Page 93 of Teach Me to Fly

Chapter 33

Reign

Iwait across the street from the police station, tucked into the shadow between two buildings, hood up, black baseball cap low over my eyes. My head is down, and my hands are in the pockets of my coat. I’ve been standing here for forty-two minutes while the cold crept in, but I don’t feel it. All I feel is the steady pulse behind my eyes, like a countdown.

Angelique’s safe back at the guesthouse. Lando’s with her, thank fuck, and he’s good at distracting. My phone buzzes in my palm and when I glance at the screen and see Terry’s name blinking up at me, I answer it.

“What?” I growl.

“What’s the verdict?” he asks, unfazed by my grouchiness. “You think she’ll be ready?”

“Too early to say,” I mutter, eyes still on the front doors. “She’s been through hell. She can barely get through the day without shutting down, let alone stand in front of an audience.”

There’s a pause.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “Makes sense. I’ll hold rehearsalsand shuffle the order to give her a few more days to breathe.”

“Give her a week,” I correct. “I’ll have a better answer by then.”

“Alright.” Another pause. “Are you okay?”

The doors of the station slide open, and Alec strolls out wearing a smug fucking smile, his nose bandaged after I broke it last night. I grind my teeth; guess I’ll just have to break it some more until he can’t fucking smile at all. He walks easily, not even a limp to show for what happened outside of Imperium.

Time to change that.

I hang up on Terry without another word and watch as Alec crosses the street. According to detective Powell, because the rape happened in the U.S., British police couldn’t touch him on that. All they could do was charge him for public indecency and attempted sexual assault. Wendy’s video got him in the door, but not in the cell. And even that was reduced to a warning.

A warning. That’s all he got for all the pain he’s caused.

The justice system is a joke, so here I am, about to give him my version of a warning. As much as I want to kill the bastard, that would be too easy. I want him alive for what I’m about to do. And I’ll be sure he feels it every single day for the rest of his life. Because after tonight, Alec will never dance again.

It’s the least he deserves after everything he put my Angel through.

I slip out of the shadows and follow him as he turns off the main road, heading down a narrow pedestrian path between two buildings—construction fencing on one side, graffiti-covered brick on the other. It’s quiet and empty; no witnesses to see what I’m about to do.

Stupid bastard.

He doesn’t hear me until I’m right behind him. “Hey, dickface.”

He turns, just in time to see my fist slam into his nose. The hit sends him staggering back, sunglasses flying off his head, blood spurting from his nose as he catches himself on the wall, crying out in pain.

His eyes find mine and go round when he realizes it’s me. “Reign!?”

Another punch—harder—this one to the gut. He doubles over with a grunt, wheezing, so I grab him by the collar and slam him into the brick wall behind him, his head cracking against it.

“Didn’t think I’d let you just walk away, did you?” I hiss.

His eyes go wide. “Reign—Reign buddy, don’t—fuck, you don’t want to do this?—”

“I do,” I admit, unable to hold back the laugh that bubbles out of me. “I’ve wanted to since the day I heard her scream your name in her sleep, begging you to stop.”

I let go just long enough for him to scramble back, and then I kick his leg out from under him. He crumples to the ground, hands out in front of him.

“Please,” he whimpers, voice cracking. “Please, man?—”

I don’t stop as I lift my foot and bring it down on his knee. The crack is immediate and his scream echoes down the alley, high and shrill. He rolls to his side, clutching his leg, sobbing, and I crouch beside him, grab his collar again, and force him to look at me.

“One more,” I growl. “To match the other.”

---