Standing up, I stepped down the stairs and moved out onto the porch. Almost immediately, Kingston looked up from where he stood talking quietly to his father, a few steps back from the police. Mr. Ross offered me a small smile as King approached, his eyes shaded with something dark. I sighed as his arms completely wrapped around me, his frame coating me in heat. I let out a small breath of relief as he pressed his lips into my hair and let out a small rumble in the back of his throat.
“I fought back,” I said in a quiet voice, wanting him to know.
“I know, princess.” His voice was rough like he’d been yelling. “I know you did.”
“How?” I mumbled.
“Security cameras,” he got out, a shudder seeming to roll over his skin as he tilted my jaw up, looking over my face. Something dark and a bit scary flashed across his expression. “He left bruises on your jaw.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” I promised as I pressed my head against his chest. “I’m just glad he’s gone. Yates said he is heading back home?”
Kingston made a sound and said something under his breath. “Yeah, he’s gone.”
I blinked at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
There was a lot I meant by that.
His gaze ran over my expression before he spoke quietly. “Ian isn’t going to face this without punishment, princess. You have to understand that.”
I watched his eyes and saw only the truth there. Did I want to know what he meant by that? Honestly… not really. I didn’t need details.
“I do,” I answered. “You promise to always tell me stuff when it relates to me, King? I don’t like feeling out of the loop.”
His brow dipped. “I would never purposefully make you feel that way. Have I?”
“A little,” I whispered. “Like how do you know Callum?”
His eyes flashed slightly. “Through work.”
“The Ross Company?”
“Sort of,” he hedged, and then ran a hand over his jaw. “I want to keep you safe, Dahlia. You trust me to do that, right?”
“Of course, Kingston,” I lulled, my head against his chest.
“Sometimes it’s safer to be able to deny knowing shit,” he breathed out.
“You would tell me if I needed to know?”
“Always.”
I exhaled in slight relief. “I can deal with that.”
King opened his mouth to say something else, but a creak in the stairs alerted me to someone approaching. “King, they need to talk to you.”
Lincoln.
King pressed a kiss to my forehead and left me with Linc, his hands coming up to cup my jaw as he examined my expression. “You weren’t able to sleep?”
“Woke up after a nightmare,” I explained. I grabbed his hand and brought us to sit on the porch swing, then looked towards the police. “Do they need to talk to me?”
“They want to.”
“Should I? Would it make it easier?” I whispered.
He exhaled. “They should fuck off. They have the footage from the security cameras already.”
Resting my head on his shoulder, I nibbled my lip. “Is the tournament still okay for tomorrow? I know there were a ton of news crews.”
“And even more tomorrow,” he mused. “Don’t worry about that, though. They are allowed to follow the actual match, but the rest of it is private. We can stay home, though, if you want—”
“No,” I whispered. “I want to go. I am not going to let him ruin my favorite place.” Lincoln nodded and pulled me close. This time when I dozed off, no nightmares came.