Page 168 of Meet Me In The Dark
“Watch your fucking mouth.” My voice cuts through the laughter. The sound dies instantly.
All eyes turn on me.
The guy who said it shifts under my stare, suddenly fascinated by his drink.
Kingsley tries to recover, clapping me on the back, his laugh too loud, too forced. “Come on, Blackwood. We’re just having a bit of fun.”
I should walk away. That’s the smart move. Celeste would tell me to walk.
But the stupid fucker goes and opens his mouth. “Lighten up. I’ll take care of her. She won’t be the first one I’ve had over my desk.”
The room goes white.
I don’t remember dropping my glass. I just remember the feeling of my fist connecting with his jaw. He stumbles into the bar and falls to the floor as glasses shatter around him.
Crouching, I grab him by the collar and yank him so close I can smell his drink on his breath.
“You ever talk about her again, you slimy piece of shit, and I’ll make sure you don’t have a desk to fuckanyone over. She’s not yours to speak about. She’s not yours to imagine. She’s not yours. Period.”
The fear in his eyes only fuels my fire.
I lean in just enough for my voice to cut straight through him. “You so much asthinkher name again, Kingsley, and I will end you in a way money can’t fix. You won’t lose your business. You’ll lose your footing in every room you walk into. Every handshake will dry up. Every deal will fall through. You’ll wake up one morning and realize you’re fucking invisible, and it’ll be because of me.”
His throat bobs, but he doesn’t speak.
“Celeste doesn’t work for you, she doesn’t answer to you, and she sure as fuck doesn’t exist for you to picture bent over your desk. If you want a fantasy, pick a different woman. Because the one you just talked about?” I pause, let my eyes lock on his, unblinking. “She’s mine, and I protect what’s mine.”
I release his collar.
Glasses clink. Someone gasps. No one moves to help him.
I stand and straighten my jacket.
At the edge of the crowd, I glance back at Kingsley just once. “Remember tonight,” I tell him. “It’s the only warning you’ll get.”
Fifty-Five
The apartment is dark and quiet, except for the low hum of the refrigerator. I toe my shoes off by the door, let my jacket hang over the back of a chair, and head straight for her bedroom.
The soft rise and fall of her breathing pulls me in before I even see her.
She’s curled on her side, hair spilling across the pillow, one bare leg hooked out from under the sheets. Her tank top has slipped down just enough to show me the top swell of her breast.
Fuck.
I stand there for a second, taking her in. She’s a deep sleeper, and when she’s this peaceful it feels almost criminal to disturb her.
Almost.
But my need for her is a sickness I’ll never want cured.
I slip onto the bed behind her, the mattress dipping under my weight. She stirs just enough to mumble my name.
“I gave you that key so you would stop waking me by pounding at my door after midnight,” she whispers, a sleepy smile spreading across her lips. “Yet here you are, still waking me.”
“I need to tell you something.”
Her eyes finally open, and they pull me in like they always do as she searches my face. I see the smart remark forming on her tongue, but I don’t let it out.
