Page 58 of Lust Hate Love (Fallen Angel 4)

And yeah, suddenly I didn’t give a flying fuck.

Letting go of Viper, I reached out, grabbed a fistful of Jonny’s black shirt, and hauled him in until we were practically nose to nose.

“I tried…” I said, my anger over the last couple days bubbling up inside me, along with a healthy dose of frustration that I had somehow wound up lumping myself in the same category as this piece of shit in Levi’s eyes. “I tried to just shut my mouth while you ran yours, but you know what? Fuck you, Jonny.” I twisted my fist in his shirt, knowing I should do anything but. We were in public, there were people with phones, and this shit was about to get out of hand. “If I ever hear you say Levi’s name to me, in passing, to anyone ever again? I’ll make sure it’s the last fucking thing you ever say. Do you hear me?”

Jonny reached up and shoved at my shoulders in an attempt to free himself. But my grip was too tight, my anger too raw, and there was no way in hell I was letting this motherfucker go until he acknowledged what I’d just said.

“Huh, looks like some habits are harder to break than others. Tell me, Killian,” Jonny said with a twisted kind of grin. “Did Levi tell you he has a thing for bassists before or after he fucked you?”

My body vibrated and my blood began to boil, but it wasn’t until Jonny added, “I assume that’s why you’re so pissed off right now. Because I had him first,” that I reached my breaking point.

My fist slammed into Jonny’s jaw before I even realized what I was doing.

He flew back into a table, bottles and drinks going everywhere and the table’s occupants yelling and leaping to their feet. Before Jonny could lift himself up, I grabbed hold of his shirt again as my arm reared back. This time, though, someone stopped me, their grasp on my arm strong enough to pull me off.

Viper.

“Let me go.” I grunted and struggled against his hold, but he wasn’t having it, jerking me back from Jonny.

“He’s not worth it, man. He’s not fucking worth it.”

Like he could talk. Viper would punch a wall if he slammed into it, and had on more than one occasion, causing Levi to run damage control.

Fuck. Levi.

Even with everything in my vision tinted red, as soon as Levi’s face popped into my mind, I stopped fighting and let Viper walk me back to the bar.

There was no telling if anyone got a picture or a video, if there’d be any fallout from giving Jonny what he deserved, but I did know that whatever happened, Levi would have to deal with it. And that was enough to make me walk away.

Shaking my head, I headed toward the door, Viper hot on my heels as Jonny seemed to regain use of his mouth and shouted after us, “Make sure to say hi to Levi for me the next time you see him.”

“Keep walking,” Viper muttered from behind me as my fists began to curl.

Not worth it. No, Jonny wasn’t worth the dirt on the bottom of my boots, but Levi was worth everything, and that was the only reason I was walking away now.

Thirty-Nine

Killian

WORD TRAVELED FAST, so I really shouldn’t have been surprised when Levi demanded a meeting with the entire band the day after I knocked the shit out of Jonny. I didn’t know whether the others were speaking to each other after the fight over Imogen, but I knew the point of getting us all together was to work shit out—though I doubted Levi would include the two of us in that.

I made sure to have the coffee brewed strong, ready for when the guys began to trickle in. First Slade, then Halo and Viper, and it didn’t escape my notice how they ended up on opposite sides of the room and didn’t even speak to each other.

Leaning back against the kitchen island, I sipped my coffee and waited, not wanting to get involved in the storm still looming over the others. I had my own problems to worry about, namely what Levi would say now that he’d found out what went down last night with Jonny.

I didn’t regret it. Fuck no. But I also wasn’t trying to make things worse when the band seemed close to imploding as it was.

The door opened without a knock, and then Levi stepped inside looking like a GQ model, if GQ models wore an electric-purple suit and an almost blinding yellow button-up. Even if he wasn’t so damn beautiful, one thing I couldn’t deny was that Levi always commanded the attention in a room, with or without the brightly colored clothes.

He scanned over the room, taking stock of who was there and who wasn’t. When his gaze landed on me, he immediately moved my way, whatever he was thinking and feeling hidden behind his blank expression.

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