The sound it makes when Christian’s fist hits his face…it’s like a bat cracking into the trunk of a tree. Malcom lets out a groaning noise and goes down hard.
And then my hand is in Christian’s and I’m being led to the door.
“You son of a bitch,” Malcom mutters. I glance back over my shoulder to see him fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing. “You’re going to jail for this.”
“Are you all right?” Christian asks me, my hand so safe and secure as he leads me outside.
I nod, collapsing against his chest. I breathe deep, inhaling his scent that is so incredibly comforting.
It’s for sure now. I’m absolutely in love.
“God, there’s nothing I want to do more right now than take you back to my cabin.”
“I want that so badly too,” I groan. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come to you last night. My mother—she just was watching me like a fricking prison guard!”
“It’s okay, Kate.” His smile nearly levels me. It’s just not possible to be so charming and so gorgeous, but somehow, he does it. “I knew you would have come if you could have.”
“You’re damn right I would have,” I squeak.
“This will change things now, right?” Christian asks. “Your parents can’t have you marry him now.”
“That depends,” I reply.
“Depends? Depends on what?”
“On whether they believe me or not.”
Christian blinks twice and gawks at me. “Wait, what?”
I realize as I say them how ridiculous the words sound coming out of my mouth. I mean, how could my parents not believe me when I tell them what Malcom just did to me? But then again, they didn’t believe me when I told them Jess McCormick was the one who was drinking at the house and that it was she and her friends who broke the downstairs sliding glass door in high school and not me.
They also didn’t believe me when my “boyfriend” Josh took the keys to my mom’s car and ran it into the neighbor’s tree at ten miles an hour and completely messed up the hood and front bumper.
So I guess you could say there’s a reason I don’t have much faith in my parents’ trust in me.
“Yeah, it’s a long story,” I sigh. “I mean, I’ll tell them, but I don’t see it changing much.”
I put a hand on Christian’s chest to try and calm him down, as he’s looking like he’s ready to go down to where my parents are sitting and give them both a piece of his mind. That of course would not be good.
“That bastard tries to do that to you and you’re supposed to just…” His voice trails off as his hands ball up into fists. I reach up and take him by his perfect jaw, lean in, and kiss him gently on the lips.
Again, I feel the magic between us. It’s undeniable.
If only there was some way to get away from all this—away from my family, away from this place. If only I had some kind of device that could whisk us both away like something out of a science-fiction movie or something.
God, wouldn’t that solve all our problems?
Suddenly, the sound of sirens blaring fills the air, shattering the serenity of the moment like a hammer against a pane of glass.
Christian and I both look up to see two police cruisers coming down the hill.
“Jesus,” I say as they speed toward us. “He actually called them…”