Page 41 of Mangled Memory
He softens his voice, as if he hasn’t just insulted me, and reaches out to cup my neck. I channel that avenging angel he spoke of and fight to keep my feet exactly where they are.
“I don’t want easy, Ayla. I never have. I love the fight youhave in you. And not because I want to break it or because I like conflict. But because I need an equal.”
My body softens as he dips his forehead to mine.
He kisses me gently, pulling back, to stare into my eyes.
I don’t know what he’s looking for and, quite frankly, I don’t care. I need to slake this lust, need to quash the emotions that churn like the tide inside me, so I slide my arms into his suit jacket and tug.
He slants his mouth over mine and takes, his tongue warring with mine for dominance. Until there is no battle, there is only him claiming me. I only pull back when my moan is so loud it echoes off the walls.
He’s flush to my body, but pulls me even tighter, bending me backward over the arm at my lower back.
My nails skim his hairline, biting into flesh as I hold on. The heat of his cock pressed against me causes warmth to pool low in my belly.
He twists my hair around his fist and tugs, prompting a bite of pain in my scalp and eliciting a gasp of pleasure from me. My eyes pop open and stare into his, full of blatant carnal hunger.
The harsh sawing of ragged breaths is the only thing to be heard as we stand staring into each other’s eyes in a silent battle and screaming desire.
One second, I’m lost in his black eyes as his warm, strong body presses into mine.
The next, the rack of the metal slide splits the air.
Everything happens at once— I glance over his shoulder, the alarm screams, his phone buzzes in his pocket…
… and a gun fires.
12
fueled by coffee and rage
Ayla
It’s too loud. I wouldn’t think I could say that with my ears ringing like they are.
Sirens wail.
Alarms whirl.
Footsteps pound. Some run toward us. Others run away.
And the screams… they bounce from the walls, vibrating back to me in an eerie echo that may haunt me forever.
When my body is lifted from the floor, I flail. Everything moves in hyper speed. All the while, my brain moves in slow motion.
“No. No. No!” I thrash, fighting the arms that hold me, throwing my weight against the body of whomever is trying to kidnap me, herd me, or hurt me. I don’t know and I don’t care.
“I need to get you to safety.”
“Don’t touch me.” I hope it comes out on a scream. I hope my voice has fight in it. I can’t determine if I’m a tigress or a kitten at this point. I push against the arms lifting me but am useless against the man.
“Mrs. Barone, please.”
Fitz? I look up into the face of the man I barely know. “Christian. Help Christian.”
“I am. Your safety has always been his priority. Moreso after…” his gaze drops to the hairline above my ear. “Please cooperate so I can see to him.”
That’s enough. I acquiesce. He carries me through the house and into my dark room, setting me on my feet. In two strides, he has us in front of a shelving unit full of chemicals on one side, pressing a button on one of the bottles, flipping open a hidden panel.
