“Get your fucking hands off her,” Bishop roars, and a gunshot rings out again, scaring the absolute shit out of me, but Alexander’s hold still braces me to him as he continues to kiss me.
Buy me ten minutes.
We don’t have that luxury, not now. It takes another split second for a trigger to be pulled, and I can’t and won’t be able to live without Bishop. I’ve already made so many mistakes.
I’m the reason why he’s here.
With all my might, I slam a fist into Alexander’s gut, getting him to immediately release me. With two steps, I allow enough space between us and still have eyes on the other three men in the room.
And Bishop on his knees, blood seeping through his dark jeans.
“Emmy,” Alexander growls with disappointment, forcing my attention back to him. “The sooner you forgive me, the better it’s going to be for everyone.”
I have two options; both I despise.
One, I can attempt to fight off the dudes in the room who easily have five-plus inches on me and definitely more muscle mass.
Or, two, I can make a run for the front door of my apartment and pray to God I can get Kyson and Mills in here.
One isn’t looking too hot.
And two means I’m leaving Bishop behind for God knows what to happen.
However, I have a blunt idea that Alexander wants to use him as an example, and he’ll kill Bishop in front of me to make sure his lesson burns in my brain.
So, I pivot on plan three that just barrelled into my head.
Make it look like you don't give a shit and get Alexander far enough away to take him down without help.
I sprint towards the door and twist the knob, yanking it back so fiercely that it bangs into my TV and knocks it over.
But I didn’t expect the two dudes standing outside my place, boring daggers into my face at my hopeless attempt.
“Maybe you don’t love him,” Alexander hedges behind me. “Interesting.”
The moment his words leave his mouth, cold metal wraps around my wrist when one of the men captures my other.
“Secure him,” Alexander orders before spinning me and guides me back to where we were standing before.
In perfect view of Bishop and the middle of the room.
I glance over my shoulder, but Alexander palms my jaw, keeping the pressure off but my eyes on him.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“Yes, you are,” I reply, not bothering to hide the shake in my voice. He’s going to kill Bishop no matter what I do just to make sure he’s not an option for me.
“I promise,” Alexander says over my lips. “You’re my queen. I want to treat you like it.”
Just himthinkingthat I’m dumb enough to believe him is insulting.
“How?” His other hand breaks into the waistband of my leggings again, and I think I’m going to puke all over him from how tight my stomach is knotting.
One of his fingers finds my clit, and he slowly begins to stroke it in a circle. “I want to worship you. We’ll draw lines and rules. We have to communicate better.”
Fuck this asshole.
But I bob my head slowly like I’m listening and what I hear is Bishop not saying a fucking word.