Page 33 of Stay Little Fighter

He scoffs. “I won’t need to tell them because you’ll be the first place they look.”

Vibrant blue eyes move from his father and pin me in place. Something a lot like concern flickers through his gaze, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Go back to your room, Chloe. Do not come out under any circumstances. Do not tell anyone about this, or next time I’ll let him follow through with his threats.”

I only hesitate for a second before pushing myself to my feet. Stars burst into my vision, but I stumble forward, desperate to get away as quickly as possible.

It’s not until I’m almost at the side door I snuck out of that I turn back in time to see Salvatore strike his son, the sound of the punch amplified through the silent night.

He takes two more hits before I slip through the doorway, my stomach rolling with horror at everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes.

By the time I make it to my bedroom and have the door closed behind me, violent sobs rack through my body, tearing from my burning throat until my legs will no longer hold me.

How am I supposed to keep living in this house, in this family, when it’s clear I’ll always have a target on my head?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

RYKER

NOW

Iswear to God I’m never letting Chloe out of my sight again.

I’m retiring from killing because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave my siren alone or trust her safety with any of these other assholes she’s so attached to.

They clearly cannot be trusted, and I won’t be making the same mistake again.

The only reason I relinquished the driver’s seat is because Remy drives faster than anyone I’ve ever met and hasn’t given a fuck about road rules since he was a kid, so if anyone is going to get us to the hospital in record time, it’s him.

I stare down at my phone with trembling hands. They’re a few miles behind us and gaining fast, but it does little to settle the violent ache inside my chest.

There’s a reason I kept myself away from people for so many years and why I never regretted that choice. Because caring for others fucking hurts.

Especially when the only woman you’ve ever loved has a penchant for getting herself kidnapped over and over again.

That reminds me, I need to speak to Corbin about trackers for all of them.

I’m not getting myself into a family unit with a bunch of people that attract enemies like it’s going out of fashion without knowing exactly where they all are at all times.

Especially Chloe.

I wonder how many trackers I could have on her person at any given time.

“You’re looking more psychotic than normal,” Kingston murmurs from the passenger seat. “You’re not thinking about chaining Chloe to you for the rest of her life, are you?”

“The idea has merit,” I grunt. “But no. I was thinking about trackers.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Of course you were.”

“In the short time I’ve known her, Chloe has disappeared on me three different times, not including the time she ran and I spent seven hours in her trunk. I think it’s warranted.”

“Never said it wasn’t.”

Dropping my head back against the headrest, I drag in a ragged breath but it does little for the ache in my chest.

I need to see her.

I need to see she’s okay, but if Ronan’s voice when he demanded a car was anything to go by, I assume she’s hurt.