Page 55 of The Heir

“Don’t walk away from me, Marchella.” He stepped through the rubble, and even if my pride wanted to run, my feet obeyed him.

He grabbed my arm and forced me to face him. His hands captured my cheeks and brushed away tears that I hadn’t realized I was spilling.

“I didn’t show her my dick, I took a piss in an alley, and she came up like it was some kind of free show. I didn’t invite her. I didn’t even know she was there. I thought she was with May.”

The panic in his voice was palpable, and his hazel eyes searched my face.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me–” I started.

His mouth collided with mine, and I tried to pull away from him, but his fingers tangled in my hair and his lips firmly made theirdemands until I started to kiss him back. When I was breathless, he pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.

“Was that a lie?” He panted.

He forced my hand over his chest and kissed me again, fisting my hair like he never meant to let me go, “Tell me what I feel for you is a lie, Marchella. Say it, and I’ll let you go–”

I couldn’t breathe. I was scared to trust him, but if I was honest, I was scared of trusting or letting anyone in.

“I believe you,” I whispered, just as he collided with me like my brothers used to when we played football as kids.

I flew. He flew. I landed on my back with him sprawled on top of me and his entire face registered with shock.

“Don’t move!” a voice boomed, and I realized several people were rushing toward us.

“Blaze Aviston, you’re under arrest for violation of a house arrest order, destruction of property, and battery.”

“Marchella! Marchella, honey, get up.” Aunt Carly’s loud voice somehow spoke over the police. “Get him off of her!”

“No. No, it’s fine. He’s not. He’s not hurting me. No, I’m his girlfriend,” I blurted out.

My father was leaning against a piece of fence that was still standing intact, a smirk staining his stubbled features while he watched them wrestle Blaze to the squad car.

“‘His girlfriend.’” Aunt Carly repeated, staring down at me with unmasked disgust.

“It’s a long story.” It felt long, it really wasn’t.

“Yeah,” she quipped before turning back toward the facility.

“Listen, I don’t want any charges pressed against him.” I told the female officer, who was trying to encourage me away from the crowd.

“We understand,” she assured, with a slow nod. “These things happen. Tempers flare.”

“No. We weren’t fighting.” I tried to explain, only to pause when she looked back at the fence and fixed her attention on me again.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my voice cracking when I saw them pulling away with Blaze in the backseat.

“Why don’t you come down to the station with me and we can talk there,” she encouraged.

“I need to get back to work.”

“Ma’am, you were just assaulted. I know you haven’t come to terms with that, yet—” the officer began.

“Do you? Is that what you know?” I lashed out at her, my voice climbing.

My father was there in an instant, shushing me and wrapping me in his arms.

“Excuse me, Sir.” The officer grabbed at his shoulder since he’d given her his back and inserted himself between us.

“Fuck off,” he growled.

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