Page 6 of The Billionaire's Bride
"Enough. Really, you two, cut it out." I fold my arms across my chest.
Edward scowls.
Baron’s jaw hardens.
The animosity in the room seems to hit a fever pitch. The hair on the back of my nape stands on end.
"Step aside, Ava," Baron’s voice lowers to a hush.
"No, no, no." I wring my fingers. "Don’t do this."
"Do it," Edward says in a hard tone. Then he turns his gaze on me, and his features soften, "Please. Baron and I we need to sort this out."
"But… You’re hurt," I burst out.
Edward rises to his feet. He pulls his arm out of his sling. Sweat beads his brow, but his features don’t change. "You mean this?" He smirks. "It’s fine, just a scratch."
I blink down at his arm, then at his face. "You are crazy," I mutter.
"I have been since I met you," he agrees.
Baron growls deep in his throat and the hackles on my arms rise.
"Now, Ava," he snaps, and I skitter back.
I feel the breeze a second before he throws up his fist.
3
Baron
What the hell am I doing? Edward's hurt, for fuck’s sake. And yet, he’d challenged me. Knowing full-well I wouldn’t be able to resist it. I throw a punch, aiming for the unhurt part of his face. He rises to his feet, ducks at the same time. I stumble forward. Edward wraps his good arm about my neck, tugging. Motherfucker’s hurt but his grip is powerful. Apparently, the ex-Father has been keeping in shape.
"Stop! Stop it, you two!" Ava yells, just as Edward yanks his arm tightly against my neck, cutting off my air supply. I try to take in a breath and my lungs burn.
"I am going to get help." From the corner of my vision, I sense Ava run for the door.
I cough, grip Edward’s forearm, tugging. He grunts, then with a sharp twist, digs his elbow into my windpipe. Darkness flickers at the edge of my conscious mind. Fuck this. Hurt or not, I am going to have to bring him down. I bring my elbow up, shove back. Connecting with his chest.
A growl rips from him. His grip loosens. I break free, turning on him, to find him reeling back. Blood stains his hospital gown. His breathing is harsh, his face pale.
"Shit, shit, shit."
He sways on his feet, and I grab his shoulders, turn and ease him onto the bed.
"Why do you have to be such a stubborn motherfucker?
"Why do you have to…be?" He glowers up at me, pulls away, then huffs again. Sweat beads his forehead, as he collapses back.
"I am sorry, Ed. Truly, I didn’t mean to shoot you."
"Yeah," he says through clenched teeth. "I know, even though a part of me wishes that you had done it on purpose, just so I could find a reason to hate you."
"Like you don’t have enough basis to do so now?"
"You and Ava." He curls his fingers into fists, "How could you, Baron?"
"It wasn’t something in my control," I snap.
