Ashley

“You… do not… leave your house… dressed like that… without being on the arm of a man like me,” he ground out on a terrifying staccato with scary pauses.

“A man like you?” I whispered.

“A man who’d shoot another man in the face he even looked at you. Yeah, Anya, a man… like… me.”

“Wars fought over a face like this,” he murmured like he was talking to himself, my heart stopped beating and his thumbs moved lightly across my cheeks. “A man would work himself into the ground for it, go down to his knees to beg to keep it, endure torture to protect it, take a bullet for it,” his eyes came to mine, “poison his brother to possess a face like this.”

“I’ll kill him, he touches you again,” he murmured.

Oh boy.

“Knight,” I breathed, my fingers clenching tighter in his tee.

“Kill anyone, they touch you.”