Moving quickly, he springs over to Quinn, who’s struggling to get to his feet.
It happens so fast, events blurring together, and then it’s over as quickly as it began.
Quinn whimpers as Kayden grips him by the throat, hauling him to his feet. His eyes bulge and he looks at his friends, but they’re backing away, exchanging glances, clearly shocked at how violently and efficiently Kayden moved.
Kayden drags Quinn over to me, twisting his arm behind his back.
“Apologize or I’ll fucking snap it,” he growls. “Now.”
Quinn stares at me, still with a hateful look in his eyes. But he also looks so freaking pathetic, his mouth tightening as he lets out a whimper. I remember all the times he’s belittled me, bullied me, even once backing me into a corner and threatening to assault me.
“Well?” Kayden snaps.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn moans. “Jesus Christ, I’m sorry. Ow, ow, you’re hurting me… I’m sorry, Kyra. Okay? Shit.”
Kayden throws him to the ground. Quinn lets out a cry and rolls over from side to side, groaning as he holds his arm.
“If you ever talk to her like that again, if you ever threaten her or make her feel a slighted bit upset… next time I won’t be so fucking nice.”
Kayden strides toward the car, leaving Quinn to roll around. I follow quickly, sensing he wants me to follow.
“That was crazy,” I whisper, dropping into the passenger seat. “Why did you do that?”
Kayden turns to me, his eyes deadly serious, looking like a wild animal who’s finding it difficult to calm down.
“Nobody gets to talk to you like that,” he says, like stating a fact, leaving no room for argument, and then starts the car.
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here. You deserve so much better than this.”
Leaving me with about a million questions, Kayden backs the car up and drives away.
Chapter Eleven
Kayden
I keep my hand on the small of her back as we ride the elevator up to my apartment.
It’s a struggle not to let out a roar and push her up against the wall.
After what happened with that Quinn bastard, my every instinct told me to stop wasting time, to kiss her again, and let the kissing take its natural course.
Somehow, I manage to keep myself somewhat contained, though it takes a mammoth effort. My jaw ticking. I have to focus so I don’t curl my hand into a fist as I hold onto her back.
She looks up at me with shy eyes, her cheeks flushed in that adorable tempting way. She’s so damn unique, how she can look so vulnerable and sexy and pretty all at once. She doesn’t have to choose between beautiful and hot. She’s both.
She’s everything, my everything.
We’re gazing into each other’s eyes, both so lost in the moment Kyra jumps when the elevator beeps and the door opens. She giggles, shaking her head.
“I guess I’m on edge.”
“I don’t blame you,” I say, guiding her into the apartment. “It must be awful having to return there every day, not knowing if he’s going to decide to play the douchebag or not.”
She frowns. “I don’t think he’s playing. Do you think he’s going to be even worse now? I bet he’s pretty pissed.”
I lead her down a hallway, the walls covered in landscape paintings and a few pieces from historical wars. I don’t like putting up paintings of the wars in which I fought, not because I’m not proud of my service – I am – but because it reminds me of the brothers I lost.
“I don’t know,” I reply as we walk into the living room.
It’s a large open plan space, with tall ceilings and floor to ceiling windows looking over the city. I’ve always enjoyed how free it makes me feel, not boxed in, as though I can make a quick getaway if I ever need to.
Kyra gazes around the room, her mouth open in that cute-as-hell way of hers. Her eyes are wide, brimming with fascination.
“You can stay here if you like.”
Her gaze snaps to me. If anything, her expression becomes even stunning, as her mouth makes an O of surprise. “What?”
“It’s not my primary residence. I only brought us here because it was closer. I’ve been meaning to sell or rent it out, actually, but I’ve been so busy. But yeah, if you want, you can stay here. I can even send someone to your place to collect your things.”
She tilts her head. “But… why? And for how long?”
Forever, I want to growl. Until I move you into our home, that is.
Instead, I make myself turn away, stopping myself from letting it all flood out. It’s getting more and more difficult to keep the truth hidden.
“Until the show is over, at least. This place is far closer to the studio. It might make your life a little better.”
“For free?” she murmurs.