Shit happened? What happened? Is she safe? Is she okay? It would be pointless trying to drag the information out of Gio if he’s heading to practice, so I send him a quick text back letting him know I’ll take care of her when I hear hard knocking on the front door. I switch my screens to the outside cameras close to the carriage house and realize that Gio didn’t mean he was dropping her off later—butright now. Asshole.
I’m up and out of my chair and heading towards the front door of the carriage house before I ever hit send on the text. When I unlock the door and it swings inward, Juliet doesn’t even bother to offer me a greeting as she storms inside and heads for the kitchen.
“I should get you your own key,” I tell her absently as she begins rifling through the cabinets and drawers.
She doesn’t respond as she pulls out a small glass and a bottle of vodka from the cupboard. Her hair is in a messy array, her clothes wrinkled, and obvious frustration in every barely restrained movement of her body. I blink as she dumps a good amount into the glass and then takes a long swig. Then, I wince as she screws up her face. Yeah, the shit I got ain’t nothing fancy. It’s practically cheap gut rot from the sewers, but she keeps drinking.
“What the hell happened today?” I ask, sure there must be a reason for her obvious unsettled behavior.
Glaring at me over the rim of her glass, Juliet finishes off the last of what she poured for herself before answering. “Megan attacked me today,” she practically snarls.
I go still. “What?”
Unaware of my rising fury, Juliet rolls her eyes and pours herself more of the vodka with a grimace before shoving the bottle back into its place. “Yeah, she convinced a few of the girls on the volleyball team to help her out—though I didn’t find that out ’til after the fact.”
My eyes scan her face, noting a few new bruises and marks on her arms, her neck, and peeking out from the collar of her shirt and jacket. Her hand shakes a bit as she lifts the drink back to her lips. I move across the short distance, gripping her wrist and stopping the movement before she can make it.
Her eyes widen and Juliet looks up at me. “It’s been a long day, Lex,” she mutters. “I need the drink.”
“What did they do to you?” I demand.
She rolls her eyes again. “It doesn’t matter, I plan to get even anyway.”
“I’ll help.” It’s not so much of an offer as it is an oath.
Her crystalline gaze lands on me and hardens into ice. “No.”
“No?” My frown dips into a scowl. “What do you mean ‘no’? They fucking hurt you. That’s not allowed.” Even if Nolan hadn’t already laid claim to her ass as one of us, this wouldn’t be accepted.
Megan White has already become an issue, but this blatant attack on someone we claim—on Juliet—is far more than disrespect. It’s a call for war.
“That’s right.” Juliet lowers the glass back to the counter and then reaches over with her free hand, taking my wrist between her fingers. “I said ‘no’.”
“She—”
“Will get what’s coming to her.”
I stare down at the woman before me. Juliet isn’t tall, but neither is she petite. Objectively, she’s of average height and weight, but next to me, she seems so fragile. Maybe it’s because I have my father’s proportions—over six feet, wide build, and athletic frame. She only comes up to my shoulders and it forces her to tip her head back so she can stare at me.
My hand remains on her wrist. “She hurt you.” I say the words again as if I need to remind myself that Megan’s actions have signed her death warrant. I’d kill for this woman. I’d do unspeakable things for her.
“She didn’t do shit,” Juliet replies. “She tried and she failed.”
My gaze lands on a dark bruise that’s just beneath her chin. I reach up and press my thumb into her jaw. She doesn’t flinch because, of course not. Juliet doesn’t show her pain. She’s like me in that way—she hides everything because she doesn’t believe anyone cares if she’s hurt or not.
I do.
Leaning down, I press my mouth to that tiny bruise. Her sharp inhalation is music in my ears. “I want to kill anyone that would even think of putting their hands on you without permission,” I whisper against her skin.
Juliet releases the glass she still has clutched in one hand on the counter. I can’t know what she’s thinking as her arms come up and encircle me, but I want to. I’ve never wanted anything so badly as I do to find myself inside of her mind, to wrap myself up in her and never leave. I want everything—her thoughts, her sorrows, her hate, her pain.
Nuzzling against her, I press her back against the counter and cage her in. Her body molds to mine. Her groin is pressed to the front of me, breasts against my chest. Her scent fills my nostrils. My hands move down and find her hips. I lift herand she goes easily, legs parting as she wraps them around me, clinging.
Juliet tips her head back and I lift her until our mouths connect. Her tongue invades, sliding against mine—tentative at first and then harder, demanding. She kisses me like she wants to eat me alive and I shudder under the onslaught of pure, unfiltered lust that assails my insides.
For years I’ve dreamed of having her this way, of having her any way I wanted. I couldn’t have ever imagined what it would feel like to let her have me, to know she desires me the same way. I could disappear into her forever and I would be content to stop existing if it meant I would never be separated from her.
Juliet pulls back, panting for breath. “Alex…”
