Page 106 of Beat around the Bush
Without thinking, I threw open the door, seeing the man’s fist curled in her hair with her head tilted back as he stared down at her. The door slammed against the wall and he twisted, keeping his grip on her hair.
And then all I saw was red.
39
Oakley
JP spun me, pressing my back to his chest with his hand still tight in my hair, giving me no choice but to angle my head back to try to relieve the sting on my scalp. His other hand moved, and I felt a pinch at my side.
Lennon’s eyes flew to what I assumed was a knife pressed against me, and I wanted to cry at his pained expression. If I was stabbed… If I died…
“Move that hand any fucking closer to her and I swear to God, I will kill you,” Lennon gritted out.
“I don’t think you’re in the position to make threats right now,” JP retorted, and I wanted to kill him myself.
JP wanted me alive. At least, I hoped so. There wasn’t much love to be had from a corpse. So I had to use that to my advantage -that hopefully, if he did injure me, he wouldn’t do enough damage to kill me.
Using that information, I tried to feel where his arm was in coordination with my elbow, subtly moving my arm until I brushed his skin. If I could knock his arm away and possibly get him to lose the knife, I could get away from him.
“What do you want?” Lennon asked, though his hard tone gave the impression he had little he was willing to bargain.
“Her.” Nausea cramped my stomach and I wanted to throw up.
Lennon shook his head, malice practically dripping off him. “No can do.”
“You think you own her?” JP spit out.
Lennon looked at me when he spoke. “No oneownsher. My girl makes her decisions on her own, and it looks to me like she didn’t choose you.”
JP’s grip loosened the slightest bit at Lennon’s words, and I took that as my chance. I reared my elbow back, making contact with the bend in his arm. A sharp pain bit into my side, but I ignored it, focusing on getting away from him. Metal clanged on the ground, and I knew he’d dropped the knife.
Lennon was already moving before the knife fell, grabbing JP’s wrist and squeezing it hard enough that I heard a snap. JP yelled out in pain as his fist let go of my hair, and then Lennon had him slammed up against the wall, far away from me as I shrank back.
My scalp burned and the adrenaline of feeling trapped in this office with the fear that no one would come was coursing through my veins. My fingers trembled slightly as my back hit the wall behind me. I hadn’t realized my body needed the support to stand as I watched Lennon punch JP in the jaw.
His fist slammed into JP’s face over and over again, until blood was seeping out of his nose and mouth. Lennon’s other hand was clenched in JP’s hair, holding his head up. After a few more bone-shattering punches, he threw JP to the ground and turned to me.
I knew my fear was written all over my face. But it wasn’t fear of Lennon. I could never be scared of him. It was the past hour that wrecked me, how JP was acting like I was going to be his. He was obsessed with me and I should have seen it from the beginning. I should have told someone. Maybe that could have prevented this from happening.
Lennon crossed to me, cupping my face and examining every inch of me. “Fuck, Oakley. You’re bleeding.”
I didn’t care. I collapsed into him, needing his support. Needing his body against mine. He held me to his chest as my limbs shook, the adrenaline wearing off to let the panic set in. His hand fell to my side and pain shot through me.
I looked down, following his gaze. I was bleeding.A lot.
Footsteps sounded from the store and I tensed, but that only made the pain worse.
My mind went foggy, every noise around me muffled like I was underwater. A moment later, I was scooped up, and my head fell against a warm chest.
Lennon’s chest.
We were moving, but I couldn’t pinpoint where. The pain was too much. It felt like my side was torn in half, but it couldn’t be that bad, right?
Lennon’s movements were stiff but hurried, his grip gentle, and then cool night air wrapped around me as we must’ve left the building.
“She’s hurt,” Lennon called out.
Another voice spewed out words, but I couldn’t make them out through the fog in my head.
