunt of a schoolyard scuffle.

I let him take me to the ground, dick thinking he had the upper hand. He scrambled to get on top of me, and I lifted a foot and planted the sole of my shoe against his chest, sending him sailing where he thudded to the concrete.

Instantly, I spun, crouched before I attacked, on him in a second flat. My fists flew with all the fury I felt.

Tags: A.L. Jackson Confessions of the Heart Romance
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