by Jayce Carter
“Go to your nearest hospital. You should be seen.”
Her lips pulled into a grin at the fact that he hadn’t pegged her voice yet. “I was hoping for a check-up from you. A very personal exam, since I slept through the last one.”
There was silence before Marshall’s warm chuckle said he’d caught up with her game. “I should have realized it was you. Give me one second.” His voice became muffled, as if he’d covered the receiver as he spoke to someone else. A moment, then the closing of a door. “Sorry. I’m glad you called.”
“Even with my terrible humor?”
A creak, then another of those laughs that made her think about his charming smile. “Even with it. How are you?”
“Good. Are you busy? I didn’t mean to interrupt. I don’t want anyone dying because you’re distracted by me.”
“Don’t worry, I’m only mid-heart surgery, but they can wait.” At her pause, he kept going. “I’m kidding. I was between cases. What are you doing?”
“I paid someone so I could punch people.”
“I think maybe we need to limit your time with Kieran.”
She leaned against the wall, cheeks aching from the grin. Somehow, that effortless back and forth, that flirting, felt so natural. “Well, it is his fault. He said I needed self-defense lessons.”
“Probably a good idea. Besides, if he annoys you too much, you’ll have options.”
“So, are you going to take me out some time?” Tiffany asked it with the same forwardness she usually had.
“After you learned how to punch people? I don’t know, it seems risky.”
“What if I promise not to use those new skills on you?”
“I think we could work that out. I’m off most nights by seven unless there’s an emergency. Why don’t you send me a message when you’ve seen what works for you? I’ll pick you up from work, if you want.”
That would mean avoiding Kieran, which would be good. She wasn’t hiding things from him, or going behind his back, but she also didn’t need him to see her leave with another alpha.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
By the time she’d hung up, Tiffany couldn’t hide her grin. The idea of doing something so ordinary as going out on a date with Marshall made her wish she had someone to call and tell, a girlfriend to go out for coffee with and gush to.
Since that wasn’t available, she turned and headed into the martial arts studio where her class was.
She supposed punching things was a good second-place option.
* * * *
Kane wanted to lick the sweat from Tiffany’s neck. Maybe that was weird, but fuck if his body cared. The sweat caught the light and watching her pummel the punching bag had him hard as stone and trying not to show it.
The last thing he needed was someone calling the cops because some man was walking around with a boner.
Still, that passion? The strength and the grace in her movements? It became clear Tiffany had taken lessons before. He supposed that helped explain why she’d reacted with the knee strike so quickly.
Though, it also made him wonder if they wanted to teach her more. She did enough damage with that wit and sharp tongue. Not sure they wanted to add broken bones to the bruised egos she could dish out.
Still, when she’d refused to respond, he’d damned well tracked her down. Hadn’t taken much, since he’d worked out she wasn’t at home, wasn’t at Kieran’s, wasn’t at work. She’d mentioned the self-defense, and he knew Kieran worked with this studio.
She shook the hand of the teacher before walking out, tipping her water bottle back to take deep gulps.
“Ignoring people is rude, doll.”
She jerked back at his voice, water sputtering from her lips as she leaned forward and coughed.
Fuck, drowning her hadn’t been his plan.
Kane slapped his hand against her back to help her cough up the water that must have gone down her windpipe.
Great job, idiot. Nice start to making things better.
She pulled in a gasping breath before tossing a glare. “What are you doing here?”
“You were ignoring my messages.”
“And you got from that that I wanted to see you?”
“No. I got from that that you needed to see me.”
“Trust me, I don’t.” She turned and started to walk away, moving quickly.
Which he found adorable in a way that would probably get him used like one of the punching bags inside, so he kept it to himself and fell into step with her instead. “You gonna ignore me? You can’t keep that up forever.”
“Want to bet? I ate a watermelon that made me sick when I was three and haven’t touched one since.”
Fuck, she’s stubborn.
“Where are you going?”
“To my apartment.”
“Why? Honeymoon with Kieran over?”
She cast him a withering side-eye. “I need my address book.”
“You living out of fucking boxes for a year?”
“Kieran hired movers for next week. They’ll put everything in storage, but I forgot my address book.”
Mention of the other alpha had Kane shoving his hands into his pockets, trying not to recall anything about the man. Like his nice fucking house, or his stupid perfect face. Who cared about him?
Who cared if Tiffany was living with the fucker, or if a new bite mark rested over the hickey Kane had left, or if Kane knew there was no competition between them?
Nope, don’t care at all about any of that.
They walked at a brisk pace, the conversation drifting off. Kane didn’t do apologies. He’d never had people he cared enough about to offer them. Most of the time, it was easier to snap first than risk anything else.
The idea of losing Tiffany over that had brought him there, though. Sure, they didn’t have a lot between them, but he’d prefer something to nothing.
Still, admitting shit wasn’t something he liked to do. He didn’t want to tell her about the scars he’d spent thousands of dollars in ink to cover up.
When she’d touched them, when her face had fallen, he’d gone back to default asshole-mode. He’d regretting it the moment she’d walked out and he’d realized how deep his words had lashed. A quick ‘sorry’ wouldn’t cut it.
She wouldn’t let him get off that easily. No, she’d want the truth. She’d want him to fucking reopen those wounds and share shit. If not the whole story yet, she’d at least expect some tidbit to explain why he’d acted the way he had.
They turned the corner to her apartment building, and he didn’t need help finding it. He’d known where she’d lived already, not to stalk her, but because he’d needed to drop packages at times. The idea that she wouldn’t live there anymore left a sense of loss.
Kane pulled open the door for her before she could reach it, but at least her glare had lost some of its bite.
“So how long are you planning on being pissed?”
“I don’t know. How long are you planning on being an asshole?”
He shrugged as he stepped into the elevator beside her. “Being an asshole is my natural state, so I don’t think it’s ever changing.”
She faced the doors as they shut, and he took the opportunity to slide behind her, a breath between them.
His lips neared her ear to whisper. “Besides, I think you like me this way.”
“I don’t think I like you at all right now.”
“No? Because you liked me when my finger was inside you. Want to try it again? Could hit that stop button and take as long as we want.”
A tremor ran through her despite the way her hands gripped into fists as if she could fight it. “Why would I want to try it again? As I remember, it didn’t end that well.”
His lips brushed her ear, his tongue snaking out to flick the lobe. “I remember it ending with your cunt squeezing down on my finger as you came. Seems worth trying again.”
She crossed her arms, stance defensive.
He nipped her lobe, d
aring her to keep ignoring him. “You think crossing your arms scares me off? Ah, doll, all it does it press those tits together. You think I can fuck ’em sometime? Because you’d look pretty beneath me, tits pressed together around my cock.”
And there went her chest when she inhaled on a harsh breath.
The ding said they’d reached their floor, but neither moved.
Tiffany didn’t pull away, and Kane had no intention of giving in first. He’d fuck her in that elevator if she let him. The opinions of random neighbors didn’t mean shit to him, not when pitted against the temptation of her body.
He dragged the tip of his nose up her throat to behind her ear. “You smell so fucking delicious. Tell me yes, doll. We’ll go into your apartment, and I’ll make it worth your time.”
She leaned backward, the move so subtle no one would have noticed if they watched. The elevator dinged again, the doors starting to close, and it must have woken her up. “Thanks, but I like my orgasms without a chaser of regret.”
She walked away, and like an idiot, he stood there dumbstruck long enough that the doors started to close again.
He slid out before they could, following that hellcat of an omega down the hallway. He’d had enough of this, and the throbbing of his cock said he needed to fix it.
Kane caught her and turned her, her back sandwiched to the door of her apartment.
Tiffany tried to knock his hands away. “Don’t you push me around.”
Kane pinned her to keep her still. “Listen up, doll. I’d rather get over this by fucking you until you ain’t pissed anymore, but that ain’t your style. So, let me be clear. What happened? I’m sorry, okay?”
When she tried to hold on to her anger, when her eyes didn’t soften, Kane leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t ask about the scars, please? I don’t like talking about ’em, don’t want to discuss ’em, okay?”
Those blue eyes of hers lifted enough for him to pull back, and there it was. Yeah, Tiffany was tough, and she was a ball buster, and she was a snarky little asshole when she wanted to be. She was also fucking sweet. He might have snarled at the pity in her face, but it was better than anger.
Plus, if she felt bad for him, it meant she had to care a bit, right? He’d take what he could get.
Her hands, pressed against his chest, softened and slid to his sides. “And you won’t snap at me anymore?”
“Oh, I’ll probably still snap, but you might like it when I do. Why don’t we go on in there and you let me make it up to you? You could try to ignore me during if you want, see who breaks first?”
Her fingers tightened around his waist and pulled him closer. “Okay, but trust me, I’ll win.”
He leaned in for a kiss, but she twisted so his lips landed in her hair as she unlocked the door, then turned the knob.
They tripped forward when the door opened, and Kane wrapped an arm around her waist to steady them, ready to lift her against him, set her on the first surface that would hold her and get his mouth on her.
When they turned, though, they both froze.
Everything sat in disarray in the apartment, with furniture turned over and the contents of drawers strewn about.
Someone had ransacked her place.
The wreckage of Tiffany’s apartment sat before her, and she didn’t know what to do.
Kieran and Sam were on their way over, Kane having called them after checking to make sure the house was clear.
“Fucker came in through the fire escape. Broke the latch on the window.” Kane didn’t sit, gaze moving around as if still on alert.
Then again, the last time they’d thought themselves safe, they’d run into someone, hadn’t they?
“I’d say you could pick some of it up if you wanted, but Sam should take a look first.”
Tiffany shrugged, staring at the remnants of her life. “It doesn’t even look like my stuff anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like someone ruined it all, like they changed it all.” She shook her head and leaned forward. “I don’t even want to touch any of it, to be honest.”
He set a hand on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be okay. Probably some asshole who realized no one had been here in a couple days. I know everyone who sells anything, so once Sam gets a look, once we realize what went missing, I’ll find anything they took and get it back.” The offer was sweet, Kane’s attempt to make her feel better.
It didn’t, though.
Randy had come through and uprooted her life, changing everything. She’d gone from her simple days to living with Kieran, being under contract and at risk of registration, and now? Now someone had destroyed the tiny bit of normalcy she’d had.
The sofa she’d picked up at a yard sale and reupholstered sat flipped over, cushions askew. The desk she’d organized, that she’d put silly fabric-covered corkboard squares above had its drawers open and papers spread about.
The life she’d created, that she’d worked so hard for, and other people kept tearing it apart. How many times could she pick up and start over? How many times did she have to weather people ruining everything for her before she got what she wanted?
The door opened, no knock, but she didn’t startle. The space wasn’t hers anymore, wasn’t a sanctuary where she could let her guard down.
Sam walked in, already in detective mode. Kane squeezed once more before moving over to speak quietly with Sam.
Kieran dropped to a knee in front of her, his fingers setting beneath her chin. “Hey, girl. Are you okay?”
Tiffany gave him a weak smile. “Yeah. Just tired of everything I have getting torn apart.”
His lips tipped down. “We’ll find who did this. Between Sam and I, we will figure it out.”
“And me,” Kane added.
Kieran turned, gaze going hard. “I think you’ve done more than enough.”
“Like fuck. If someone stole her shit, we both know I got a way better chance of finding it than you do.”
“Criminals stick together, I suppose.” Kieran rose to his feet, and the testosterone in the room could have choked a person.
They crossed the space between them with sure but slow steps, the tension crackling in the air.
Great. After everything else, now they were going to fight? Hadn’t she dealt with enough?
This was exactly why she’d worried about this, because even if she didn’t want to choose, they’d force her to.
She rose, not wanting anyone hurt. Territorial alphas could do a lot of damage, and they had both tried to claim her. “Settle down.”
Neither noticed her.
Kieran’s lips were peeled back, his voice low. “Why are you even here? She’s dealt with enough without slumming it with you.”
“Oh, and you, who had to get her in a fucking contract to have a shot? You think you got any room to bitch at me?”
“You aren’t good enough for her, Kane. You can try to leave marks on her all you want, but you will never have her.”
An answering snarl tore from Kane’s throat, so feral and primal Tiffany’s blood froze. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Stop this!” Tiffany tried to rush forward, to get between the men who stood chest to chest, a breath from violence.
A strong arm wrapped around her, yanking her back. Sam’s voice rose above the snarling. “Don’t get close. They might not even realize it’s you, and no matter what they might do to each other, if they hurt you on accident? Well, that would be far worse for them.”
The alphas broke whatever leash they’d had, and the power behind the first punch shocked Tiffany.
She’d never been around violence. She’d sparred, but she’d never seen alphas fight, never witnessed any real conflict. Kieran and Kane didn’t play around, didn’t circle slowly. They hit, countered, blocked and dodged with a speed and strength that turned her stomach.
“Knock it off!” She yanked against Sam’s grip, but he wouldn’t relent.
Tiffany nodded, and Sam turned, hesitating as if trying to figure out how exactly to get between them.
As the fight went on, Tiffany worried her bottom lip. This was all her fault. Kieran and Kane were fighting because of her, because she hadn’t made a choice, because she couldn’t make a choice. They hadn’t been friends, clearly, but they hadn’t thrown punches, either.
Again, everything was being torn apart. Her life. The futures she wanted but couldn’t figure out how to get. Her apartment.
Even two of the alphas she’d come to care for didn’t listen to her at all, too busy trying to win her, to claim her.
It overwhelmed her, and she struggled to breathe through it. She couldn’t sit there, not as blood sprayed from Kieran’s bottom lip after a hit from Kane, as it splattered over the side table in her living room. She couldn’t help clean up her place, or either of the men, after it all calmed down.
The idea exhausted her. She needed a break, needed time to think, to close her eyes and be still.
So, as Sam threw himself into the fight, Tiffany slipped out of the door.
Maybe if she left, they’d stop this.
And if they didn’t? At least she wouldn’t have to watch.
Chapter Nine
“She isn’t yours!” Kieran drove his knee into Kane’s side, to be rewarded with a grunt from the other man.
Their skills being evenly matched both pleased and irked him. On one hand, beating on a man who couldn’t defend himself never gave Kieran any joy. On the other, if only a good beating would make the other alpha back off.
Each time Tiffany left his sight, she seemed to end up around Kane. Each time she ended up with Kane, she either returned reeking of the alpha, or she got herself in danger.
Either way, Kieran had grown sick of it.
“She ain’t yours either, you stupid fucker.” Kane’s coarse words grated, the slang, the way he didn’t care if he sounded like low-bred trash.
