“All right.” Marcus’s voice is hard, and it seems to come from miles away. “All right!”
Almost before he finishes speaking, I’m hauled bodily out of Theo’s embrace, stumbling a little as disorientation floods me. Marcus pulls me into his arms, my back to his front, wrapping me up tight. I can feel the rapid thud of his heart against my back as I blink up at Theo.
The blond man’s eyes are wide, the usual teasing gleam gone from their depths.
He looks almost… shocked.
Because he didn’t expect me to kiss him? Or because he didn’t know it would be like that when I did?
I can’t hide the dazed shock in my own expression as I stare at Theo as if I’m transfixed. What the hell was that? What just happened?
Marcus releases me, and Theo tenses as his friend steps forward, every line of his muscular body taut and hard. For a second, I’m certain that Marcus is going to beat the shit out of Theo just like he did to Greg, and my stomach drops out. I don’t want to see that. I don’t want to see more violence and carnage.
But more than that, I don’t want to see it between these two men. I don’t want to know what happens when the deep friendship between them fractures.
Did I just fracture it?
A momentary twinge of guilt races through me, even though it shouldn’t. We’re on an uneven playing field, and as the most disadvantaged player, I shouldn’t feel bad about doing whatever I have to in order to survive.
But something about the bond between these three men is special. It’s different. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before in my life, and it’s the kind of thing I’ve always longed for—in those rare moments when I could admit to that kind of weakness in myself.
It’s not the kind of thing that should be broken lightly.
Marcus’s muscles shift as he clenches and unclenches his hands. Theo watches him carefully, not looking cowed, but not looking like he wants to fight either.
Ryland, too, is tense, and the look of fury on his face when he shifts his gaze to me eclipses anything he’s thrown my way before.
Then Marcus turns slowly, his eyes finding mine. The brutal rage that filled his expression earlier is gone. He looks almost calm.
He stalks toward me smoothly, looping an arm around my back when he reaches me. I press my hand against his chest, trapping it between our bodies as he hauls me toward him, crushing my body against his.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Ayla,” he says quietly. “And it won’t work. You think I want you less because you kissed Theo? You think that changes anything between us? It doesn’t. And it never will.”
He lowers his head, brushing his cheek against mine as his lips find the shell of my ear. His voice is soft, simple. Honest.
“Those two are like my brothers. I will never hurt them. I will never fight them. But if you ever touch a man besides any of the ones present right now, that man will pay for it dearly. Do you understand?”
I notice he didn’t say I will pay for it dearly. Only that the man will. He’s not threatening me—at least, not directly.
Warning me, maybe. Testing me.
But what kind of person would I have to be to knowingly drag another man into the fucked up mess that exists between me and these three?
I nod, the small motion making Marcus’s stubble scrape against my cheek. “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
His hand fists my hair, and he tugs my head back as he turns his own head, claiming my lips in a searing kiss. It’s hard and almost vicious, and I kiss him back the same way, taking out every bit of my helpless fury on his lips and teeth and tongue.
I want to kill him through this kiss.
I want to tear him apart.
I want to burn him down and dance on the fucking ashes.
But when he finally pulls away, breathing hard as he stares down at me with his lips red and swollen, he’s still alive.
At least, by some miracle, so am I.