Her small arms tighten around my neck, and I sigh.
“You don’t have to go anywhere, no one here will hurt you, please let me look at you.”
I allow emotion to break in my voice, wanting her to hear my sincerity but also knowing that whatever happened it could’ve been worse.
After a few short moments, she relents, unwinding her arms and dropping down to her feet with a wince. My jaw clenches when I take in the severity of her injuries.
“Did Bastian do this?” I growl and her eyes snap to the ground.
I’d seen some odd behavior from him with Malia. Maybe if I hadn’t stepped in, she’d have done us all a favor and killed the dickhead.
Now that I think about it, Xana seemed guarded when we had our conversation in my car. I assumed it had to do with me being an asshole and her being tired of it. Maybe if I’d paid better—
No. None of that will do any good.
Xana crosses her arms around herself, trying to find some comfort to hold onto. Her eyes are glued to the ground, and she nods.
“Yes,” she croaks.
The sound of her voice is as painful to hear as it must be for her to speak. My heart shatters into dust on the granite flooring, making room for the rage to take over.
“She needs a doctor,” I grind out, looking at Nathaniel, who frowns at me.
He’s moved close to Chantelle and he must sense what I’m feeling. Nathaniel has been strict about weapons around his woman, which is almost funny, since he’s a whole-ass weapons dealer.
“She can stay here,” Nathaniel says to me, wrapping a protective arm around Chantelle’s waist.
Breckin snorts and my attention snaps to him.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” Breckin yells. “Are we forgetting what the hell is going on and that bringing strangers here isn’t the brightest idea?”
I step around my sister, my patience completely snapping. Pulling my weapon from the waistband of my jeans, I send a bullet into Breckin’s arm. I smile when he staggers back from the force, screams sound around me as I shoot off two more rounds: one in the chest, one in the thigh.
His giant body hits the ground with a loud thump and my feet are already moving toward the underground garage. The fury pulses in my head, drowning out the yells behind me as I go. I’m going to bathe in Bastian’s blood tonight for putting his hands on my sister.
Footsteps pound on the ground behind me and I whirl around, leveling my muzzle with the motherfucker trying to get between me and Bastian. Donovan scoffs then raises his hands in mock surrender. I purse my lips and lower my gun, then turn on my heel and continue walking as he follows silently behind.
I pull up to Bastian’s house, not caring if he knows I’m here. Donovan looks over at me and I throw the car in park.
“He’s mine,” I growl, not looking at him.
My hand falls to the gun that rests on my thigh, cocked and ready to unload into anyone who gets in my way.
“I’m just here to make sure clean-up is taken care of as quickly and easily as possible,” he says with a shrug. “You do you, boo.”
I level him with a glare and his smile grows. When he does shit like that, he reminds me of Malia.
Not saying anything, I roll my eyes and get out of the car, leaving it running. I charge for the door, kicking out at the weakest part, and it crashes open. It might have been unlocked for all I know, but why not fuck some shit up before we have some fun?
Bastian comes barreling down the stairs that lead to his living room, a lamp in his hand. I sneer at him and he comes to an abrupt stop when he sees me, nearly missing a step and falling. I rush him. Surprisingly, he pulls back his lips, baring his teeth and meeting me in the middle of the room instead of cowering like he normally does.
“This ends tonight,” I snarl.
Bastian raises the lamp, and the porcelain shatters as it smashes into my face, tearing my skin. With the whoosh of air that leaves him, the smell of alcohol assaults my senses. My hand reaches up, feeling at a cut on my nose and looking at the blood that now covers my fingers.
The adrenaline and rage have completely burned away any pain I may have felt from the hit.
My eyes snap up to Bastian and his eyes widen when I smile before I whip my head forward, driving my forehead into his. He grunts and nearly falls, righting himself just before he does. I lunge, sending us both crashing down onto a coffee table.