Quiet Chaos - Keta Kendric Page 0,33

in danger, so he couldn’t stop me any more than my husband could.

When we made it to the cliff of the staircase, Arjen found a way to jump across us. The woman was flailing about, and I had curse words firing off like fireworks.

“They picked the wrong one to fuck with,” I mumbled. “Think I’m supposed to let some fucking shit like this slide. Fuck…that!”

“Mecca please let her go,” Arjen whispered harshly. He somehow pried my hand from her head, and pieces of what I think were extensions were stuck between my fingers. If they weren’t extensions, she could look forward to one hell of a headache.

“Mecca, please calm down,” his voice eased into my ear as he readjusted and gripped me in a strong hold from behind. The woman continued to cry out in the background, but her words were chopped apart by her cries.

“Julie, go home!” he yelled towards the woman as he continued to keep my amped-up body in his tight hold. I didn’t fight him. He probably outweighed me by a good hundred pounds and was a foot taller.

“That’s right, Julie, take your hoeing ass home and think about what else I could have done to you. Consider yourself lucky.”

Those were the parting words I gave her as she limped down the rest of the stairs clutching the railing until she made it to the waiting guard.

She hobbled across the living room aided by the guard who cupped her arm like he was helping an old lady across the street. Her clothes were torn and disheveled, and her hair was all over her head, revealing that I had done more damage than I’d realized. My eyes fluttered closed as my rage refocused on the big overgrown asshole with his arms locked around me.

“Arjen. Let me go. Right fucking now,” I demanded, my voice calm but deadly.

“Only if you stay calm,” he replied.

“You got some nerve, asking me to stay calm, you son of a drunk bitch!”

He tsked. “So beautiful with a wicked tongue and beastly temper. Calm, love, stay calm.”

“I’m going to show you all the calm in the world, as soon as you let me go,” I hissed between gritted teeth.

“No, you’re not.”

A sharp gasp escaped when I was lifted and tossed swiftly across his sturdy shoulder before he carried me back up the steps. And if being manhandled wasn’t shocking enough, he smacked me across the ass to prove he had all the control. He was so damn tall that my inverted positioning gave me a view of the moving floor below that appeared about a mile away.

Stunned, I couldn’t find my voice to protest. He proceeded through our bedroom door, ducking to ensure he didn’t scrape my back and ass against the top of the door frame.

He stopped at the foot of our bed, and stood there, contemplating releasing me from the cage of his hold. My breathing remained harsh, but it had leveled off a bit.

“I’m going to put you down, but you have to promise to be calm. Promise me, Mecca,” he demanded.

I wasn’t doing a damn thing. All I wanted was to find something big and heavy and bash his ass over the head for getting me so upset, and to think that I had come home looking forward to seeing him.

My mind was not only enraged, it was in an upheaval, attempting to figure out why I even cared about who he had flings with. I didn’t need an old wise woman or man to tell me that you didn’t get this upset over someone you didn’t care about. What I didn’t understand was where it had come from.

“I can stand here all night, Mecca. The view is magnificent,” he said, his tone sounding laced with lust.

“Okay,” I relented. “I’m calm. Now put me down.” You fucking gargantuan asshole.

“I heard that,” he said. “You’re cursing me out in your head.”

“Let me the fuck down. Right fucking now,” I seethed, my words sliding out as a harsh whisper. “How was that, you jackass?”

The motherfucker started whistling, perfectly fine, standing there with me across his shoulder. The idea that my weight wasn’t of any consequence to his strength lingered in my head and had me thinking about his muscles and his strong body.

Priorities, I reminded myself. I was supposed to be searching the room for something to bash his damn head in with.

“I’m letting you down, Mecca. Don’t fight me because you won’t win.”

His warning had gone in one ear, and

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