Page 57 of Fighting Fate

The asshole that from the bar. I told the bastard to stay away from her. I warned him I’d fuck him up if he ever touched Willow again…if he so much as looked in the direction of what’s mine. And Willow is mine—whether or not she trusts that, she is my girl. She was mine the instant I set my eyes on her.

“He doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

“He put his hands on you?” At the bite of my question, Willow freezes. I can see from the way her gaze is flicking between me and her clutched wrist that she’s deliberating whether to lie to me. “Answer me, Lo, and tell me the truth. Did he hurt you with his hands?”

“I was drunk, and he wasn’t exactly sober. We were arguing, and it got out of hand. I was pissed and drunk and—”

“And I don’t care if you went at him first. Nobody fucking touches you like that.” I round to her side of the bed and gently grasp her wrist as I sit on the edge. It’s red from where she’s been rubbing at it, but aside from that, it looks perfect as ever. “He hurt your wrist?”

“No. Not really. Peter turned up at the theatre today. When I was leaving, we had words, and he grabbed me, but it’s fine. He didn’t hurt me hurt me. I wasn’t expecting him there, and then he cornered me in the hallway. I guess…I guess I got alarmed by it. A bit.”

He didn’t hurt her hurt her, and she was just a little alarmed. What the fuck? Does she really think any of this is okay, or is she trying to shrug it off because of me? Either way, it’s not working, and that shit ain’t ever going to stick with me.

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Don’t put on a fucking front with me—I can see through it. I feel it in my gut, Willow.” My anger is overshadowing every coherent thought as I beat my fist to my chest because, damn, I need to do something. I can’t sit here and pretend that I don’t care or that it doesn’t matter. I’m not that guy. “Admit it. Say it how it is! It’s what we do with one another.”

The downturn of her eyes is pleading, desperately begging for me to let it go. “Rory…”

I can’t.What kind of man would I be if I shrug this off? How could I ever tell her I worship the ground she walks on if I let this go? How could I look her in the eyes knowing that I did nothing to protect her?

“Please?”

“You’re scared of him. He scared you today like he did at the bar that first night I found you with him.”

It was obvious he was bad news from the way she was cowering from him. And just like that night, my insides twist so tight with the urge to hammer the bastard that I can’t pretend I’m calm or easy anymore. I’m desperately trying to talk sense into myself because everything in me tells me to make good on my promise to destroy him if he ever went near her again.

“I told him to stay the fuck away from you. I warned him…”

“I know, he told me.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me earlier? I asked you if you were okay? I fucking stalked you to your sister’s house to make sure you were okay. You should’ve told me before!” I pause in front of the Juliet balcony overlooking the shared yard.

While I remain focused on the view of the city ahead, clenching the top of the glass balustrade, Willow joins me. She feels smaller than ever, and all I can do is scoop her into my side because I want her to know that I’m still here and it’s not her that I’m pissed at.

“I can’t let this go, babe. I can’t pretend he’s not a problem.”

“Even if he scares me, Peter’s my problem, Rory.”

“Wrong.” Pulling her between me and the balustrade, I turn her to face me. “He’s our problem.”

“I’m not going to risk my career over this. No one will touch me if I cause a stir with him…and he knows it. Peter knows he has the upper hand.”

“I’ll fucking break his upper fucking hand,” I grit out, crushing her body to the glass with mine.

“If you antagonise him, it’ll make it worse. Everything that I’ve worked hard for will…it’ll all have been for nothing.” Her hands press to my chest as the tears on her lashes roll down her temples. “I won’t let him touch me again.”

She’s fucking killing me here. My hands are being tied in every way. I want to protect her, but I can’t hurt her by doing it.

“If you touch him, Rory…are you really going to risk everything you’ve worked for because of me? Because of my stupid and terrible choices?”

“Yes.”

When she shakes her head, my chest squeezes around my insides in a vice grip that threatens to choke me. What she’s asking of me goes against every fibre of my nature.

“I can’t let you do that, and I sure as fuck won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly he’s fucked me. I need to handle this myself.”

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