I was out of my mind by the time she appeared, and then to see her looking like she did, knowing that some guy had touched her, hurt her… It stirred something within me that I thought I’d locked down years ago. My need to protect, my need to keep what’s mine close and out of harm’s way just took over. And it really shouldn’t be Zach’s little sister.
“Fuck,” I whisper-shout into the silence of my bedroom.
Dragging myself so I’m sitting, I catch sight of myself in the mirror propped up against the wall. I look a fucking mess.
The guys at the studio are going to have a fucking field day with this.
Pushing my hair from my eyes, I stand, grab some clean clothes, and slip down the hall toward the bathroom to shower.
The water stings, but the warmth helps soothe my aching muscles, especially my ribs. I know he’s not broken any—they don’t hurt that bad—but shit, he really went to town.
I understand why. If I had a little sister, I wouldn’t want her anywhere near the likes of me either.
Kas doesn’t emerge before I swipe my keys from the kitchen counter, so I’m forced to walk to her door.
I might not want to look at her right now for fear of even more vivid reminders of last night—my memories are already bad enough—but I need to tell her I’m leaving and attempt to get her to stay put this time so we don’t all spend the next few hours worrying about her.
“I’m going to work. Can you do me a favour?”
“No.” I want to laugh at her defiance, but knowing it could end up getting her killed stifles my reaction somewhat.
“Kas, please. Just stay here while I’m gone. I don’t want to spend my entire shift worrying about you.”
“That’s sweet and all, but I didn’t think you gave a shit.”
My forehead hits the wood of her door. Of course I give a shit. I give a little too much of one, that’s the problem.
“Please, Kas. For me, for Zach, for your friend, just stay here and keep the door locked. Zach’s going to make this go away. Just give him time, and then you’re free.”
“Great, so in the meantime I’m locked up like your fucking sex slave. I don’t think so.”
I try to shake the images of us rolling around in her bed out, to forget but I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to. Her taste is still on my tongue, and fuck if my mouth doesn’t water for another round.
“You’re not a prisoner. We both know you can get out of this place of your own free will. I’m just asking you not to.” I don’t reference her sex slave comment for fear of me begging her to be just that.
“Whatever. I’ll see how I feel.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I swallow down the words. What’s the point? She’s already made it abundantly clear that she’ll do whatever the hell she wants.
“Okay, well, I’ll probably be back about ten-ish. I’ll bring dinner.”
I get no response, so after waiting a few seconds too long for one, I turn and walk away.
I don’t bother double locking the door. If she wants out, she’ll just go through the window again.
The second I’m out of the building, I’m on high alert. I know they’re waiting for her, so it seems likely that they’d have followed her back here. If Jet is the kind of man she makes him out to be, then he’ll have his assets covered at all times.
I just have to hope he’s not desperate enough to force his way to her.
A shudder runs down my spine at the thought of coming home to find her gone—not because she willingly walked out, but because she was forced.
Climbing on my bike, I rev the engine and allow the vibration to flow through me, to ground me, to push everything away so I can at least attempt to focus on work for the next few hours. Pulling the helmet down hurts like fuck, and as I cuss Zach out, I tell myself that I deserved it anyway.
The drive to the studio isn’t all that long, and it’s nowhere near enough to help clear my mind. It’s still spinning with images of last night and this morning long after I’ve parked up and pushed through the front door.
“Whoa, what the fuck happened to your ugly face?” Titch asks the second he looks at me from his spot on the sofa in reception.
“Do we have to?” I ask, walking straight past him and out to our little kitchen.
“Biff’s gone for coffee,” he calls out to me.
“Where’s Zach?”
“No idea, upstairs maybe. D’s in his room already, if you need a full run down,” he jokes.
“Fuck off,” I mutter when I emerge with a steaming mug of coffee.
“Well, aren’t you in a delightful mood this afternoon. Your clients are in for a real treat.”
I cut him with a scathing look.
“Is this what happens when you don’t get laid?”
“Who says I haven’t got laid?” I regret the words the second they fall from my lips.
“The fact that you’ve got boss man’s little sister living in your flat. Unless…”
“Whatever.” I hold up my hand to cut him off and walk down toward our rooms, ignoring mine and going straight for D.
“Spike,” he barks behind me. “You’d better not be holding out on me, man.”
Letting Titch’s voice fade into the background, I knock twice on the door before D calls out for me to enter.
“Whoa, shit. I knew Kas was a feisty one, but fuck, man.”
Rolling my eyes, I close his door behind me and fall down on the old sofa he has in the corner.
“What the hell happened?”
“Zach happened,” I state.
“Oh shit.”
“He turned up this morning and flew off the handle. I mean, I get it. I’d just stumbled out of bed and
