Chapter 8
His Angel
Kian
He thought he’d known rage before. He was wrong. Dead wrong. Rage didn’t even begin to describe what he felt when he burst into his neighbor’s house, the woman who looked and smelt like an angel, and saw what was happening to her.
Years of training kicked in. Instinct took over. He strode forward in a black rage, his vision honed in on the scumbag who’d just dealt a blow to his angel.
The minute his hand closed around the guy’s shirt, Kian was the definition of apeshit. He hadn’t lost it in a while. In a very long while, and damn… it felt good to take out his righteous anger on the piece of shit in front of him.
He tugged the offender away, reached back and slammed his fist into the guy’s face to subdue him. He hit again, breaking the guy’s nose, smattering blood over the walls and floor. And what do you know, Mr. Tough turned into a pile of whining, crying, much.
Blood actually satisfied a little of the rage burning inside Kian. He wasn’t one of those guys that lusted for more once he drew it.
“Not so tough when you’re the one on the receiving end, are you?” Kian growled. He drew back his fist and the guy, whining and blubbering, covered his face. He was actually fucking crying. Kian was absolutely disgusted. “Get out. Get the fuck out and don’t ever think about coming back here, you understand? Oh, and apologize to the lady.”
The man just kept sobbing away, muttering something about his nose, his broken nose. It was pretty clear he had no intention of apologizing.
Kian had little choice but to haul the guy up by his bloodstained shirt. He was dressed like he was going to a damn wedding. Kian knew his type. The type who paraded around in suits and fancy cars, who lived for the thrill of making money and spending it, who lived to impress all those around them. They lived a big life and talked big, but on the inside they were small and rotten, shriveled up and mean. Essentially the pile of shit in front of him was nothing more than an adult version of the schoolyard bully.
“I said, apologize!” He thrust the guy out in front of him easily, in front of his angel, who sat with her back braced against the walls, huge blue eyes wide with terror. A huge welt was already forming on her forehead and her cheekbone under her left eye was swollen, the bruise already darkening to an angry purple black.
The guy blubbered something that passed for sorry. Kian didn’t trust him to get out on his own so he gave him a helping hand. He half dragged, half carried the pathetic excuse out the front door. He didn’t care if he was about to make a scene. So be it.
“Which one is yours?” he growled. He shook the guy when he didn’t answer. His eyes scanned the lot, landing on the black sports car parked near the entrance. The back tire was on the sidewalk. “Of course. That one.” He started off in the direction of the car, picking up steam. The guy was pulled along, begging and pleading, his pathetic sounding voice echoing through the parking lot. “Shut up.” Kian jerked him roughly.
Thankfully the car wasn’t far. He reached it, flung open the driver door and shoved his burden into the seat.
“I meant what I said. Don’t think about coming back. You’re a piece of shit. Only a weak man hits a woman, a pathetic man.”
“But… but…”
“There is no excuse in the world that will excuse you for what you just put her through. If I’m going to hazard a guess, it isn’t the first time. Don’t think about pressing charges for your fucking nose either or I’ll find you and break it again. I don’t know where you live, but she does. Remember that I’m in the picture now, motherfucker. You mess with her, you get me. Understand?”
“Yes,” the guy wailed. The blood streaming from his nose was finally beginning to congeal. It wasn’t at all satisfying so Kian reached in and gripped it hard. He didn’t have to twist to elicit a scream of pain. The blood started flowing again after that, dripping all over the black leather interior.
Better. Much better.
“You stay away from her, you hear me? You got off easy today, but I’m not going to go easy next time I catch you. You make any excuse to see her, hurt her, talk to her, anything to do with that woman in there and you’re going to be a bloody pulp when I find out. Got it?”
“Yah, yah, I got it.” The voice was so high pitched that Kian actually laughed. It was a sick sounding chuckle, mirthless and a little terrifying, even to himself. He never used to enjoy doing physical harm this much. It frightened him how good it felt, how much of a release it was.
Although this was different. This wasn’t some drug dealer fighting back. It wasn’t someone being belligerent or trying to escape arrest. This guy was a woman beater. He’d dared to lay a hand on someone delicate, fragile, weaker than himself.
The enjoyment lay in teaching the weasel a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget, in freeing his neighbor from this guy’s wretched presence. He’d never seen him around before. Never heard a fight like he’d heard through the thin wall that adjoined their condo together. Either he hadn’t been home when it happened or the guy showed up out of nowhere, likely uninvited.
He’d bet on the latter. Years of training and one quick glance at the guy’s left hand gave him one guess as to who the scumbag was. Some kind of ex. Ex-boyfriend, ex-fiancé, ex-husband. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to be in the picture any longer.
“Put your car in drive and get out of here. Out of this city. Out of this State. Get yourself far away before I decide to get on my bike and track you down just to make sure you understood.
The guy nodded frantically. He managed to push start the car and put it in gear. It was an automatic. Of course it was an automatic. Everything about the loser in front of him screamed fake. He couldn’t even drive a real sports car.
Kian backed up and slammed the door shut. He punched the metal hard, for good measure, but also because it felt so damn good to smash his fist into something that fought back just a little.
The guy stomped the gas pedal and roared off down the street. He nearly lost control of the car and had to swerve to avoid a car parked along the edge of the sidewalk.
Kian shook his head slowly. He hoped the damn guy didn’t kill anyone getting to wherever he was going. He had a feeling that wasn’t Miami. The guy was too pale to have been from around here. He looked like he never saw the sun.
He started the slow walk back to his neighbor’s condo. God, I don’t even know what her name is.
He ducked back inside and shut the door, well aware that people around the complex were probably staring, probably taking note that he went inside. He hoped no one called the cops. He’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.