Page 26 of Reckless Love

Mr. Covington kept a hand over my mouth as he used his other to paw at my hoodie, like he could forcibly rip it from my body. His fingers squeezed over my breast, and I cried out in pain, my eyes squeezing shut.

“Fucking cocktease,” he spat. “Gonna show you?—”

Mr. Covington was ripped away from me, there one second and gone the next. I lost my balance, dropping to my knees.

“Motherfucker,” Wick growled, standing between us like an avenging angel. He took a menacing step toward Mr. Covington, who tried to run away but was blocked by Marcel.

Movement to my right had me gasping and whirling, but it was Saul kneeling down to help me with his palms raised. “Are you okay, Mrs. Forrester?”

“She started it!” Mr. Covington shouted, pointing at me.

Marcel pushed him toward Wick as he rolled his eyes. “All yours, boss.”

Mr. Covington opened his mouth, put Wick’s fist shot out in a furious blur of movement. The audible sound of Wick’s fist connecting with my former boss’s jaw made me flinch. Mr. Covington dropped into the dirt and didn’t move.

“Oh, god,” I whimpered, letting Saul help me up. “Did you kill him?”

“No.” Wick sounded disappointed. “He’s just got a glass jaw. Fucking bitch. Call this in, Marcel.” He turned and moved to me, taking me from Saul and pulling me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Sia. I lost you for a minute when you entered the park?—”

“You followed me?” I peered up at him in stunned amazement.

His brow furrowed. “Of course I did.”

“You told me to leave,” I murmured.

His lips twitched. “I told you that you could leave. I never said I wouldn’t follow you. I never said I wouldn’t bring you back home. Because I will. Every time you leave, just know I’m coming, too.”

A crack opened up in my heart, threatening to split it wide open. “Why?”

With a soft breath, Wick leaned in and kissed my forehead, his touch almost reverent. “I haven’t been totally honest with you, wife, but if you’ll come home with me, I’d like to tell you some things. A lot of things.”

I laid my head against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart as I inhaled his musky scent. “Take me home, Wick.”

Eleven

Wick never put me down. Not when he slid us in the back of an SUV that seemed to appear by magic on the road that cut through the park. Not during the drive back to our building. Not when we arrived home.

Keeping me wrapped in his arms, he walked us from the car to the front doors. My face was still buried against his neck, my entire frame trembling from the adrenaline crash, but I felt him nod as Cliff murmured a greeting.

Then, almost hesitantly, Cliff asked, “Is there anything you need Mr. Forrester?”

“Not at the moment, but expect the police shortly. Please let me know when they arrive.” Wick’s tone was rough as he stalked across the floor to our elevator. He didn’t speak again until we were inside, the doors closed firmly behind us. “Sia.”

I sniffled in response, my fingers tightening around a fistful of his shirt that I clutched in my fingers.

“Sweetheart, I need to know if I should call for a doctor,” he murmured.

“I don’t think so,” I managed to choke out.

Wick’s muscles were pulled taut, his entire body coiled like it was ready to defend me again.

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to stop my mind from replaying the image of Wick’s fist hitting Mr. Covington. The sound of my boss—former boss—hitting the ground with a grunt before laying so still.

Fear twisted my insides into knots. Would Wick get in trouble? Would the police arrest him for assaulting Mr. Covington?

“Sia,” Wick started, his arms tightening around me as the elevator dinged our arrival at the penthouse. “Baby, you have to take slow breaths for me.”

I tried, but the air got stuck in my throat, never making it to my lungs.

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