Page 322 of Bride of Choice

Don’t let it touch me, I kept thinking. Don’t let it get me.

Strong arms wrapped around me. A deep voice cut in on the chaos, slicing through it as my arms were pinned to my chest and I was bodily dragged away.

I’d stopped screaming but I was panting now, breathless, crying and shaking uncontrollably.

“What the fuck,” I panted out, over and over, stunned stupid beyond belief.

“It okay,” he crooned over and over. “Okay now, my Jojoknee. Okay now. Rek has. Him no hurt. No Krampus. No hurt. Jojo ‘kay now.”

Rek didn’t let go until I relinquished my hold on the bloodied rag covered mug in my hand. Letting it go, it was like my body finally gave out. With a pitiful noise, I sagged against him.

I’d have tumbled to the ground as all that adrenaline left me, leaving me feeling drained and nauseated, if he hadn’t held onto me.

My assailant or, well, victim of his own stupidity at this point, stood gaping down at me, huddled near the muddy clumps of snow and mug, clutching at his face. I, uh, mighta broken some of, erm, all of that. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I sputtered. My voice quavered, cracking as I spoke.

“No breathe through nose! Save Jo from bad Krampus, this what Jo do?!” the male I recognized as the penis statue wielding moron from Daisy’s garden party squawked. What was his name? Vigor? Vigo? Vigler? I couldn’t recall. Fuck twat. That’s what I was gonna call him, regardless.

“You mean that fake Krampus that popped up when I freaked?” I growled.

His well, shit face literally said it fucking all.

“You have gotta be fucking kidding me!” I exploded, glad I was too tired to murder him in cold blood. Too messy. Too many witnesses. Too much garden work to get rid of the rest of him once I was done. Who honestly has the time, really?

Just now recalling someone still had their arms around me, did it finally sink in just who was holding me, crouching as they cradled me in their arms. With a sputtering gasp, I jerked free of Rek’s hold to stand on wobbly legs. “Don’t touch me!”

Rek stood up along with me, slowly raising his arms to show me he wasn’t going to try anything. “Jo ‘kay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

“Is Jo ‘kay? Is Jo ‘kay?!! No, Jo is not ‘kay!” I spat the words at him. “The fact that you think you can just show up and act the hero all of a sudden, is just… mind fucking blowing baffling! Am I okay… Are YOU okay? Huh? Are you? Because to me, you’re- You’re just… You’re fucking mental if you think I ever want to see your fucking face again, let alone have you touch me!”

“Rek?” his diminutive little pixie of a mate called out for him.

Because of course she was fucking right here!

Rek growled, like he was pissed at her hunting him down, yet again.

Nabbing up my cloth wrapped bundle from the ground, I winced but forced back the hiss on my lips as glass jabbed into my hand.

Holding out my hand for him to hand over the other one, ignoring the whining asshole at my back that was so going to get a beat down when I told my mates what he’d done to me, thinking what? That I’d want him to take me on thinking he’d keep me safe from whatever dummy he’d talked into being his fake Krampus? Revenge for not wanting him? Whatever it was, there was no excuse! This stunt… it was some sick, twisted shit!

Rek hesitated to hand it over. “Why smell blood?” he rumbled out hesitantly.

Jerking my chin to the mess of a beast behind me, I gave him a duh stare.

Rek’s gaze unerringly flew to my ring. “Jojo- Jojoknee looked beautiful, dancing at wedded day.” His throat worked like he was fighting past emotions. Emotions that were his fucking problem and not mine.

“Yeah, I was. It was fucking magical. So were my mates. So, yeah, awesome for not letting me kill dummy over there. My mates will love that you let him live, for now. Now give me my shit,” I snapped at him.

“You bleed!” Rek grabbed my hand, spying my red stained palm.

Shit. I was really bleeding. Like, a lot.

Ignoring the male whining about his face off behind me, and Rek’s mate calling for him, he dragged me inside my hut and slammed and locked the door shut behind us.

My gaze stuck on the door. “My mates won’t like this,” I pointed out woodenly.

All that red stuff seepin’ outta me, it was muddlin’ my brain. A fit of the whoozies hit me.

“Jojo mates not like Jojo bleed to death,” he growled out softly, walking me over to the table to grab a clean cloth and swap it out for the bloodied-mug one.

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