Page 25 of The Inkslinger

“Crazy?” he yells. “Yes, you fucking bitch. My life has fallen apart since you left, and I am going to start getting shit back in order. Starting with bringing you to heal.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“You could have fooled me. Fucking that dirty tattoo boy like a bitch in heat.”

My fear takes a back seat to my rage. I am so tired of being afraid of this asshole. And I won’t have him bad-mouthing one of the best men I have ever met.

“You don’t know shit about Laine.”

“I’ve been watching you,” he says stepping closer, forcing me to retreat. “I saw him fuck you over the counter in the kitchen, and in the back seat of that fucking car you love so much.”

I feel dirty and violated, knowing Derick has been privy to some of our most intimate moments.

“I always knew you were a whore. But you hid it well,” he sneers at me. “Until he got his hands on you. You never fucked me with wild abandon or moaned like a porn star,” he continues to dissect my sex life. “And I saw you gush like a fucking waterfall for your new little fuck boy.”

“Derick,” I start but he cuts me off.

“No, Hailey. The time for talking has passed. You will do as I say. I will have you, or no one will.”

Too late, I realize I have backed myself into a corner with nowhere to go while he was talking. His hands circle my neck, cutting off my airflow as he squeezes harshly. My heartbeat accelerates as I scratch at his hands and try to claw at his face.

The world around me starts to fade, darkness closing in with alarming speed. My heart breaks when I think about what this will do to Laine. I want to scream but I can’t find the air to do anything.

It finally settles in that I am going to die in the next few moments. I feel like I am floating before I come crashing back to earth. My vision is blurry, but I can hear yelling in the distance. What the fuck is going on?

All at once, the last ten minutes come flooding back and I push myself back into the corner. I don’t know how I will defend myself against this psycho, but I will do whatever is necessary to survive.

My gaze scans down the hallway to where Damien and Alistair are trying to stop Laine from killing Derick. His hands are wrapped around Derick’s neck as he repeatedly slams his head against the floor.

“Fucking asshole!” he roars. “You’ll never touch her again!”

“Laine,” I say but it is nothing more than a croak.

“Laine,” I try again but he isn’t hearing me over his rage.

“Motherfucker!” he roars, bringing one of his elbows down in the center of Derick’s face, blood spraying everywhere.

I know I need to reach him before he kills my ex. If I don’t, I will lose him too. My legs are wobbly and refuse to carry my weight, so I do the next best thing. I crawl. On my hands and knees, I make my way over to the man I love.

Alistair finally pulls him off Derick just as a uniformed man bursts onto the scene. He takes in my disheveled appearance, as well as Derick and Laine.

“Laine. Stop,” he says loudly, finally getting Laine’s attention. “I have him. You need to take care of your woman.”

Laine’s gaze focuses on me, and he struggles with renewed strength to get to me. Alistair lets him go, and in an instant, he is on his knees in front of me. His gaze assesses me, tears rimming his soulful eyes.

“Doll,” he says brokenly. “I thought I lost you.” I can see the unshed tears shimmering in his hazel gaze.

I don’t have words. I simply fling myself at him. We stay locked together, me on his lap with his back against the wall as we watch the cops cart Derick away. The paramedics come and assess me. They wanted me to go to the hospital, but I wouldn’t move from my spot in Laine’s arms. After a long and arduous argument, they finally concede to leave me alone as long as Laine swears to bring me in the moment anything changes.

My throat hurts like I’ve been swallowing glass. but I couldn’t give a flying fuck. There are only three things that matter to me now.

I am alive.

Laine is safe.

Derick is gone.

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