Page 2 of Reese’s Protection

“Jeremy, stop. This isn’t funny.” I squirmed, and his hold on me tightened until I winced. The panic doubled, claws of fear digging into my skin.

“You’re coming home with me.” His voice was a deep hiss directly into my ear.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. I was stuck in the terrifying visions that played in my head, my legs moving because he forced them to. Reminders of the past struck me. Images of him holding a knife in the kitchen that one time he got really angry. Another of him driving his fist through a wall near my head when I said no to him. Then, there was that time he flipped over the kitchen table, splintering the wood and permanently damaging it.

And I’d never seen him this furious. No, this was a march to my death if I didn’t fight back.

I needed to escape.

Run.

Something. Anything.

The closer we got to the exit, the slimmer my chances became. I fought harder, but he only got rougher.

This was how I’d die. I was sure of it.

Fuck. There were so many things I’d never gotten to do—buy a Ducati or support my boss-slash-friend into being a more confident man. Layton would never forgive himself for bringing me here, for leaving, and I didn’t want him to feel that way. Yet, there was nothing I could do. Jeremy not only was bigger and stronger, he had a habit of making me look like a psycho when I tried to point out he was doing something wrong.

He was never being abusive, he was simply reacting to me doing the “wrong” things. No matter what, everything was always my fault. If I got hurt, it was on me.

My ears buzzed as we passed through the crowd. They either didn’t notice him dragging me toward the exit or didn’t care. His grip was suffocating, and these strangers were the only ones who could help me breathe again. Would they even acknowledge me if I screamed? I was lost to the world. To them. Another fatality reported on the news, soon to be forgotten.

Please see me. Please see the truth.

I sent desperate looks at every person I passed, but I was a ghost. Already dead and buried.

As we neared the door, I apologized to Layton in my head and thought about his brother, who I’d had a huge crush on for a couple of years. Damn it. Another thing I would never get to do—tell Knox Tennant that I loved him.

This was it. The end. I could feel it in my bones. The music scraped against my ears, worse than screams in a haunted house. I’d accepted my fate. I’d be nothing more than another statistic.

Everything happened so fast.

Before we reached the door, a large shadow stepped in front of us. Jeremy yanked me back, and I darted a glance up at a massive man who prevented us from leaving. A gasp of relief left my mouth as I focused on Knox’s face, begging with my eyes.

Help me.

The leather jacket he wore pulled around his upper arms as he crossed them.

Jeremy paused. He’d never liked Knox or Layton. He’d mocked everything about Knox, said his long brown hair that he kept tied up in a bun was “girly.” What did Jeremy know? Sculpted by the gods, Knox was masculine and foreboding. He had a suntan from years of riding his motorcycle. And best of all, it had always been obvious that he scared the shit out of my ex-boyfriend.

“Knox. Move,” Jeremy said. He clearly wanted his words to be an order, but they trembled.

Knox’s jaw twitched. “No, I don’t think I will.” His gaze slid to me. “Reese, are you okay?”

“No.” I yanked my arm, but Jeremy held on tighter, and I yelped in pain. “He’s dragging me out of here against my will. He won’t take no for an answer.”

Even in the blinking lights of Sinful, Knox’s piercing green eyes flashed with fury. He stepped forward. His muscles had muscles, so he towered over my ex dangerously. “Let Reese go.”

I didn’t know why Knox was here. He hated clubs as much as Jeremy, if not more. He preferred low-key places. The lake at night. Riding his bike. Despite the motorcycle being loud, he always said it quieted his brain.

“Fuck you,” Jeremy sneered. “He’s mine.”

Knox smirked, a deadly curve of his mouth that had my eyes widening. I’d only seen that look on his face once, when one of the football players at New Gothenburg University punched Layton. The jock left that party bloody. My stomach swooped and I couldn’t decide if it was from relief or fear. Maybe both. My palms turned clammy and I swallowed, desperate for Knox to save me. Get me away from here.

Anything.

Everything.