Kian Page 18

One of the guys asked, “You know these two, Harold?”

Harold. I snorted. He looked like a Harold—old and stuffy with an ego that didn’t match his bank account.

Harold’s wife hissed at me, “You have a problem, little girl?”

I drew upright, slowly going to my fullest height.

“You’re nothing but a little girl who’s going to be a gone little girl.” Edmund’s sick taunt washed over me.

I started shaking.

This woman had no idea what she’d said, but I was right back there.

I was in the bedroom as Edmund started forward, but Kian was there. He stepped inside. I saw him, saw the complete calm over his face, and I couldn’t look away. His eyes were dead. A part of me knew that I should’ve been scared. I should’ve cowered, run away, but I didn’t. I stayed there, and I knew, somehow, that I would be safe. When Edmund realized someone else was in the room, it was too late.

For him.

The flashback ripped through me. The old fear crept up inside of me, mixing with the rage that was really directed at Edmund. I jerked forward, my nostrils flaring, and my hands were in fists. This woman and her husband had become Edmund to me. I wouldn’t take their disrespect. I had taken it for too long from him, and I never would again.

They were talking.

But all their voices faded to the distance.

I just heard their laughter. I saw the mocking looks on their faces. They thought they were above me. They thought I was dirt beneath them because that was how they treated people. They thought they could hurt me.

Never.

Again.

Then I was swinging. I was ready to take them on, all of them, but that one couple in particular. Suddenly, there was shouting, but I still couldn’t make out the words. They were moving away from me. Someone yelled out. Satisfaction surged through me. Good, I wanted them to be scared. I’d been scared for too long.

An arm was around my waist, and I was being picked up. Someone carried me away, and a hand started rubbing down my back. That someone, whoever was holding me, was trying to soothe me as we hurried away from the group at a fast clip. The group was almost running, coming after us.

I felt the tension from whoever was holding me. I reacted to it, going with him and slowly, the anger started to leave me. A buzzing sound dissipated in my head, and I became aware of my surroundings.

Jake was running down the sidewalk with an arm tucked around my waist. He kept an iron grip on me, and his other hand touched the top of my head, covering it every now and then. He ducked around groups and then into a building’s doorway. He dropped me but kept his hands on my waist. I felt them digging into me.

He was saying something to me.

The need to protect myself was still strong, and I stared up at him, unable to fully make out what he was saying. The buzzing was still there. I shook my head. I needed to let him know, but he shouted something and dug into my pockets. My phone fell out, but he pulled out my keys and started looking through all of them. He produced my building key and shoved it into the door. After unlocking it, he swept us both inside.

My phone was on the front stoop.

I couldn’t leave it there. Kian’s number was on there. Ducking from his hold, I darted outside. That was when I heard the shouts from the street.

“Where did they go?”

“That bitch was going to hurt my wife.”

They were in full pursuit. I couldn’t believe that.

Jake hauled me back inside and whirled both of us behind the door, so the group couldn’t see us. Just as he did, they ran past us. He clamped me to him, one arm firmly holding my head to his shoulder and the other on my waist. He wasn’t letting me go. I didn’t fight him. As everything began to register in me, I felt the fight starting to leave me, and I became exhausted.

What had I almost done?

I started to pull back, but he tugged me back against him. “Hold on.”

We heard outside the door, “Where did they go?”

Someone else answered, “Who knows? Bart and Harold are so far down. Even if they find those kids, what are they going to do? It’s not like we can hurt them. I suppose we can report her for what she tried to do. Attempted assault, right?”

“I’d like to scratch that little bitch. She was about to claw my eyes out.”

A woman laughed. “You looked like Casper. Honestly, Renee, I thought you were about to pee your stockings.”

The other woman laughed but hissed at the same time, “Shut it, Helen. That stuck-up girl works at Escape. Harold and I go in there sometimes.”

“Really?” The other woman sounded envious. “Man, oh man, I love that restaurant. We got in one time. My boss reserved the back room for a small holiday party. It was divine.”

“I know. I’m going to report this little shit. She’s going to lose her job, and Harold and I are going to get the star treatment. If they don’t, I’ll sue their establishment.”

I tensed against Jake, but he shook his head.

He mouthed down to me, Don’t.

I didn’t. What I was going to do, I had no idea, but I didn’t do it. I stayed in his arms, and I held my breath, still listening.

“Can you do that?”

“Why not? You saw her. She must’ve come from work. She still had on her employee badge.”

“Oh my God, Renee. If you follow through…well, at least take me with you.”

Both of them cracked up at that joke, and they moved on. We still waited, but we didn’t hear any others from their group for the next few minutes.

Jake slid his hand into mine and whispered into my ear, cupping the back of my head, “Follow me. We can slip into the stairs, and they still won’t see us.”

I nodded and let him pull me past the doorway and into the stairwell. If we had waited for the elevator, they could’ve seen us. We were in plain view of the glass doors, but I lived on the eighth floor, and I didn’t care about the climb.

Jake started to open the door on the second floor, and I shook my head.

“We can use the elevator here,” he said.

“I need the exercise. I have to calm down.”

He paused, studying me, and then shrugged. Letting go of the door, he fell in step behind me. “Okay.”

“You can use the elevator.”

“Nope. Where you go, I go.”

My throat swelled up, and I gripped the stair rail hard. I managed to get out, “Thank you.”

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