Page 110 of Brutal King

Determined to find Gavin myself, I go for the door. Before I can grab the handle, there’s a small knock.

I open it and gasp, “Gideon!”

He’s standing there, looking worse than I’ve ever seen him— his nose swollen, both eyes bruised and several cuts on his face.

Somehow, he still manages to give me one of his wolfish grins. “Hello, Little Bird.”

“You’re back!” I throw myself on him and he grunts.

However, when I try to pull back, his arms come around me and hold me tightly against him. “Don’t.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Just a bit.”

“Who did this? What happened? You didn’t call me for two fucking days!”

“I’m sorry.” He goes to the couch and I get him a pack of ice from the kitchenette. I sit beside him, but he tugs me onto his lap.

“What happened, Gideon?” I touch the ice to the most swollen part of his face.

“Scarlet.”

My cheeks burn with sudden rage. “She did this?”

“No. She’s the reason this happened.” He touches me softly, his fingertips tracing every bit of my skin that’s exposed. I’d grown so accustomed to his constant contact, I didn’t notice it anymore. Until I didn’t have it, that is. Now, I lean into it with relief that it’s finally back.

“Are you going to make me pry the story out of you?” I ask.

“Sorry. I’m tired.” He inhales deeply and lets his breath out slowly. “She and Gunner Sinclair have run off together.”

I laugh, but it dies off almost immediately when I realize he’s telling the truth. “Oh. And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course not. But I’m not their biggest problem. It’s your brother. He likes their union even less than I do.”

“What are you saying?”

“They came to me seeking asylum. He tracked them to my penthouse in New York. I had to do something to buy them time to escape.”

“Luca did this to you?”

He nods. “Well, he had help.”

I stare at him, processing what he’s just said. He turned himself in for them. Risked his life so that they can have one.

My throat tightens as I realize just how close he came to dying. “Luca could have killed you.”

His lips tug upwards and he smirks.

“What?” I ask.

“This is the first time you worried about me. Usually you only care if I hurthim.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t.”

“And you trust me now?”

“Yes,” I reply honestly.

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