Page 48 of The Caress

"They’re the worst," Keir agrees before raising his voice again. "Go. Away. I’m not going to warn you again." He adds a small gesture this time, as if swatting a fly.

I hear the guy say something that sounds a lot like Keir’s favorite curse word, just in Italian. There’s a venom in the stranger’s voice that surprises me all over again, but I’m trying my best to take my own advice and ignore him.

Don’t let them ruin our lunch.

Don’t let them ruin our lunch.

"You want to say that a little louder, asshole?" Keir calls out. "Wanna tell me to fuck off without that camera protecting your face?"

Too late. Lunch has officially been ruined.

The guy says something else I can’t understand, and Keir rises up from his seat. "Keir, please," I whisper, reaching for his arm and hoping to calm him down. "Maybe we should just leave. He’s just trying to taunt you. Let’s not give him the satisfaction of knowing it’s working."

Again, it’s too late. I might as well be talking to the medieval brick wall behind him.

"Fuck this guy," Keir growls, lunging past me and startling a scream from the woman at the table next to us.

The photographer is yelling in Italian now, stumbling backwards but still documenting every move Keir makes. I can’t even imagine how damaging these photos are going to be or the fallout Keir will have to endure with his family, his business, and the general public, who already don’t have a super high opinion of him.

I have to stop this madness. It’s already gotten way out of hand, but maybe we can still salvage our day and what’s left of Keir’s reputation if we leave now.

"Let’s go," I say, coming up behind Keir and taking his arm. "Please, let’s just get out of here."

I might actually be breaking through his anger this time. He nods slightly and takes a step back with me, but stops again, and his eyes go wide as he shifts his weight and tries to tuck me behind him. "Get down, Ella. Now!"

But I’m too slow to react. I look up just in time to see the guy charging at us with his fists raised. I duck, and Keir blocks him from colliding with me, but I can still feel a sharp pain explode in my cheek as the stranger’s fist makes contact.

I scream and fall, scrambling to get away while Keir grapples with the photographer. Keir throws a punch, then another, and another, until he's on top of the man. "Is this what you want?" Keir roars, hitting the guy again. "Was the picture worth getting beat up for? Worth hitting a woman?"

Blood is spraying from the guy’s nose, and I’m afraid Keir will kill him if he doesn’t stop. I pick myself up and hurry over, tugging at Keir’s shoulder just before he slugs the guy again.

"Let’s go," I say, my cheek throbbing with every move I make. I can already feel my eye swelling up. I don’t even want to think about how bad this is going to look when it’s all over. I just want to get the hell out of here. "Now, Keir. We have to leave."

He looks up at me, and his whole demeanor changes. "Shit," he says, leaving the guy in the street and taking me into his arms instead. "I’m so sorry, Ella. I tried to protect you. I swear I tried."

There’s no time for any of this right now. "We have to go," I repeat, still tugging at him even though his strong arms are finally wrapped around me completely. "Keir, comeon."

"Right," he nods, finally coming to his senses and ushering me back to the table so we can collect our things. "We need to leave before the police get here. I’ll call a doctor for you on the way back to the villa."

I don’t think I need a doctor, but I’m not going to bother trying to talk him out of it. We have more important things to worry about right now, like trying to get home without being arrested for assault and battery.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

KEIR

It’s been almost twenty-four hours, but I still feel horrible for what happened. I can’t look at Ella without regretting every single one of my actions yesterday, but she hasn’t complained at all.

Even when we were kicked out of Malta, she found the silver lining in the situation by saying how much she missed Drummond Castle and how happy she would be to see it again.

She’s a fighter. She’s an angel. She’s my saving grace. I love her, even if I’m still scared to admit it out loud.

"I wish you’d stop looking at me like that," she says, taking the cup of tea that I’ve prepared for her and wincing as she lifts the cup to her lips. "I know I look like a monster. I’m reminded every time I try to move. Or speak. Or breathe."

"You don’t look like a monster," I say, sitting down on the sofa next to her. "Do you want me to get you something for the pain? I can have the doctor come back and prescribe some pills."

"No," she says, giving me a half-smile from the side of her face that isn’t swollen. "I don’t need any pills. It was just one punch. I’m pretty sure you blocked most of it. I’d hate to think what I might look like if he’d hit me square in the face."

I can feel myself getting angry all over again as I replay the scene in my mind. How the guy was taunting us. How the feeling of rage clouded my judgment. How something ugly inside me took over when I realized he’d hurt Ella.

---