"That's my daughter," he told me, his voice deep and scratchy, his accent thick. "This is family business. You do not need to interfere."
I saw red, and with a roar, charged again.
"She's my family, you bastard!" I cursed him, shoving him up against the wall of the building. "I'll kill you if you ever lay a hand on her again! I'll kill you, you bastard. I swear it!" I was screaming by the end, spittle flying, hands going for his throat and squeezing.
He was turning blue before he managed to dislodge me. Another blow to the head that I'd feel later.
Later. But not now.
Now I caught his face with four knuckles with enough force to knock out some teeth.
"You her boyfriend?" he asked me, gasping it out.
"I'm her family," I shouted, moving in close to start in on his stomach. It was my most vicious move, usually a last resort, but always effective.
I started working at him again, same spot as before, with a mind for doing some permanent damage. I grunted with the force of the quick fire blows, just wailing on him.
He growled, grabbed my hair, and started punching the side of my head.
I had to retreat. Too many more hits like that, and he'd knock me out. That was not an option.
I looked around, searching for something to bludgeon him with. I wasn't trying to fight fair. I wanted to destroy the bastard, by any means necessary.
There was a jagged wooden plank sitting on top of a dumpster, thin enough to grab and swing. Perfect. I went for it, grabbing it and swinging it around just before he hit me, taking me back and slamming me into the wall.
I dropped the plank, throwing my arms up to protect my head.
I'd gone into defense mode, and I wasn't happy about it. With a roar, I head butted him, shoving as hard as I could.
He sprawled out on the ground a few feet away, and I went for the board.
I swung with all my might, catching him hard on the shoulder as he rose, my body rocking off balance with the force of it.
He tried to wrest the makeshift weapon away from me, but I held on tight, twisting until I had it free of him, then circling to swing again.
I landed three more punishing blows before he started to move away, trying to run.
I went after him. I needed him to hurt bad enough to remember the pain, and remember why he wanted to avoid going near her again. Pain had a short-term memory, so I needed to make an impression that would last.
I needed to break some things. Specifically, some of his bones.
I whacked him in the back of the head, and when he was down, I crunched his knee, catching the front of it with the board.
He turned into an enraged bear after that, coming at me again, nearly knocking me out with the first hit.
Fuck. I blinked several times, fighting to stay conscious.
I kicked out at his hurt leg, making him scream, and went at him again with the plank.
I knocked him down with a heavy blow to the head, and he lay still for just long enough to make me think he was out.
I stood over him, honestly contemplating taking his life. He could never hurt her again, if he were dead. It was more than a little tempting.
The moment passed as Bianca called out my name.
I ran to her.
She was sitting up; those tragic eyes of hers wide as they sized me up.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
If I weren't so out of breath, I'd have laughed. "That's what I should be asking you. Are you okay?"
She nodded, looking far from it. She looked rattled and terrified. Face ashen, tone shaky. I'd kill him.
"We can't stay here anymore," she told me. "We need to disappear again."
I helped her stand, pulling her into my chest. "Why?"
"That's how he found me. A caseworker told him. Gave him the location. We can't trust anyone."
I took a few deep, steadying breaths. "Okay. We'll figure it out. We'll be okay. We just need to go back to the house, grab a few things, but we can be off the radar by morning."
As I spoke, I turned and glanced back at where I'd left him, out cold on the ground.
He was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SAME DAMAGED ROOT
PRESENT
STEPHAN
James sat at my right, giving me very serious eyes. "I know you've been in a tough position with me, from the start. With your need to protect her, and having no way of knowing whether or not she'd need protection from me. That's all past now, though. We don't ever need to make things hard for each other. I want you to know that I won't ever try to come between you. I know how necessary you are to each other."
That was good. Anything else wouldn't have worked. You couldn't separate the inseparable.
Still, he was a good man for trying his best to understand us.
I tried my best to explain it to him.
"We were throwaway kids," I told him quietly. "It's a tough thing to be, though at least we had each other. Looking back at it, I can tell you right now, I know for a certainty, neither of us would have made it, if we hadn't found the other.
We are fundamentally connected. We met when we were broken seeds, when we were still being formed into something. We had to grow together to survive. Some part of us will always be like that, connected, growing together. We're different flowers, but we were nurtured from the same damaged root."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MY PROMISE TO YOU
PAST
STEPHAN
I stepped out of the shower, briskly toweled myself dry, and pulled on fresh boxers and shorts.
Some ass**le at the club had barfed on the dance floor, spraying half the crowd, but luckily I'd been close enough to the hotel to run back and change.
I was still shirtless, toweling my hair dry and wondering where I'd left my phone, when I heard Bianca's voice in the adjoining room.
"Ste-Stephan?" she called out haltingly.
I came out of the bathroom, surprised that she was back, and so early. "Hey, Buttercup. Some knucklehead got barf on my shirt, so I had to come back to change." As I spoke, I moved toward her.
The room was dimly lit, but as I got close to her, I caught a clear look at her face.
And went cold, then hot, my heart pounding as I pulled her into my arms.
I knew, just knew, that something was horribly wrong. She looked so lost.
"Oh, Bee, what is it?"
She started sobbing. My heart seized up in my chest, and I began to shake and cry myself.