Roarke leaned in to me and whispered, “Can I trust him not to hurt you?”
I didn’t know. God, where had he been all these months? Why had he suddenly showed up out of nowhere? And here at the gala. It didn’t make sense.
I briefly shut my eyes then opened them again to make sure he was real.
He was.
Kilter was here.
So many emotions ripped through me. Anger. Relief. Warm tingling in my chest with stomach whooshes. And, God, he looked good, better than good. Maybe I hadn’t been in a place emotionally to appreciate how hot and sexy Kilter was, but I noticed now.
He wore faded black jeans and a grey T-shirt—tatts inked down both arms and bulging under his muscles.
“He won’t hurt me,” I told Roarke. “He was the one who rescued me from the compound.”
Roarke’s hand slid from my back, and his attention went to Kilter, although I suspected, even though Roarke had been looking at me, he’d been aware of Kilter’s every move. “Not here to harm her, Scar. She’s in danger—”
Kilter dove for him.
Roarke cursed before Kilter’s fist slammed into his jaw. He staggered a few steps, shook his head, and then came at Kilter, ducking, before he swung and hit Kilter in the face.
Kilter turned his eyes to me. “Get in the car.”
Then he yanked a knife from the leather sheath on his thigh. I knew what he was capable of with a knife, and despite not trusting Roarke, I didn’t want him killed.
“Kilter, no.” I ran to his side and grabbed his arm, but he ignored me, chest heaving, eyes burning red at Roarke. “Kilter, he wasn’t going to hurt me. Please, he was the only one who’d been nice to me in the compound.”
Kilter’s eyes darted to me and then back to Roarke.
Roarke stood with his hands up half-mast. “I have no weapon. Don’t want to fight, Scar.”
Kilter hooked his arm around my waist. “Stay the fuck away from her, Grit. I see you again, you’re dead.”
Roarke looked at me then nodded, turned, and walked away.
“Babe, car,” Kilter ordered and tugged on my elbow.
In the last several months, I’d learned to face my battles not run from them, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t nervous as hell around a man who was pulsating anger.
He tugged again.
I stood my ground, raising my chin and clutching the sides of my emerald silk gown as he moved to stand directly in front of me. He was so close now that I felt each breath waft across my face.
I swallowed. “I’m not getting in the car with you.”
He huffed. “Yeah, babe, you are.”
“No. I’m not.”
“Yeah. You. Are.”
I yanked my elbow from his grip and crossed my arms. “Why are you here, Kilter?” Shit, my voice cracked. But I couldn’t back down. I couldn’t let another man walk all over me.
“Why the fuck do you think?” he shouted and the valet getting out of a car turned to stare at us. Kilter either didn’t notice him or didn’t care that he was drawing attention. I was going for the latter. “We have shit to discuss.” He cupped my elbow and pulled me toward the car.
I pulled back. “Touch me again and I’ll have security here in two seconds.” Rebecca’s words repeated over and over in my head. You’re strong and deserve to be treated with respect.
His brows rose. “I don’t give a fuck if you call in the Navy SEALs. You and I are having a conversation.”
The spaghetti strap of my emerald dress slid down my arm and Kilter’s eyes followed it. I quickly slid it back in place and his eyes shot back to mine.
I glared. “I’m not your babe, so stop calling me that. And you can’t order me around.”
“I can.” Kilter hooked his arm around my waist and propelled me up against his chest in one fluid motion. My palms landed on his upper abdomen and his muscles contracted. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “For the third time, get in the car or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and put you in the car.”
I stood my ground. “You rescue me, acting all gallant and sweet, say you’ll help me, and then you just disappear.” I closed my eyes and fought the urge to pound my fists into his chest and yell and scream and completely freak out. Because I was so mad right now. And confused. And damn it, I wanted a reason why he left without a word, even if it wasn’t a reason I’d like.
He snorted. “Gallant?” There was a slight twitch at the corners of his lips. “Sweet?”
I scrunched my nose. “Well, you were nice in your sort of crude way, and now you’re not. Now you’re being an ass.”
He was quiet for a second, then said quietly, “You owe me.”
Wow. He thought I owed him. He thought I owed him? Was that why he was here? Because I owed him and he wanted something from me? It was like he slapped me across the face, and he must have noticed my reaction because he sighed, his hold on my waist relaxing.
“Not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” I retorted.