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“Payne, that was not sanctioned,” Moyes snaps, before turning to me with a slightly softer expression. “You need to let him go.”
I really fucking don’t. What Ineedis to kill him for endangering her life like that. The rage boils and bubbles and spits out of me and I don’t give a fuck that his ugly smarmy face is turning fucking purple, there’s nothing in this world that can stop me ending his life—
“Vance.” The softly spoken word. The delicate press of a scorching palm on the small of my back. The hairs on the back of my neck standing to attention at her proximity.
I drop him like the sack of shit he is, spinning to give her my full attention.
“Don’t. Please.”
It’s all she gets out before the last of my restraint snaps and I forget it all. Who she is. Who I am. Who we’re pretending to be. Where we are.
I devour her lips like a starved man, gusting my hands in her hair and swallowing her gasp of surprise.
I am starved, having denied myself for far too long. I’ve wanted Malia since the moment I laid eyes on her in that bar. I’ve wanted my queen since the day I took my oath. I even denied my fiancée for my role.
I’m done denying myself the things I want. What I need. And right now, I need to kiss Malia more than I need anything else in this world or mine.
A loud throat clearing eventually pulls us apart and Malia cringes like she just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
I keep her close, allowing her to bury her face into my suit jacket as I glower at the female officer who disturbed us and shoot a dismissive sneer at Payne still coughing and spluttering on the floor.
“We’re leaving,” I announce to the room.
“There’s paperwork—”
“Fuck your paperwork. You can forward it to me. She needs medical attention and you better hope and pray that this doesn’t come back to bite you on the ass. I’ll send you the bill.”
I shrug my jacket off and throw it over her shoulders, which causes her to blush even more than being caught kissing. It almost makes me chuckle, but I’m still too angry about everything.
Scooping her up into my arms and exiting the cell, I carry her along the dingy corridor and out into the waiting area. Malia blinks in the brighter light, and I can see how truly awful she looks after spending one night in those cells.
Trial by fucking fire! They’re lucky I don’t burn this place to the ground with all of them inside for pulling a stunt like that.
“Do you need anything?” I ask her, forcing my thoughts away from revenge. I need to calm down, I don’t want to scare her.
“My bag, phone and shoes. But it’s not important,” she quickly adds. I can see it on her face; she thinks she’s a burden. How do I make her see that she’s anything but?
“The guys grabbed all of that last night,” I settle for telling her instead. “The first time they let you go.”
“Oh, okay. I can walk.”
I tut and scowl. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not wearing any shoes.”
She tries to hide her smile as we leave the station and I don’t hesitate to continue carrying her away from that place. I plan to make it my mission to ensure she doesn’t ever have to return – which would be really easy if Ididburn it down.
“This feels like a walk of shame,” she murmurs lowly. Maybe she didn’t mean for me to hear, because when I ask her how, she blushes once more. “I’m in last night’s clothes, with no shoes and I’m wearing your jacket.”
“There’s absolutely no shame in what you’ve been through,” I tell her, ignoring the innuendo. The last thing I need is to acknowledge the elephant between us and make things even more awkward.
Besides, if I had my way with Malia, there would be nowalk of shameafterwards. Because I wouldn’t let her walk away.
“What do you want, Malia?” I ask, steering us onto safer topics.
“Umm,” she hesitates “want?”
She bites her lip and looks up at me through her lashes and fuck if I don’t nearly drop her when the lust sparks through me.
“Want to do, now, I mean.” Jesus. I can’t even get my words out. She’s got that much power over me.
