Page 51 of Glorious Sinner

No way was I going anywhere with him. I tried to wrench away and he grabbed me around the waist, hauled me off the ground, and carried me toward the door.

“No.” I fisted his hair and yanked, doing my best to pull it out of his goddamn head. During our wrestling, I ended up with my front plastered to his, and I took advantage. I brought up my knee as hard as I could between his legs.

He screamed, the sound one of pain and rage mixed together. His hold loosened and I got free and ran for the door, but he grabbed me again from behind and slammed my head into the wall. My sight went dark for a moment, my head spinning as I grabbed at the small table beside me, searching blindly for what I knew was on it.

My fingers found the statue. The antique war horse and rider, forged in steel. Not huge, but heavy as hell. He had me by the hair, had started pulling me back. I ignored the pain and spun, slamming the statue into any part of him I could reach. It only managed to glance his shoulder and Ryan laughed, making my skin crawl.

The front door flew open and Ryan spun toward it, his knife at my throat.

Tomas stood there with a gun in his hand. We were side on, giving him a clean shot, and Tomas didn’t hesitate, saw his opening, and fired.

Ryan’s hold on me vanished instantly, and he dropped to the floor.

I stared down at him as a pool of blood quickly formed around his head, my ears ringing, voices muffled from the shot as people rushed around me. I dropped the statue and stumbled back, my legs giving out under me. I didn’t hit the floor. Tomas was there, scooping me up in his arms.

“Fuck. Where are you hurt, Angel?” he said, eyes filled with fear.

I looked down at myself and remembered I was covered in Ryan’s blood “It’s not mine,” I rasped. “I’m okay.”

Jude was there as well, along with Zeke and Neco. I watched in shock as Jude crouched down, checking Ryan’s pulse, not that I could imagine any scenario where he would have survived that. Jude looked up at us and shook his head.

“Arthur’s tied up in the living room,” I whispered. “He tried…he tried to stop me from opening the door…”

“I’m on it,” Zeke said and headed down the hall.

I gripped his shirt. “I thought, I thought I was going to…”

“Shhh, Angel.” Tomas spun away, carrying me from the foyer into his office. “I’m here,” he said against my temple. His voice was still muffled, the ringing still in my ears, but I heard him. “I’m here, Angel. You’re okay. You going to be okay.”

I got the feeling he was comforting himself as much as me.

“He can’t hurt you, not anymore. He can’t hurt you,” he said as he sat on the couch, me in his lap, and held me close.

I clung to him, breathing him in, needing his strength.

Tomas rubbed my back. “You were so brave, so fucking brave.”

We were silent after that.

The guys from The King Agency talked to the cops first, then they came in and spoke to Tomas and I. There was video footage of what happened, which meant Tomas wasn’t going to be charged for killing Ryan. He’d saved my life.

I could see he was getting impatient, and when another officer came in to talk to him, Tomas actually growled and held up his hand, stopping him from saying whatever he was about to say, and stood. “My woman is covered in that fucker’s blood. She’s tired. I’m tired. You want to ask me more questions, call me tomorrow. I want you all to leave. Now.”

Jude walked in during this. He was an ex-police officer and knew a lot of the officers there. He said something and the other guy dipped his chin and strode out.

“The body gone?” Tomas asked Jude.

“Yeah. You take care of her. I’ll help Arthur clean up a bit down here and make sure the place is secure when we leave.”

“Thanks. I owe you,” Tomas said.

Jude shook his head. “Nah, brother. We’re even.”

Tomas dipped his chin and carried me out of the office, tucking my head against his chest as we passed through the foyer. I knew the body was gone, but the blood and…other stuff wouldn’t be. He carried me up to his room and straight to the bathroom.

I gripped his biceps when he lowered me to the floor and looked up at him. “Thank you,” I whispered. “You saved my life. Again.”

“I nearly lost you.” The expression on his face could only be described as destroyed. “I should have been here. I should have been here to keep you safe.”