Page 31 of Hate You Forever (Hate 1)

“Nix.” Marnix’s deep voice filters through the phone, answering after the first ring.

“I’m at the apartment. She wants to speak to you. You’re on speakerphone.” Rushton sounds agitated that I’m making him do this.

“Fine. What do you want, Tara?”

Well now, that makes two pissy men. Such babies.

“Did you send someone to my apartment?”

“Yes,” he replies immediately.

“What’s his name?”

“Rush Bergman.” Hmm, so he goes by Rush. I’ll remember that for later.

“What does he look like?”

“You really think the guy calling me isn’t the man I sent?” I can tell he’s getting frustrated with me. I grin at how temperamental he is; pissing him off makes my whole day.

“Answer the question.”

He growls at my demand, but answers anyway. “Dark curly hair, dark skin, brown eyes, tattoos.”

“What kind of tattoos does he have?”

He sighs, likely thinking about hanging up on me for wasting his precious time. “On his right forearm, there’s a tattoo of a disassembled clock, going all the way up to his elbow. Satisfied?” Looking down at Rush’s right forearm, I see the intricate tattoo Marnix just described.

Marnix clearly left out key facts, like how this man is a walking god who has gorgeous tattoos lining his thick, muscular arms, perfect mocha skin, and tight black curls that flop slightly over his forehead. His eyes are so dark that I could get lost in them, and they look like they hold endless stories. Not that I expected Marnix to go into that amount of detail.

“Alright.” It checks out. Looks like this guy really is who he says.

Rushton says goodbye to Marnix and hangs up the phone, not moving from his spot as he stares down at me.

“So are we going to stay like this all day or are you going to get off me?” I demand. He instantly releases my wrists, pushing off my body to stand up. Once he’s up, I scramble to my feet as he awkwardly turns his back to me. Looking down, I remember I’m butt naked from the waist down. “I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Don’t want to be disrespectful.” Huh, so this one has manners. I wonder how he puts up with Marnix.

“Breaking into my apartment and walking into my bathroom with a gun isn’t disrespectful?” I move over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of jean shorts and a black thong.

“I was told to just come in, then I heard you scream. It’s my job to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I ask while pulling my underwear and shorts up over my thighs.

“You’re my main priority now since you’re marrying Nix.”

Why would I need protection? Is something going on that I don’t know about?

“Am I in danger?” My eyebrows pinch in concern.

“It’s just a precaution. I promise.”

To be honest, this doesn’t seem like such a bad idea since I got that phone call and flowers courtesy of Zayan the other day. He’s a little too close for comfort, putting me on edge. If this guy Rushton is here to protect me, Zayan can’t hurt me. At least that’s what I’d like to think, though his psychotic ass knows no bounds.

Rushton sounds sincere, but it still doesn’t explain what he’s doing here. Before he has a chance to explain, I notice the blood dripping down his face.

“You’re bleeding.”

“You got me pretty good,” he grumbles, lightly touching the wound and looking at the blood on his fingers.

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