With All My Heart - Emilia Finn Page 0,8
man. Funny. Sexy. Smart. I’ll blow your fucking mind in bed. I’ll tell jokes and make you laugh every day. And if my jokes suck, I’ll do something else to make you laugh. I’ll proudly parade you around town. I’ll take care of you. Make strong babies with you. Mine, all mine.”
“Bryan, you need to stop.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Chantelle?”
Bryan groans in my ear. “Swear to Christ. Why does he say your name like that? I find a man on you like this, I wouldn’t stand there like a fucking pussy and say your name.”
“What would you do?”
His serious eyes come back to mine. “Before or after I slammed his skull against the bricks?”
Nerves and excitement skitter beneath my skin. “You’re not like Shane, are you?”
“Not even a little bit. Not even fucking close.” He leans in and nips at my jaw. “If you want me – broke, potty mouth, rough edges, but so much fucking passion your hair will catch fire – come to the tracks. Come find me tonight.”
“Bryan…”
“Uh-huh. Keep saying my name like that. Practice. It turns me on.”
“Chantelle!” Like Shane found a pocket of bravery he never knew he possessed, his hand shoots out and takes mine. Yanking me from between Bryan and the school wall, he slams me against his chest and commits what may be his stupidest act ever. “Get off her, trailer trash.”
Fuck! His head’s about to hit the bricks.
As Shane attempts to shove me behind his back, I attempt to step in front of a loaded gun, but true to his word, Bryan’s hand shoots out and wraps around Shane’s throat. Picking him up and slamming him to the wall without jostling me at all, Bryan presses his hand to Shane’s windpipe and squeezes. “If you ever grab her like that again, if you ever touch her again, I’ll slit your fucking throat, Turdsky.”
“Get off me.” Shane’s words are an attempt at strong, but in reality, are barely a whisper past a crushed larynx. “Get the fuck off me, trash.”
Bryan leans in close. “She’s not yours. You’re holding onto her for me. For safekeeping. But make no mistake, she’s not yours, fuckface. She’ll never be yours.” He turns his fiery eyes to me. “Did he hurt you?”
Bryan Kincaid is a lot of things. Sexy. Confident. Funny. Terrible at math. But one thing overshadows it all. He’s scary. And not necessarily the good scary. I’m talking, if it was me he was threatening death, my bowels would’ve already evacuated. “No.”
“He didn’t hurt you?”
I shake my head.
“His hand didn’t bruise your arm?”
Yes. I think it did. But for the sake of Shane’s life, and the fact he’s normally a pussycat, I shake my head. “No.”
He turns back to Shane. “I don’t have a three strike system. You’re already out, fucker. Don’t touch her again.” He pushes hard until Shane’s head raps against the wall, then he turns to me and winks. “Come find me. I promise you won’t regret it.”
Chapter 5
Bryan
I stand with Geo on Friday night beside a 1983 Chevy pick-up truck. A dark blue tarp lines the bed, and a shit ton of ice fills the space to keep the beer cold in this unseasonably stifling fucking heat.
I don’t drink.
I don’t drink, ever.
I can’t afford the cost of a beer, nor can I afford the risk. I won’t drink and drive; I especially won’t drink and race, but Geo’s not racing tonight, so he leans against the green truck and sips at his Coors. “She didn’t come.”
“She might. It’s still early.”
He leans back lazily and shakes his head. “You need to get your head in the game, man. You can’t be thinking about her while you’re out there.”
“I’ve been thinking about her for years. Don’t sweat it.”
“Bry!”
I snap my angry gaze to his. “I didn’t start winning until I started thinking about her out there. Trust me, George, I’ve got this.”
He scoffs. “George. Look at you scolding me like I’m three. Get the fuck outta here, Kincaid.” He nods toward the far end of the field. “You’re up against JT tonight. You ready for that?”
I look down to Geo’s leg. “I’ll get him back for you. Don’t worry about it.”
He scoffs. “I’m not worried about my leg. We all go into these things knowing we could get hurt. It’s just part of the game. Hell, I’m not even mad at him. If I’d thought of it first, I woulda pulled the same move. Nobility ain’t my middle name, but I’ll be pissed if you get