Page 87 of Demons

The side of her face was already swelling, blood was pouring from her nose, and tears were trickling from the corners of her eyes.

“Jesus Christ!” I heard King’s voice and snapped out of the shocked daze I’d been in.

Thatcher grabbed her hair, and I reacted, rushing to him and grabbing his arm.

“NO! STOP!” I screamed, pulling on him.

He’d already lifted her off the ground by her hair when his eyes swung to me. That was bad. The feral, unhinged Thatcher was there, staring out of those dark pools.

“Let her go. Please. I am begging you. She’s a woman.” I spoke calmly.

He was breathing heavy as his eyes scanned my face. What was he looking for? Then, I heard her body hit the ground and a cry come from below.

“Get her out of here now!” King told someone.

I didn’t look to see who King was speaking to, but I was real thankful King was here.

I placed a hand on Thatcher’s chest. “Calm down.” I hoped that worked.

This was disturbing. He’d just hit a woman. I was trying to process that. How had he just whacked her across her face like that? She was a female. What if he’d broken her nose? Or cracked her teeth? Oh God, what if the cops came back?

“Capri, step back some,” King said behind me.

Thatcher grabbed me and pulled me against his chest, locking me in so tightly that it was hard to breathe. “No,” he snarled, sounding unlike his normal angry voice. This one was … not okay.

I couldn’t see anything but his shirt that he’d pressed my face against. King was still there though. I hadn’t heard him walk away.

“Thatcher, you’ve got her too tight. Can she breathe?” King asked.

Thatcher’s hold immediately eased, but his arms were still like steel bars around me. I sucked in a deep breath.

His heart was hammering against my ear. I needed to get him alone and snap him out of whatever this was. Telling King that with my face smooshed against Thatcher’s chest was hard to do though.

“Why don’t you let her go?” King suggested.

His body flinched. “No,” he replied in a deep, gravelly voice.

Then, he scooped me up and began stalking away from the stables. The veins in his neck stood out, and his jaw was so rigid that I was afraid he was going to crack a tooth.

I reached up and touched it. “Thatcher,” I said softly.

He inhaled sharply, then let it out slowly before dropping his gaze to mine. Damage. So much damage in those depths. How did I handle this? Him? He had hurt a woman over me. She’d simply said words, and he’d have kept hurting her if I hadn’t stopped him. If she had been a man, would he have … killed him?

I swallowed, realization hitting me. He had meant that. It wasn’t a threat. He’d meant it. He would kill anyone who he felt hurt me. This wasn’t going to be okay. People would say things to me. I would get hurt at some point. Thatcher couldn’t end them over it. He’d be in prison. On death row.

My stomach turned. What was I supposed to do? What if Ruby charged him with battery? My eyes burned, and bile rose in my throat. I couldn’t let him ruin his life, protecting me.

He stopped walking, his eyebrows drawing together as he studied me. He read me too well. I needed to mask the turmoil going on inside me, but I couldn’t. I was barely keeping myself together.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“Of me?” he asked, sounding pained.

I shook my head. “No, for you. She could file assault and battery charges. You could go to jail.” A sob escaped me as tears filled my eyes. Saying it out loud was worse than thinking it. Now, it was real.

“Don’t cry,” he said, sounding almost panicked.

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