Her words faltered as she realized what would have occurred had Kingston not rescued her. What she risked with her own foolish, headstrong actions.
He had saved her.
Saved her.
“I fucking warned you about this. About the danger of roaming the halls without protection.” His words were harsh snarls punctuated by intense fury, but that little spark of fear still bloomed bright in his eyes. It could not be concealed. “Now do you understand why, Ava? Why you aren’t safe anywhere? Even from my own men?”
She did not answer as Jack and Paulie came racing down the corridor.
“Oh, shit,” Paulie breathed when he saw Malcolm in a non-responsive heap. “I think you might have killed him, Kingston.
“He attacked Ava.” Kingston turned back to Malcolm with an ice-cold sneer on his lips. A swift, well-placed kick to the man’s ribs resulted in an agonized groan. “And as you can see, the bastard is still alive.”
His attention returned to Ava, his gaze darkening like a gathering storm on the horizon. Roughly gentle fingertips skated over a tender spot high on Ava’s cheek. A bruise was already blooming there, and Malcolm’s blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
A muscle ticked in Kingston’s jaw.
“He struck you.”
There was no hiding the evidence of Malcolm’s actions. But a feather of pride unfurled in the pit of Ava’s stomach. She’d inflicted a bit of damage all on her own against her attacker.
“I bit him.” She spat again, desperate to remove the phantom memory of the other man’s fingers in her mouth. His tongue. His blood.
Kingston pulled her into a tight embrace. His large, warm body shielded hers from the other men’s gazes. With blood-streaked hands, he pulled the robe around her shoulders and closed it over her breasts.
She was shaking. Reality was catching up with her, and Kingston’s grip was one of steel. Ava knew he hovered on the edge of violence. Would he unleash it upon her next?
She shivered harder at the thought. Maybe she deserved his brand of punishment.
Jack knelt beside Malcom, checking his pulse with two fingers. “Should I call Neil to come back? I know he left for the city after dinner last night.”
“Neil’s presence is unnecessary.”
Paulie peered at Kingston, his lined face grim with awareness. “What do you want done with him?”
“North cell.” Kingston’s voice was cold, unattached. Like a bored king dealing with unruly subjects. “I’ll pay him a visit once I’ve taken care of Ava.”
ChapterTwenty-Five
My vow to you
Little lamb
Kington rakeda hand through his damp hair as he hustled Ava back down the hallway toward his suite of rooms.
He felt nothing for the man he’d nearly beaten to death. If anything, the blood in his veins surged and roared, demanding he waste no time in finishing the job.
Fucking Malcolm.
The man was ensconced in Oliver’s camp of supporters, always had been, and Kingston could only imagine the riches his brother had promised. He employed those men at his brother’s sullen insistence, but Kingston never trusted any of them.
Of course, there were very few he did trust. Malcolm definitely resided at the bottom of that list.
The bastard would pay for his actions. If he didn’t die before Kingston visited him down in the cells, his demise was imminent, regardless.
Striding down the corridors, their bare feet silent on the gleaming wood floors, Kingston reflected on the moment he realized Ava had imprisoned him inside his own bathroom. Once he’d broken through the flimsy barricade wedged against the bathroom door, Kingston immediately entered his private office.
Located in a separate, secured room inside the suite, the wall of cameras there provided the quickest way of locating his wayward little lamb. He knew precisely where she was in the maze of corridors and just who had cornered her.