My heart stops as I falter and peer at Steven.
He coughs, more blood pours out of his mouth, and I’m angry all over again.
It isn’t long before Steven’s face is unrecognizable, and my haze lifts. I’m dimly aware of a wheezing sound and a quiet voice. Then a pair of fingers close around my wrist, and I blink to find Steven clutching me, terror and fear written on his face. I draw my hand back to punch him again and spot Katia a few feet away.
Steven makes another wheezing sound, and I look back at him.
I release him and rise to my feet. Katia hands me a napkin, and I use it to wipe my chin and the spatters on my bruised knuckles. Then everything comes rushing back, and I hold myself still.
“Have them throw him out,” I tell Katia. “He’s not welcome here anymore.”
Katia bends down and hoists Steven to his feet.
His breathing is labored as she brushes past. As she rounds the corner, I storm to my office and step into the bathroom. I avoid the mirror above the sink as I wash my hands, then splash cold water on my face. The ringing in my ears is gone, replaced by a low whistle and heavy limbs.
I can still smell Steven’s blood when I step out of the back door and into the night air.
It lingers as I get into my car and turn it on.
After lowering the roof, I back out and drive off with the wind whipping steadily around me. I barely slow as the wrought-iron gates open, allowing me to race past. When I turn onto the side road, I grip the steering wheel with both hands and inhale mouthfuls of air.
I have never lost control like that.
Never indulged the urge to beat a client to within an inch of their life.
And if I hadn’t mustered up enough self-control…
I’ve taken plenty of lives without a thought, but something about the look in Steven’s eyes made me pause.
Under normal circumstances, a man like Steven is untouchable, but I wasn’t in a forgiving mood where the little shit was concerned.
Trying to put the moves on London is bad enough.
Ratting her out to Noah for refusing to sleep with him is another.
Any man with an iota of self-preservation wouldn’t have set foot in the club again, but Steven doesn’t seem to have much common sense.
I did the club a favor by revoking his membership.
I press down on the gas pedal, take the next turn a little too sharply, and merge onto the main road. The pale moon is high in the sky, and only a handful of streetlamps illuminate the empty stretch of road ahead of me. I press down harder, until the world rushes past in a blur of shapes and colors.
It still isn’t enough to outrun the unease that’s taken hold of me. I want to go back to the manor, drag London out to the car, and drive away.
I want to put as much distance between us and the manor as possible.
It won’t make a difference. Even with safehouses all over the world, I know there’s no corner on Earth we can go where my father wouldn’t hunt us.
That’s if our enemies don’t get their hands on us first.
Think, Mason. You’ve never met a problem you couldn’t solve. All you have to do is figure out a way to convince London to give up the baby.
A car honks as I race past it, and I ignore the sound.
I press down harder.
The disgust I felt earlier is slowly turning into quiet determination.
I can have Katia set up a safehouse abroad for London’s parents and have London join them there until she’s ready to leave the baby.