CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’ll fucking kill you.”
I knew even before I choked out the words that they were true.
I didn't know who the hell the guy was. (And I didn’t care either.) But I did know that his fingers were wrapped so tightly around Wisp’s arm that the skin around them was turning white. (What I did care about was getting them off her. I would snap them off one by one if I had to.) I also knew that he was responsible for her pinched expression, for the wild – scared – look in her eyes.
And that was all the reason I needed.
I would kill him.
“This bitch yours?” the oblivious asshole sneered, jerking Wisp forward, shaking her, unknowingly pounding another nail into his own coffin.
Wisp didn’t respond at all to the ill treatment; she just kept looking at me with her wide, terrified eyes. They were fucking pleading with me, but whether they were asking for help or begging for me to remain calm, I didn't know. It didn’t matter. I already knew which route I was going to take. The fucker’s fate was set in stone.
“Let go of her,” I forced out between clenched teeth, the words more growl than English, as I sidestepped the ever-useless Ash Abernathy.
The man scoffed. “She broke my fucking nose.”
For the first time, I noticed the red dripping from his nostrils, down his mouth and chin. I’d been so focused on Wisp and the meaty fingers wrapped around her arm that I hadn’t even noticed. I felt a burst of pride swell in me – Wisp had done that – followed by something much darker. The sight of the blood gushing from his nose, the smell of it – it left a coppery, tangy taste in the air – appealed to him.
He – I – wanted more.
But I couldn’t touch him if he wouldn’t let Wisp go.
I sneered. “You’ll have more to worry about than your nose if you don’t. fucking. let. her. go.”
The stupid asshole frowned, finally seeming to sense that my threats weren’t idle. He eyed me up and down, and I felt a growl reverberate in my chest. I fought the urge to let it free and straighten my spine – make myself look bigger in his obvious appraisal of me. There was no need. I was already taller, stronger, better than he was, and judging by the way his mouth twisted when he finally looked away from me, he knew it too.
Anticipating a concession, my entire body stiffened when instead of releasing Wisp, the jackass in the suit pulled her closer to him. Every muscle sang with tension as I held myself back from springing forward and satisfying the urge to rid him of more of his blood.
The fucker leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear as he began to whisper, unaware that I could hear every word that passed his rotten mouth. “You’re lucky your boyfriend showed up, honey,” he hissed, and I saw red, angry crimson bleeding into my vision, “or you’d be apologizing for your unladylike behavior on your knees, your mouth stuffed full of my di-.”
Blood rushed to my head, pounding in my ears, blocking out the rest of what he said. But I had heard enough, and raw, unfiltered rage battered against my skull. He battered against it, begging to be set free, demanding retribution.
He’s threatening her, threatening what’s mine.
When the man shoved Wisp forward a moment later, I barely had the presence of mind to catch her. Ignoring the innate urge to run my hands over her, check her for injuries, make sure not a single fucking hair was out of place, I calmly picked her up by the waist and set her aside.
I could look her over as soon as the threat was annihilated.
The arrogant fool had already turned his back to me, complaining loudly to his friends. “Goddamn hicks, am I right?”
I pounced.
“Derek!”
The asshole’s chin collided harshly with the floor, ricocheting off the hardwood. “The fuck?” He heaved, spitting out blood.
Jerking him around and slamming his back to the floor, I wasted no time in smashing my fist into his face. Crack.
If his nose hadn’t been broken before, it certainly was now. Blood gushed from his nostrils, and he howled in pain, but it wasn’t enough.
It wouldn’t be until he was still – lifeless – beneath me.
Keeping him pinned to the glass-covered floor with my knees, I pummeled my fist into his face again and again, enjoying the feel of skin, muscle, bone breaking beneath my bare hands. I beat him until his face was a mess of red, until he was choking on it – and then I kept going.
There were hands on me, a few of the guy’s buddies trying to rip me off him, even fucking Abernathy trying to pull me away, but they were no match for my supernatural strength, and I batted them away like the insignificant gnats they were.
There was yelling, too. I could make out Gemma’s authoritative voice, shouting, “That’s not fucking helping!” and ordering people to back the hell off. There was also the shrill shrieking of Blair, who must have followed me downstairs.
“Stop! Derek, stop!”
And Wisp.
For the first time since I had brought the worthless piece of flesh lying under me to the ground, I hesitated to land a punch.
“Please, Derek!”
Arms wrapped around me from behind, clinging to my neck, not restraining me, but… embracing me. Hugging me as tightly as they could. “Please, Derek. He can’t hurt me anymore. Let him up. Let him go.”
I eyed the man beneath me. Wisp was right. He was limp, eyes swollen shut, his entire face a massive bruise. His low groaning was the only thing giving away the fact he was still clinging to consciousness, that he was even alive.
My hand, raised above my head in a fist, slowly relaxed before falling feebly back down to my side.
Wisp released a relieved sigh – a warm puff of air against my neck. “Thank you.”
She sounded so grateful that for a second, I almost regretted not stopping earlier. (Almost.)
I allowed her to pull me away, to pull me off him. Ignoring the mass of stunned onlookers, she led me to an empty stool near the bar, and I obediently sat. It was like she knew what to say, what to do, to keep me grounded – to sooth the animal rippling beneath the surface, so close to emerging. She took my hands in hers – they were so small, my palms dwarfed hers – and brought them to either side of her face. “See, I’m okay. A little shaken up, but I’m fine.”
For once not resisting the urge to wrap her in my arms, I pulled her into my lap. Ignoring her gasp of surprise, I buried my head into the juncture of her neck and shoulder and inhaled her honey-sweet scent like I needed it more than air.
I honestly think I did.
I didn’t realize how much I’d needed to touch her – to hold her, to smell her – until then. With her comfortable weight in my lap and her cloying scent clogging my nose, the tension finally began to drain from my bunched shoulders, and the red that had crept into my vision – the angry haze that had blanketed logical thought – lifted.
What had just been background noise before became real sounds – conversations, both loud and hushed – that had meaning. Asshole’s buddies were yelling loudly about calling the cops, Gemma was ordering them to get out of her bar before she called the cops. Abernathy’s voice trickled in, too, irately reminding everyone that he was a cop.
“Feeling better?” Wisp asked meekly after a few minutes had passed, attempting to pull away from me.
Almost involuntarily, my grip around her waist tightened. “Just … don’t move. Not yet.”
She was quiet for a minute before her muscles finally relaxed, and she hesitantly wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Okay.”
We stayed that way for an indeterminable length of time, my face buried in her neck and her arms resting loosely around me. My eyes were closed, so I couldn’t see what was going on around us, but I could hear well enough.
Gemma and Liam, who must have emerged from the kitchen sometime in the chaos, had kicked nearly everyone – including the asshole I’d beaten to a pulp – out of the bar. Judging by the number of heartbeats that remained, only they, Wisp and I, and Abernathy were left in the building.
A quiet, but sharp conversation between the married couple and Abernathy was taking place across the room, and I could have easily heard them if I deigned, but wrapped comfortably around Wisp, I couldn’t bring myself to care what they were saying.
I felt more than heard someone approach a few minutes later, and I resisted the urge to hold even more tightly to the girl in my lap. She had the opposite reaction, however, and this time when Wisp pulled away, I reluctantly forced my grip to loosen.
“I’m going to have to take you down to the station.”
Even though we were no longer touching, I still sensed the way Wisp stiffened at the words. Finally forcing my eyes open, I stared down the man standing before me. I took in his unfriendly stance – the rigid way he held himself, and the hard glint in his eyes.
He stirred. And sensing another fight, my muscles tightened. If Abernathy thought for one second that he was going to separate me from Wisp, he was in for a rude awakening.
“W-what?” Wisp asked, the obvious distress in her voice only spurring him – me – on.
But I couldn’t disengage myself from the stare-down with the cop to reassure her. Abernathy didn’t look away either, not even as he answered her. “You saw what he did, Wisp. He’s dangerous.”
She was quiet for a second, and then… “Derek was just protecting me, Ash.”
Even though she was defending me, the familiar way his name rolled off her tongue goaded me into action. I stood from the stool, enjoying the way Ash’s expression twisted when he was suddenly forced to look up to meet my eyes. “Yeah, Ashley.” I jeered, using his actual name, “I was just doing your job while you stood around, watching that asshole manhandle her. What? Were you going to wait until he was raping Wisp there on the floor, right in front of you, before-”
“Derek!” Wisp sounded a mix of shocked, angry, and embarrassed all rolled into one.
“You’re in enough trouble as it is, Blackwood,” Ash added. “I’d watch your mouth if I were you.”
I offered him a sardonic smile. “Good thing you’re not me then.”
“Derek… please,” Wisp begged, a desperate edge to her voice, and it was enough for reason to finally take root in my brain. Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I forced myself to sit back down on the stool.
It wasn’t easy to stay there, though, when Wisp reached out and carefully curled her fingers around Abernathy’s arm, leading him to the other side of the room. I roughly clutched the edge of the stool in an effort to keep myself grounded as I listened in on their conversation.
“Please, Ash.”
I tensed at the way his heart skipped a beat at her vague pleading. When he answered her, though, Abernathy’s voice was all business. “Derek broke the law, Wisp. He violently assaulted that man. If he decides to press charges, Derek could be in real trouble, face prison time, even.”
Her heartbeat skyrocketed. “But… I mean… isn’t there something you can do?”
Even though I didn’t have a clear view of his face, I knew Abernathy was frowning. “If you’re asking me to break the law…”
“No!” Wisp interjected immediately. “No, of course not. I’m just saying… it might be helpful to Derek’s case if you impressed upon that… man the fact that if he presses charges against Derek, I’ll press charges against him right back. After all, there were plenty of witnesses to his actions, and if a respected police officer such as yourself vowed to testify against him…” she trailed off, allowing Abernathy to connect the dots.
I didn't know whether to be irritated she was trying to protect me or impressed with the simple brilliancy of her plan.
Abernathy was quiet as he digested her words. “I’ll see what I can do,” he reluctantly agreed a moment later. “But for you, not that asshole,” he added swiftly, jerking his head in my direction.
The feeling’s mutual, buddy.
But then, all thought fled my mind when Wisp leapt into his arms, throwing her arms around his neck in an unexpected hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.
My inner beast roared his displeasure, only quieting when she pulled away from him a few seconds later.
Abernathy blinked away the slightly dazed look in his eyes before managing to shoot another glare in my direction. “I still think he could use the night to cool off in a cell,” he muttered.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Wisp dismissed his concerns with a flippant wave of her hand.
I felt a spark of perverse pleasure ignite at the shocked look on his face. “Wait. You’re staying with him?” he demanded.
Did the love-struck fool not see the way she’d been huddled in my arms earlier? My arms. Mine.
Wisp shifted uncomfortably. “Um… yes?”
Abernathy pursed his lips. “Then I really should book him.”
“Ash!”
“What? I don’t like the idea of you out in the middle of the boonies alone with that guy. He’s unpredictable with a predisposition for violence.”
I could tell by the tense set of her shoulders that Wisp didn’t like hearing that one bit. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Derek has been nothing but the perfect gentleman,” she protested tersely.
Some of the stiffness drained from my muscles, but not enough that I dared to let go of the stool.
“If you say so,” Abernathy agreed after a moment of strained silence, though it was clear enough he thought differently. “Just promise me you’ll call if you ever need help. Here,” he said, pulling a pen from the inner pocket of his jacket, “I’ll give you my number.”
Wisp’s brow wrinkled in consternation. “That’s really not necessary.”
“Promise, or I’ll get my cuffs right now.”
Fucking asshole, manipulating – damn near forcing – her into taking his number.
Wisp sighed, and I could practically see the fight fleeing her. “Fine.”
I didn’t see or hear more because Gemma was suddenly in front of me, Liam a foot behind her. “I’m so sorry, Derek.”
She looked it, too. Gemma was visually distraught, tired bags under her eyes and her cheeks still red from all the yelling she’d been forced to do.
I turned away from her, not feeling particularly forgiving. “You should be apologizing to Wisp.”
“Hey, now-” Liam tried to protest.
“It’s not her fault.”
Wisp.
She was back from talking to Abernathy, and my eyes immediately darted to the black ink on the back of her left hand: Abernathy’s number scrawled across her skin. It invited my rage all over again.
“I told her to fucking watch you!”
Wisp tensed, nearly as shocked as I was that I was shouting at her, before anger all her own sparked in her eyes. “I can wat-”
“Please tell me that the words ‘I can watch myself’ are not about to come out of that pert, little mouth,” I interrupted, disbelief saturating my voice. “Because, really, Wisp? I think we’ve established a pattern by now. And no, you absolutely cannot.”
A pause.
“Even if that was true,” she said slowly, “did it ever occur to you that you wouldn’t have to worry about me ‘watching myself’,” she made sure to use finger quotations, “if you didn’t foster me off on other people just so you can do things like go upstairs with that… woman.”
Wisp said “woman” like other people would say “whore”.
I just scoffed. Because even if a small part of me knew she was right, I couldn’t admit it. We stared at each other, neither willing to back down, my teeth clenched so tightly together that my jaw ached.
Wisp buckled first, like I innately knew she would. Huffing, she looked away. “Can you drive?” she asked testily.
Not trusting myself to speak, I offered a jerky nod.
“Good. Let’s go home then. Ash is taking care of… all this.” She gestured vaguely about the room.
I stiffened. “Of course he is,” I muttered sarcastically.
Wisp frowned at my snide tone. “You really should thank him, you know.”
I snorted. “The only thanks that asshole wants is the kind you can give him.”
Wisp bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.
“You know what it means! Either that, or you’re even more naïve than I thought.”
I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them, even more so when I spotted the suspicious sheen in her eyes.
“I guess I am,” she said softly. “I’m just as fresh as you think I am. Just some kid who causes trouble wherever she goes. Just some stupid girl who needs a big, strong man to protect her!”
I winced. Wisp spun on her heel, all but running from the room, and for the first time in a long time, I felt true shame well in my chest.
“Wisp…” I protested helplessly, but she was already out the door.
I turned to see Gemma and Liam staring at me with what I presumed to be judgmental eyes. “What are you looking at?” I grouched, swiftly standing and trailing after her out the door.
Wisp was already in the truck by the time I reached it, huddled in the passenger seat. She was leaning against the door, as far away from me as she could get.
The sight of her curled up in a ball, arms crossed defensively over her legs and face hidden in her knees, made something in me break.
I slid stiffly into the driver’s seat and started the truck, wordlessly pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway. I wanted to say I was sorry, but the words were stuck somewhere in my throat. Truthfully, I hadn’t apologized in so long that I no longer knew how. I hadn’t wanted to before now.
I drove us back to the cabin – back home – in a loaded silence.
When we arrived, I shifted the truck into park before killing the engine and swallowing hard. “Hey,” I offered gruffly.
Not exactly what I was going for.
But it hardly mattered. Wisp had already whipped open her door and was half-way across the yard.
I squeezed the steering wheel in an attempt to reel in my frustration before throwing open my own door. “Hey!” I growled louder, stomping around the truck.
Wisp froze half-way up the porch steps, stiffly turning to face me. “What?” she croaked.
Horror flooded me.
“Are… are you crying?” I didn’t mean to sound so incredulous – she had every right to cry after the night she’d had – I just wasn’t prepared for the underlying sense of panic I would feel at the realization.
Especially because I suspected I was the cause of the waterworks.
“No,” she immediately denied, but her breath hitched on the word, and I knew it was a lie.
Before I could call her out on it, she was turning tail. She sprinted across the porch before opening the front door and slamming it shut behind her.
I stood frozen for a solid minute, unsure what to do, before sighing, dragging a hand wearily over my face. I hadn’t actually seen any tear tracks – it was impossible to see much of anything in the dark – but I knew.
And now I had to fix it.
Slowly climbing the steps, I cautiously opened the front door, but Wisp wasn’t in the living room. She wasn’t in the kitchen or bedroom either. It wasn’t like there was anywhere to hide in the cabin, though, so I followed the sound of her heartbeat to the only other place she could be. It helped that Thane was there, staring worriedly at the bathroom door.
“Shoo,” I muttered, kicking him out to the living room before hesitantly approaching the door.
Knock. Knock. “Wisp?”
She sniffled. “What do you want, Derek?”
I sighed, resting my head against the door with a quiet thunk. “To apologize,” I admitted lowly.
It was quiet for a minute before I heard her begin to shuffle her feet, and I quickly took a step back. Wisp opened the door, cautiously stepping out of the bathroom before shutting it behind her with a careful click. She leaned against the door, arms crossed rigidly over her chest.
“What for?” she asked, a challenge sparkling in her eyes. They were red-rimmed and watery, more proof of her tears.
I shifted uncomfortably. “For yelling. I was… out of line,” I admitted slowly, knowing the apology sounded stiff, but hoping Wisp sensed its sincerity.
She frowned, and I got the distinct impression she was unconvinced. “Anything else?” she pressed.
I wasn’t about to apologize for beating that guy to a pulp if that was what she was after.
Yeah, but what about the way you undoubtedly frightened her while you did it? Doling out death threats and smashing his face in with your fists? The man’s blood is still under your fingernails, for fuck’s sake.
“And for… scaring you,” I added tersely.
Her frown deepened. “You didn’t scare me,” Wisp dismissed.
What else could she want an apology for then? The only thing I could think of was the way I’d used her – imagined her – while I was with Blair. But there was no way she could know about that, and I wasn’t about to tell her, either.
Even if my violent outburst hadn’t scared her, that revelation certainly would.
Wisp seemed to pick up on my uncertainty and pressed her lips together in a thin line. “Fine,” she offered succinctly. “I accept your apology.”
But she refused to meet my eyes.
It was my turn to frown. I could feel the deeply ingrained wrinkles on my forehead form as I stared at her. “Okay?” I wasn’t sure whether it was a question, a request for assurance, or something else altogether.
Wisp didn’t seem to know either. “Okay,” she agreed nonetheless, parroting the word back at me.
But then she wrapped her arms around her middle like she was trying to draw comfort from them, and it wasn’t okay. Not even a little. Those should have been my arms around her.
“For Christ’s sake, come here.” I took a step towards her, but froze when she stiffened.
“No.”
Surprise, anger, and worst of all, hurt shot through me at the rejection. “No?” I repeated dumbly.
Wisp chewed nervously on her bottom lip, white teeth digging into the tender flesh there. “I know you needed it at the bar – contact with me, that is,” she added, a flush rising on her cheeks, “but it’s different now. And I think it would be best if we kept our distance.”
“How’s it different?” I demanded, trying desperately to remain calm even though on the inside I was fucking radiating tension. She was upset. I needed to comfort her.
“Because you’re better now: calmer, more controlled.”
I didn't think she’d be saying that if she knew about the animal pacing back and forth beneath my skin. “Besides,” she added so softly, I almost thought she’d finished talking, “I don’t think your girlfriend would like it.”
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “Girlfriend?”
“That… Blair person,” she clarified with a wave of her hand.
Wait.
If I didn't know better, I would say Wisp almost sounded… jealous. Like Blair was the reason she had wanted an apology earlier. But that was asinine.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I deadpanned, disturbed by the very thought.
Wisp frowned. “Fine, f-fuck buddies,” the swear word sounded downright ludicrous coming from her mouth, “or whatever you call yourselves then. I don’t think she’d approve,” she reiterated.
I snorted. “Blair’s a bitch, and I don’t care what she thinks.”
I think I had cussed more in a single evening than the entire two weeks since I’d found Wisp. It had been a… trying night to say the least.
Wisp was quiet, playing with the fringe of her shirt as she digested my words. “Then why’d you go upstairs with her and do… whatever you guys did together?” she asked carefully.
I tensed. I couldn’t explain to Wisp that she was driving me crazy with her sweet scent and even sweeter demeanor, that I had desperately needed some kind of release and did what I had to do in order not to jump her one night and refuse to let her leave my bed. So I deflected. “We didn’t do anything,” I said instead.
Wisp huffed, an unfamiliar expression crossing her face. “Right.” She sounded distinctly irritated.
“It’s the truth,” I insisted firmly, unable to stand the thought of Wisp thinking me a liar. “We kissed, but that’s it, and even then, it didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t even…”
I couldn’t even get my dick interested unless I was thinking of you, picturing you in her place.
Wisp frowned. “You couldn’t what?”
“I… I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more.”
She swallowed. “Why not?”
I sighed. “You know why.” It was soft and accusing all at once.
I couldn’t resist reaching forward and tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, but soon became distracted by the bruise already purpling on her arm. I could make out the shape of fingers. A few inches lower there was a speck of dried blood, probably a little nick from the shards of glass that had littered the bar floor.
I ran my thumb gently over the dot. “I should have killed him.”
Wisp’s face twisted, and then, like a dam suddenly breaking, there was a waterfall of tears bursting from her eyes. She leapt at me, throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing.
I only allowed myself a half-second to feel surprised before swiftly returning the embrace, tucking her head under my chin and wrapping my arms around her as I allowed her tears to dampen my shirt.
“Hey now, honey. It’s okay,” I crooned softly, hardly recognizing my own voice. “You’re okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, but I’ve got you now, and I promise to keep you safe always.”
I should have been embarrassed by the words – by the promises – leaving my mouth, but I inexplicably wasn’t.
“He called me that. He called me honey,” she choked out through her tears, as if of everything that asshole had done to her, that’s what bothered her the most.
I tensed, remembering what else he had said to her, the threats he had whispered in her ear, before forcing myself to relax. “I know. I know he did.” I took a breath. “Do you not want me to call you that anymore?”
“No!” Her response was swift, almost violent, in its intensity. “No,” she reiterated, slightly calmer. “It’s nice. I mean… I don’t mind when you do it.”
I nodded. “I’m going to move us to the bed, okay? It’s more comfortable.”
She bobbed her head in agreement against my chest, but still stiffened when I cupped her under the thighs. Lifting her, I crossed the room before sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. She remained in my lap, even closer to me than she’d been at the bar.
I could feel the press of her nose on the underside of my jaw and swallowed hard, forcing my dick not to react to the intimate position through sheer power of will.
Her grip around me finally began to loosen a few minutes later. “You’re hurt,” she whispered, tracing her fingers over my busted knuckles, softly stroking my fingers.
She sounded upset.
“It’s nothing” I deflected, and I should have tried to distract her. After all, the bruises would be gone by tomorrow. But her touch felt so good. I was jealous of my own damn fingers. Especially when she shyly interlaced them with hers and quietly rested her head back on my chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and I could hear the exhaustion in her voice.
I frowned, allowing myself to stroke her hair with my free hand. “What are you sorry for?”
A pause.
Wisp buried her face in my shirt, voice muffled as she admitted, “I don't know.”
My mouth twitched. “You should rest,” I said after a moment. “It’s been a long night.”
She nodded, but didn’t move to get up from my lap. After a minute had passed, however, she peered up at me with her wide, brown eyes, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Will you stay?”
I stiffened. It was an awful idea. Probably the worst one she’d ever had. And yet…
“Yeah,” I agreed gruffly. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
The sight of the stress lines around her eyes melting away, combined with the grateful smile she shot me, was worth it.
It took a few minutes to bury ourselves under the blankets and get comfortable. Ultimately, I ended up on my back, her head resting on my chest with my arm wrapped around her shoulders and hers looped around my middle.
I knew the exact moment she fell asleep, her breaths evening out and her heartbeat dropping to a steady rhythm beside me.
Her face was relaxed in sleep. With her mouth open just the slightest and her eyelashes casting shadows over her cheeks, she looked even more innocent (precious) than usual.
I couldn’t believe that I had ever tried to convince myself that I hated her.
I should have left right then. Despite my vow to stay, I should have gotten up from the bed as soon as she was asleep. I knew she wouldn’t hold it against me if she woke up to a cold, empty bed in the morning.
But the trouble was… I wanted to stay. Wisp was so warm – so soft – against me. I wanted to stay and watch over her, protect her, love her like she really was mine.
I caught myself reaching for her, wanting to brush some hair from her forehead, or even just run my fingers over the smooth skin of her bare arm. But I kept my hands where they were.
Because as much as I may have yearned for it, she wasn’t mine to touch so carelessly. She wasn’t mine to protect, or care for, or love.
She wasn’t mine. (That was what I hated.)