Page 111 of Protected from Malice
To traumatize them. Leave them with nightmares they may never be free from. To steal something so sacred, so?—
No.
Not again. Never again.
I grab his shoulder in a vise-grip and spin him around, then shove him against the wall so hard it vibrates with the force of it. “You’re not going anywhere,” I growl. As I meet his gaze, I let him see the banked rage burning in my eyes. “Don’t bother trying to get away from me. It’s not going to happen.”
He blinks at me. Fear pales his skin. “What?” His eyes go wide. “What are you talking about?”
And now that I hear his voice, I can understand how easily Eden identified him. He has a deep southern drawl with a hint of gravel to it, but there’s an undertone of flat, Midwestern, too. Not a typical voice that you’d forget right away. I’d remember his voice, and I only just met him. For Eden, who’s been living with the memory for years… of course she would recognize him immediately.
I grab his right wrist and force it up, twisting it until he bleats in pain. Pinning his hand to the wall, I inspect his ring. A big, ostentatious ring with Greek letters on it, just as Eden said.
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” he demands, sounding more irritated than scared. “Are you some undercover security guard or something? I have permission to be here. I went to college with Matt?—”
“I don’t fucking care.” I get right in his face. “I don’t give a flying fuckwhoyou know.”
“What?” He’s indignant. Pompously offended in that cocky, rich boy way, just like Mandy’s ex was when I first confronted him. “Let me go. Now. Before I talk to Matt and have his dad fire?—”
“Stop talking.”
It’s so full of rage, he immediately goes silent.
“Listen to me, you piece of shit,” I continue, dropping my voice to a low, poisonous snarl. “Here’s what’s going to happen.You’re going to open your wallet and show me your license. Now.”
“Wha—”
“Shut up.You’re going to show me your license. Then you’re going to get the fuck out of this building. You’re going to tell your buddy you feel sick and want to leave. You’re not going to say anything about our conversation. Understand?”
He gives a token struggle to pull away, but I easily hold him still. Then I tighten my grip on his shoulder, digging my thumb into the fleshy part between the joints until he yelps.“Do you understand?”
“Why would I do that?” he asks, more quietly this time. “You have no right?—”
“Have no right?” My voice is liquid ice. “I know what you did to her.” I jerk my chin at the door behind me, where I know Eden’s hiding. “Iknow. And if you don’t want me to call the cops on you right now, you’ll give. Me. Your. Fucking. License.”
The remaining color in his face disappears. “Okay. Okay.” He fumbles for his wallet and yanks out his license, then hands it to me with trembling fingers. “Whatever she told you, man, it’s not true. And it’s her word?—”
“Don’t you fuckingdare.” The urge to snap his neck is so strong, it takes every bit of control to contain myself. “Stop talking. Now.”
I release him to take a picture of his license with my phone, idly wondering if he’ll just take off running. But he’s frozen, just staring at me in abject horror.
Once I’m done with his license, I shove it back at him. Then I snap a photo of his face as well. “Get out of here.”
He blinks at me again.
“Go,” I bark.“Now!”
With a yelp, he tears off down the hallway, glancing back at me a few times to check if I’m coming after him.
I wish I could.
Dammit, I wish I could.
But while I’d love to kill this man—Kurt Wilson, according to his license—now, it’s not the right place. Not the right time.
Does that mean it won’t happen? Fuck no. Just not here.
I watch him disappear into the stairwell and wait for the resounding clang of the metal door slamming shut behind him. Then I rush to the bathroom door and knock on it, calling out, “Eden, baby. I’m here. It’s safe. Can you let me in?”
