“Upstairs. He’s waiting on me. Let’s not make him come down here.” I played innocent, but Derrick knew that it was a threat. And it absolutely was.
His body tightened, and he immediately stepped away. I released a relieved breath, but it was entirely premature, because not even a second later, his fist landed hard against my face. My head snapped to the side as I fell over and collapsed against my easel before crashing to the floor.
“You think I’m fucking afraid of him?”
I had but one response. “Till!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, banging my hands against the wall. They were stilled as another fist landed against my cheek. My mind lagged as I tried to remain conscious. I needed help, and I knew he was only one paper-thin wall away.
“Till! Help me!” I shouted again, but a boot under my chin silenced any further cries.
“Till! Wake up. Till!”
I felt Quarry shaking my shoulders, but I could barely make out his words. I opened my eyes and saw his mouth moving, but he sounded a million miles away.
“Get up. Something’s wrong with Eliza.” His voice began to drift into clarity.
“What?” I jumped to my feet at the very mention of her name.
“She was screaming for help, so Flint took off and went down there. He told me to wake you up.”
Without another word, I rushed from my room, and just before I hit the front door, I heard a crash in Eliza’s apartment.
“Stay here,” I ordered, taking off down the stairs.
When I rounded the corner, I saw Eliza’s door wide open and heard a commotion. At a dead sprint, I rushed inside without a single fear of what I would encounter. She was in there. That alone was enough to force me into the pits of hell.
“You Page boys really are fucking stupid! You think you can take me?” Bailey yelled from on top of Flint’s chest, raining punches over his face.
Flint’s hands were raised defensively, but they did little good.
I dived across the room, catching Derrick off guard and knocking him to the floor. I had been livid when I’d seen him hit Flint, but nothing in my rough life could have prepared me for the way I felt when I lifted my eyes to find Eliza beaten, bloody, and curled into a ball in the corner of the room. Her gaze met mine and the dam broke as tears rushed from her eyes. Her body bucked as a sob tore from her throat. It didn’t take long to piece together the situation in front of me.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, knowing exactly what I needed to hear.
As soon as the words cleared her lips, my mind checked out completely. Murder and rage quickly filled the empty space it had left behind.
Derrick was just rising to his feet when I threw the hardest punch of my life. It was packed with more than simple determination to win a fight. It was packed with raw and visceral fury.
My knuckles cracked as they landed on his face. I also felt his cheekbone shatter under the blow, and it fueled me forward. Not a word was spoken by anyone in the room as my left hook landed hard on his kidney. He doubled over right in time for my uppercut to snap his head back. His legs were at least smart, because they carried him away from me as they fought to stay underneath him.
I charged after him, nowhere near done yet.
“You fucking piece of shit,” I growled, dodging his half-assed attempt at a blow.
“Fuck you. Enjoy my sloppy seconds.” He laughed with false confidence before spitting blood onto the floor.
I cracked my neck. I knew he was lying; he’d never had her. But the poor bastard actually thought he had gotten something from her and, in turn, something from me. He might have briefly touched what was mine, but he’d never had even a tiny morsel of Eliza Reynolds.
I focused to keep my eyes off her, knowing that one more glance would ensure that Bailey ended the night in a morgue. I needed to get to her, but not until he paid.
“See, clearly, you got confused somewhere.” I stepped forward, slamming a fist into his mouth. “That woman you just put your hands on has been mine since she took her first breath of air on this Earth.”
I threw a right he surprisingly dodged, but I followed it up with a quick left, knocking him to his ass. Then I lowered myself over him, assuming the same position he’d had on Flint. Grabbing his throat, I cut off his airway. His arms began to wildly seek out contact, but they only ended up sailing through the empty air. His eyes were bulging as he turned red.
“And last night, I finally claimed her once and for all. That date you went on was never about you. It was always about me. All you got was an angry woman trying to make me hurt. But make no mistake—every single time she looked at you, touched you, or even spoke to you, it was always”—I leaned in as close as I could get—“me!”