Page 53 of Teach Me to Fly

If this is how I go, then so be it. The world is cruel enough, anyway. What’s one less person to fall victim to the tribulations of life?

But he suddenly eases the pressure of the sharp edge against my throat, eyes widening as an arm snakes its way around his neck. A second blade appears—sleek and black—and roughly presses against his cheek. He gasps and jerks back, earning himself a deep cut to his face.

He drops his knife, releasing me, and it clatters to the ground just before Reign slams the guy’s head into the brick wall with one smooth, brutal shove. I hear the crack of his skull before he drops to the ground, groaning as blood leaks from his head down his face.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, watching as his eyes roll back as he lies on the ground unmoving. “Is he dead?”

Reign pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and cleans his blade, pure rage reflected on his features. “Not yet.”

The other men scramble to their feet, eyes bloodshot and faces stained from the Farbgel Spray. The one I kicked is pressed against the wall, staring at his friend bleeding out on the ground, as he pees himself and bends his body sideways to vomit.

“Mate,” one of them shouts. “We’ve got to get him to the hospital!”

They rush over, pick him up, and run out of the alley screaming for help, not looking back at us once. And it’s only when they’re gone that I realize how fast my heart is racing. But one look at Reign has it ready to explode right out of my chest.

His angry eyes are silently watching me as he finishes wiping his knife clean, tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket. I don’t move from my spot, my back pressing against the cool brick behind me, as he takes two steps toward me and stops just a breath away.

He places one hand on the wall above me, leaning in closer. His scent is intoxicating, and instead of inching away when he places his own knife under my chin, I find myself incredibly turned on. He applies pressure, forcing my face up, and I’m positive he’s about to kiss me, but his eyes drift to my throbbing cheek and then down to the fresh cuts on my neck. His jaw pulses as he returns his eyes to mine, eyes flickering down to my lips only momentarily.

“I should’ve killed him,” he growls, his voice deathly low.

The words send a shiver straight down my spine as wild, uncontrollable butterflies detonate in my stomach. My throat tightens as I stare at him, at how angry he is for me. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling like he’s barely holding himself together. And I know that if I said the word, he’d go finish what he started.

“Why?” I breathe. “Why would you say that? Why did you even—” I swallow hard. “You don’t feel anything for me, Reign. You proved that when you disappeared. So why would you take such a risk?”

His eyes narrow as his jaw ticks.

“Do you really think I’d watch someone lay a finger on you and not want to rip them apart?” His voice dangerously low. “Anyone that hurts you doesn’t deserve to live.”

He lowers the knife, grazing the line of my throat, away from the cuts, with aching tenderness. I exhale sharply, my thighs pressing together, heat flooding my core like a traitor.

God, what’s wrong with me? This must be the alcohol, right?

His lips twitch like he’s trying not to smirk, gaze locked on mine, watching every flicker of heat that flashes across my face. His hand replaces the knife, warm and grounding against my skin, fingers sliding into the back of my hair, curling tight as he leans in, pressing his forehead to mine. And it hits me that this is the first time someone’s touched me like this since Alec, and I haven’t flinched. I haven’t pulled away or recoiled or frozen. I’m just letting him touch me and letting it feel good.

“Say the word, Angel,” he whispers. “Say the word, and I’ll make sure no one ever touches you again. Not unless it’s me.”

I don’t say anything, because how do I tell Reign Harrington that yes—being touched repulses me, makes my skin crawl… unless it’shim? How do I tell him I want his hands everywhere on me? That I want him to take control, to break me, to put me back together? How do I tell Reign Harrington that I want all of him?

But I don’t have to, because whatever he sees in my eyes has his mouth crashing into mine with reckless hunger, and I open for him like I’ve been waiting all my life. Something snaps into place, a feeling of trust, of safety, wrapping around us. I taste blood and desperation, and maybe thatshould scare me, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel alive.Hemakes me feel alive. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I want to feel something other than fear.

Chapter 18

Reign

My hand curls around Angelique’s as I lead her out of the alley and toward the restaurant. She’s too battered to go back in there, and I don’t want any of the staff to make her uncomfortable when they stare. Not to mention, I’m not in the mood to sit down at a table and eat dinner across from her after the kiss we just shared.

I knew the night would likely spiral from the moment she downed her first glass of wine but saving her from a group of drunk bastards in an alleyway and then kissing her on top of that was unexpected.

Gavin, our server from the restaurant, meets us outside with our food bagged to-go. He scans Angelique’s red, swollen cheek, along with the cuts on her neck, and his eyes bulge before he turns to look at me.

“Is everything all right, sir?” he asks, glancing at her once more.

“There was a group of men around this area only moments ago that assaulted Ms. Sinclair here. Please send any exterior camera footage you have of the men to thelocal police station and inform them they’re likely at a local hospital.”

His eyes go wide again. “Oh, and let them know that two of the men have been sprayed by Farbgel Spray so it should be easy to identify them,” I add, sliding him a five-hundred pound tip.

He nods and rushes back inside as I lead Angelique to my car, helping her climb in and buckling her seat belt. My hand intentionally brushes her arm, and when she doesn’t flinch away, I nearly groan from the relief.

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