Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,17

a world that was causing her so much pain.

“You won’t have to worry about him hurting her again,” I promised, finally catching Blair’s attention. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

“You’re gonna protect her, right?”

I frowned, folding my arms across my chest. “I said I would.”

“People say a lot of things.”

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”

I watched her process my words in her head, and things began to make sense. It had always been just her and her mom. They’d been fighting and hiding and running from the world for Blair’s entire fucking life. Not able to settle anywhere or make long term friends for fear that they might find out the truth. And right at this moment, Blair was having to process the fact that the truth was out there, and there were very real people trying to hurt the one person she thought she could trust.

“No one has ever protected her before,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “Her mom ran out, her dad beat her, then there were the men.”

“You protected her,” I quipped. “You stepped in today, and you protected her.”

Her eyes fell to the bat she still had a firm grip on, and she frowned. “Did I really beat a man today?”

“You really fucking did.” I chuckled, seeing that sparkle of pride in her eyes.

“I fucking did, didn’t I.”

“You can also fucking watch that language,” I scolded, catching a handful of my brothers walking out to their rides. They were waiting for me. We had something to take care of, and I wasn’t about to fucking wait until someone died.

“You know where he is?” I questioned Junior as he fell in step with me.

He nodded. “Found him in a run-down apartment block just south.”

“Good, grab the van, we’ll follow you.”

The door clicked, the sound of rattling keys like a shot of adrenaline straight into my veins.

“Stupid… can’t even…”

“Bad day?” I questioned, stepping out of the shadows, the light from the kitchen barely grazing my face.

Paul Mathison jumped, stumbling as he spun around, falling back against the ugly mustard yellow kitchen counter. I guess at least it matched the cupboards. Maybe it was a trendy thing back in the 1930s. Back when this run down piece of shit apartment would have been in it’s prime. The carpet that ran through the place was only slightly better, though the bright red color was going to possibly save me a job later.

He tried to laugh off the surprise, tugging on his dark hoodie and steadying his feet. “Ah, Huntsman, right?” he questioned with a soft chuckle. “I’m familiar with your club.”

“Good, then I don’t have to explain why the fuck I’m here,” I threw back, stepping further into the light. “That’ll save time.”

My gun was leveled at his head within a second.

The change in his demeanor was instant.

The fear in his eyes visible, at least to me.

“Woah, woah, woah! Let’s talk about this!”

I laughed loudly, taking two large steps forward before he could even blink and throwing a punch, purposely missing with my right just to make him flinch and think he was safe before I drove my left right into his stomach, my fist finding that soft spot right in the center.

He keeled over, his nails clawing at the counter as he fought to keep on his feet while he dry-retched.

I opened the drawer nearest to me, reaching for one of the sharp knives inside. “She was just a little girl,” I spat, forcing the knife hard into the top of his hand. “Oh, sorry, does that fucking hurt?” I called over his screams of agony.

I took a step back, inhaling deeply, trying to slow my heart down and keep it at an even level though the entire situation already had me itching, my blood boiling with rage like it was trying to burn through my skin from the inside.

Paul, on the other hand, was sweating, his skin pale as he struggled to breathe through the pain. I hadn’t driven the knife in far, just enough so he would have to pull it out himself. Which he did a moment later, tossing the offending object to the floor in disgust and horror. I could hear my brothers chuckling and moving in the shadows behind me. I could feel them, keeping close, following each step I made cautiously.

My men—my brothers—had my back.

No matter fucking what.

They also knew that if shit hit the fan, if something happened and we were caught out, they were willing to face