Page 68 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

“It’s scaring the hell out of you, isn’t it?”

I stare at my feet instead of looking at him. It annoys me how well he reads me. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, bro.” He nudges me with his shoulder and stops walking, pointing forward. As if on cue, I recognize Charley in a bundle of gear, walking toward us almost as tall as me on ice skates. My heart beats furiously in my chest, beckoning me closer when my head is screaming for me to turn the other way and bolt. I can’t though. I can’t fucking quit Charlotte Miller, my Outlaw. There is no explanation for our connection, but I couldn’t deny it if I tried. I don’t want to try, no matter how much my brain says I need to.

She moves toward us, kicking her stick forward with each step, brandishing it like it’s a magical staff. Her eyes lock on me, bright and burning. I close mine, searing that image into my mind, letting it soak into me to draw some relief from it.

“Hey, guys,” she beams, flashing us a toothy, pre-scrimmage grin. Happiness looks so good on her.

“Charley, you ready to whip some ass?” Jensen fist bumps her.

“Hell yeah.” She pulls me into focus, her enthusiasm shifting to a frown. “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by.”

“He wanted to surprise you, watch you in action,” Jensen lies.

I want to be mad at him for pushing this, but I can’t. It’s what Jensen does, saving me from myself and the travesty I was about to make of this situation by no doubt saying something stupid. He will not let me give up on Charley, and for that, I’m grateful in a way. I want to see my Outlaw in her natural environment, tearing up the ice like she enjoys doing. Listening to her talk about hockey is remarkable. I’ve never seen someone with so much passion for something.

Fuck.How have I been so careless? I’m narrowly subduing the desire to touch her, to be close to her. I’ve been careful not to get attached until now and, being in her presence once again, I’m unsure what the hell I’m going to do. She almost did me in with the disappointment on her face because I didn’t tell her I was coming. It might break her heart, it might not if I break things off. I can’t face it if it does. It’s still hard to accept that someone might be into me.

Not sure how to handle this properly—not like we made things exclusive—I place my palm on her padded hip and lean in to kiss her cheek like I do Foxy’s, a friendly gesture. Jensen groans uncomfortably behind me and I’m ready to scold him when a muscular arm lands on Charley’s shoulder, knocking into my own.

Jonas.

Blood drains from his knuckles, his hold on her so punishing if she didn’t have such thick protection over her shoulder, he’d bruise her. With intense focus, my eyes brand his skin, imploring him to let go.

Rage races through my veins and possession creeps up on me. A sensation like something I’ve never experienced before. It’s not jealousy. Sure, I’ve had nothing to be jealous of before, but it’s still not that.

No, this is carnal, savage, final, and it rips through my muscles, seizing them, owning them to the point the urge to stretch it out of my system is almost crippling. I’ve never, and I mean, never, reacted to anything like this before. It’s foreign, unrelenting. I’m lacking control.

“Do what you will behind the scenes, but do you think it’s smart to cheat on me openly, beautiful? And with trash like this?” Jonas purrs and the sound grates on every nerve ending in my body, exposing them to the white-hot heat that surges through me.

Cheat? On him? What? A flicker of doubt spears me, but I push it away. Charley is not with this fool. No way. She wouldn’t date him again. It’s not who she is, and she has made it clear on multiple occasions she wants nothing to do with this prick. I choose to trust in her. I have to because if we don’t have that, then we have nothing and trust is what I so desperately need in someone.

“Fuck off, Jonas. Go back to whatever depraved hole you crawled out of,” Charley growls and it’s so deep—so menacing—I’m not sure she was the one who said it. Something crawled into her and possessed her when we weren’t looking.

Jonas doesn’t flinch when Jensen steps in closer behind me. With no plans to back off, Jonas’ vile lips touch Charley’s cheek. A move that has me seeing red. She jerks away, turning away like one would if they’ve been burned. “She’s mine, aren’t you Charlotte?”

I’m barely contained, flexing my fists. I’m not typically a violent person, but seeing his hands, his lips on my Outlaw when she doesn’t consent, is making a different kind of darkness bubble up inside me. It burns like acid, attacking each cell in my body.

Charley watches me, wary, and Jensen crowds me, unsure of what I’ll do. Hell, I’m not even sure I know what I’m going to do.

There is no fear in my body for this fucker. It’s hard to scare someone when they have nothing to lose.

Is this the reaction of someone with nothing to lose, or do I have something he can take from me now?Maybe that’s why everything rushing through me is so primitive, my rage so vivid. Is that why I can see myself ripping his cock clear from his body if it ever gets close to her again?

I position myself half in front of Charley, half in front of Jonas and breach his personal space, so close I could kiss him. We’re the same height, but he has a significant muscular advantage over me. I couldn’t care less. I will protect what’s mine. “She’s not yours, not anymore. If you lay another hand on her again, I’ll rip it from your body.”

“Oh yeah? I’d pay good money to see that. You see, this pussy, is mine—always has been, always will be. I’ll only give you so many warnings to back off what is mine. Isn’t that right, darling? You chose this.”

“The hell I did,” Charley sneers through clenched teeth.

“Are you threatening us?” Jensen, who towers over all of us, asks.

“I sure as fuck am.” Jonas licks up the side of Charley’s face as if to put a claim on her. She shrugs him off of her and turns to face him. A swift slap connects with his cheek, whipping his head to the side and sending a crack echoing through the wintery rink.

Jensen and I tense, waiting for Jonas to retaliate. The starved look on his face says that he has no problem hitting women. Has he hit her before? If he has, she doesn’t show any fear of him and that’s exactly what I’d expect out of her. She may be a victim of abuse, but she won’t cower.

Jonas pops his jaw, his eyes crazed as he makes a show of readjusting the bones. The shape of Charley’s hand appears in a faint, swelling red mark through the stubble on his jaw. The madman enjoyed the hell out of that. And I can’t lie. I appreciated watching her slap him, but I didn’t find joy in it.

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