Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
"Call them over," one of his buddies says. "We'll see who can last."
Crap.
"Yeah, bitch," the one looming over me says. "Call your little security guard over. See if he can protect you from what I'm going to do to you and your little friend when I get you alone."
I lift my gaze, hoping like hell that Jareth or Lemmy is paying enough attention to realize I need help. Instead, the breath gets sucked out of my lungs when I look up…directly into Teo's piercing blue eyes.
They lock on mine, rage and something else—something vast and as hot as the sun—burning in the depths, and I'm sucked into a maelstrom I haven't felt in six years. It cracks me wide open and splits me apart, leaving me trembling.
"Mateo," I whisper, his name shaking on my lips.
He's here. He's really standing in front of me. Why?
He doesn't say a word to me. Not one. He simply grabs the jackass who told Zoya to call security by the collar and flings him like a ragdoll. I cry out as the man goes flying, only to crash into a table a few feet away.
His friend doesn't fare any better.
Teo yanks that one up by his throat, tossing him aside with a growl. He lands on his ass beside his buddy.
"You," he snarls at the jerk in the wrinkled suit. "Apologize. Now."
The man stares at him blankly.
"You threatened her," Teo says, hauling himself up to his full height. And God, he's grown since I last saw him. Back then, he was big and handsome but boyish. Now, he's a giant, every inch of him carved from granite. There's nothing boyish or immature about him. He's intimidating as hell.
The five o'clock shadow on his sharp jawline gives him a wicked, dangerous edge I like a little too much. The tattoos running up his corded forearms are striking. The way his suit jacket clings to every single muscle in his shoulders is just unfair. God, he didn't just grow up. He grew so damn beautiful I want to cry.
"Apologize. Now," he grits out, his hands clenched.
"Fuck you and the bitch."
"Wrong choice."
Teo snaps his arm back, smashing his fist into the man's face once. It happens so fast that I don't even see it coming. The drunk guy definitely doesn't. Bone crunches, his nose breaking on impact.
Another soft cry escapes my lips as he crumples like a paper doll at Teo's feet, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
"I called the police," the bartender says, hurrying over to us. He eyes Teo warily. "They're on the way."
Teo ignores him, his eyes locked on my face. "You okay, butterfly?" he asks me, his voice soft.
I jerk my chin in a nod, too stunned to speak.
"Zoya?" he asks, checking on my sister.
"I'm fine."
He stares at me for a long moment, shaking out his hand, but he doesn't say anything else. He just watches my face, staring like he's trying to imprint the vision in his memory.
"Thank yo–"
"Hire security. You need it," he interrupts before turning abruptly and walking away.
I gape after him, shocked silent.
What the hell just happened?
Chapter Three
Teo
"Is that Teo Kirby?"
"Holy shit. Did Teo Kirby just get into another fight?"
"Fuck," I mutter, shouldering my way through the crowd as my heart pounds like a jackhammer against my ribcage, fury still coursing through my veins with every hard thump. I want to turn right back around, snatch that little prick off the ground, and keep hitting him until I forget the look in Nadia's eyes.
For a split second, she was afraid. The moment she looked up, seeking help dealing with him, I saw the fear and anxiety in her eyes. For the first time in years, I was standing in front of her, and she was afraid.
I didn't think. I just fucking reacted.
If he didn't want me to put my hands on him, he never should have called her a bitch. He never should have threatened her.
He never should have put that look on her face.
No one threatens her, least of all some drunk prick who can't comprehend that he'll never be good enough to kiss her shoes, let alone buy her a drink.
She's so goddamn beautiful it hurts. I should have expected that. She's been beautiful every damn day of her life, but up on that stage, she was something else. Her hazel eyes were bright, her dark hair gleaming under the lights. She looked like a little fairy princess.
I've only ever seen her glow like that once—right after I kissed her. Right before I crushed her.
She was in love up there, happier than ever.
I always knew she was meant to sing. She's loved doing it her entire life, but I don't think she ever let herself believe it was something she could do for her whole life. Back then, her desire to sing was a secret she only shared with me.