Page 107 of The Bad Boy Rule

“You know, Lennon…” Chandler mumbles behind us, “If you ever get tired of fucking thehelp, I’ll be here. I can fuck you like the dirty, washed-up cock slut you are now. I should’ve taken what I was owed when I had the fucking chance.”

I don’t even fucking think as I drop her hand, spinning toward him.

I vaguely hear her calling my name as I storm over to him, vaguely notice her father stepping forward when I make it to him.

And then my fist is flying, my knuckles smashing into Chandler’s face so hard that his head whips to the side, and he staggers backward, clutching his nose, which I hope to fucking God I just broke.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t go down. He spits a stream of bloodied saliva near my feet and then charges at me, his arms hitting my waist as he tackles me to the ground with a grunt.

It takes nothing to flip him over until I’m straddling his torso, and this time, I hit him harder, my fist connecting with his cheekbone, blood pouring from the split skin.

Hearing him say that shit about the girl I love was too fucking far.

It’s not just the shit that he said but how he’s treated her, the shit that he’s done to hurt her.

Three hits in, my arms are grabbed by someone, and I’m wrenched off him, my chest heaving as they drag me away, leaving him on the floor, covered in blood and groaning.

“Saint, oh my God.” Lennon collides against me, her hands moving over my face, my head, my neck as she checks for injuries.

I force my eyes to hers. “I’m good, baby, I’m good. He didn’t even get a fucking hit on me.”

Because he’s a worthless pussy.

Out of my periphery, I see three police officers heading our way, and I exhale slowly. I knew it would happen, but it was well fucking worth it. Her gaze follows mine, and she draws the same conclusion.

When she looks back at me, there are tears welling in her eyes, and I fight against the security guards holding me back because I need to hold her. I need to wipe away the tears.

“Saint, I’m scared. I-I…”

I drop my forehead against hers. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, Golden Girl. I’ll gladly sit in a jail cell if it means that piece of shit got what he deserves.” Fuck, the insinuation in his words about what he should’ve done to her makes me blind with rage again.

I pull back and press a kiss to her lips before the security guard yanks me away from her, and I feel the cold bite of metal along my wrists as I’m handcuffed and my rights are read.

I don’t regret it.

Not a single fucking second.

Lennon follows closely behind the officer as he hauls me toward the exit, but before I let him pull me through the door, I turn to her father, who’s just as guilty, if not more, in all of this. “Unlike you, I willalwaysput your daughter first. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her. No line I wouldn’t cross. One day, she’s going to find out about all the fucked-up, disgusting shit you’ve done to get ahead, and you know who’s going to be there when she does?Me, motherfucker.”

FORTY-EIGHT

LENNON

It’s so cold in this concrete waiting room that my toes have gone numb and are beginning to turn purple in my Louboutins.

Hours have gone by since they booked Saint, and I’ve spent the majority of them crying so much that I’m fairly certain I have nothing left in me to cry. I tried to scrub the smeared mascara off my cheeks with a wet napkin in the bathroom, but it didn’t help much.

My eyes are swollen and puffy, my stomach twisted into a tight knot that has me nauseous. That and the fact that I can’t even remember the last time I ate. There are blisters on my feet from pacing the room while wearing stilettos, but I haven’t been able to sit still, overcome with worry.

I drop my head into my hands as another wave of tears threatens to spill when I hear the double doors jiggling. My eyes snap to the door, waiting on bated breath.

A second later, it opens, and Saint walks out of it. My entire body sags with relief, and this time, the tears that wet my cheeks aren’t like the ones that I’ve spent all night crying.

“Saint.” His name rushes from my lips as I run to him as fast as my feet can carry me on these heels, and I crash into him.My arms slip around his neck, and I squeeze so tightly that I’m actually worried I might hurt him. “I’ve been so worried. I’m… I’ve been going out of my mind…” I trail off when my throat gets too tight with emotion.

His hand runs along my hair as he presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m fine, baby. Are you okay?”

I can’t help it—a mixture of a sob and a laugh bubbles out of me, and he pulls back to look at me, smoothing back my hair from my face. “Hey, hey, talk to me.” His thumbs sweep along my cheeks, brushing away the tears as they fall.

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