Chapter 20: King of Deception: Chapter 20

My blood is raging in my veins.

I’ve kept quiet, because I know that Preston doesn’t realize I’m on the phone. But I heard Arabella’s cries, the words he said to her.

I am going to kill Preston Wingate.

I don’t mean those words figuratively. I mean Killian and I are going to make him disappear. Gone. Vanished. No trace.

I walk into Bella’s apartment, through the kitchen and around the island, and stop dead in my tracks.

She’s lying in a heap on the floor, her face swollen and stained with tears, bruises blooming all over her body.

I’m not just going to kill him, I’m going to tear him limb from limb, scatter him so far across the world, they’ll never be able to reassemble his body.

Without a word, I scoop Bella up in my arms and carry her over to the kitchen. She curls into me, her sobs muffled by my chest.

Here is the thing about me. I know how to play a fucking long game.

So, am I killing Preston today? No.

Am I going to whisper in that motherfuckers ear the pain that’s coming his way… you bet your fucking ass I am.

“I’m just going to get you some ice, sweetheart,” I whisper into her hair.

“I don’t need ice,” she croaks, and I know, just by the sound, that his hands were around her throat. Anger is surging through me, crashing over me in waves.

I set her down on the floor against the cabinet and do a quick inspection. Bruising on her neck, her face, her arms.

Sliding open the drawers, I get out two ice packs. The first goes on her neck, the second on her cheek. I lift her hands to hold both packs in place, and then I call Luke.

He doesn’t pick up.

I call back.

Still nothing. I call again.

On the third go, he barks into the phone. “What?”

“I need you at Arabella’s now.” And then I hang up.

“He’s with Mason,” Arabella says her eyes sliding closed.

A bit of surprise slides through me. Maybe I should care that all of my plans on that front might fall through, but I don’t. Am I going to lose tunnel access? My friendship with Luke?

I can’t feel bad about either. All I care about is Arabella.

She opens her eyes again. “If Mason comes here, all my plans and all of yours could be ruined.”

“Don’t talk, sweetheart,” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I know you want to get your brothers back together. And I want mine to get access to the Kincaid tunnel. But that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that Preston gets what is coming to him and that you are safe.”

Her eyes widen even as the bathroom door swings open. We’re crouched by the fridge, mostly blocked from the island and I stay down.

Does Preston think he’s a big man, beating up a woman? He’s about to find out how real predators hunt.

And how some like to play with their prey…

“Where the fuck are you, Arabella?” he spits. “I told you what was⁠—”

I stand up. “Why don’t you tell me?”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Lord Griswold? What are you doing here?”

“Just Gris,” I take off my suit jacket then, folding it and placing it on the counter. Then, I start to remove my tie. “Why don’t you have a seat, Preston.”

“But… what… why?” He remains standing, looking at me with absolute confusion. Stupid fuck doesn’t even understand he should be afraid. But I’ve got nothing but time, so I’ll play along.

“What am I doing here? Well… let me see. Before you, I was in business with Kincaid. And by the way, I have first-hand knowledge of how, when Mason changes his mind, he pulls his support with barely a blink of an eye.” I give him a wolfish grin.

He’s still not getting it, as he gives me a conspiratorial eye roll. “Trash. All of them.”

My teeth grind together. “But unlike you, I have developed a plan for winning their support back that does not involve beating up women.”

He takes a half step back, his eyes growing wary. Finally. “I didn’t know you knew Arabella.”

“I’ve gotten very close to Luke Kincaid. He has been… concerned by your sudden entrance into his beloved sister’s life. He’s on his way now.” I’ve begun playing with my food.

“I…” Preston starts edging for the door, sensing the danger. “It’s not like that. A man has to keep his woman in line⁠—”

I’m around the island with my hand at his throat before he’s made it two steps. “Did you think you’d get away with this? That you could touch her and not pay?”

I push him toward the open-concept family room, as he stumbles and falls, crashing into the coffee table, which cracks into a hundred pieces when his weight lands on it.

“Shit man, I don’t know why you care.” He rolls on his side, trying to get up but he’s slow. Far slower than me.

It’s not fair. He probably gets all his exercise on his daddy’s yacht. But me? I like scrapping. I’ve done it all. Wrestling, fencing, boxing, kickboxing. Helps release the aggression.

And I’m on him again, before he can even make it into a crouch. I pin him down, how I’m guessing he pinned Arabella. I want him to taste it. The fear.

I don’t give him an explanation, instead I crack him a good one in the jaw, but I do grit out between clenched teeth, “You’re going to suffer. I’m going to make you hurt like you’ve never hurt before.”

He tries to fight but I outweigh him, out muscle him, outfight him, and I easily subdue him again. “But before I hurt you, I’m going to let Luke have a go at you.” And then I ease back, with another smile that should frighten the shit out of him.

“What the fuck man?” He says, flexing his jaw. “What’s she to you?”

I don’t need to tell him shit.

But I look back to find Arabella standing there with wide eyes, ice in both hands, which have dropped to her sides. “Put the ice back on your bruises, luv,” I calmly tell her. “And then come sit on the couch. You must be exhausted.”

A knock sounds on the door. My brow furrows. That was quick.

“Delivery,” a voice calls through the open crack in the door I never closed.

“Leave it in the hall,” Arabella rasps, a few tears leaking down her cheeks, and then she does as I asked and comes to curl up on the couch.

She folds herself into the tiniest ball that both makes me ache and pisses me off even more.

Preston starts to struggle again, but I subdue him with a hand at his throat. “Hold still, you motherfucker.”

He does, his eyes wide with fear because he knows what’s coming. Finally, some sense from this fucking guy.

We don’t have to wait long before the door swings open. “Why is there sushi on the floor in the hall?” Luke asks. I hear the crinkle of the bag as he picks it up.

And then I hear it hit the kitchen floor. “What the actual fuck?”

“What’s wrong?” Another male voice asks. Mason. Fuck. The whole charade is blowing open now.

I knew this could happen. I can only hope he doesn’t take up the fight with me so that I can’t give Preston what he so richly deserves.

Triston is going to kill me if Mason doesn’t do it first.

“Mason?” Arabella looks up, more tears leaking from her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I turn to see Mason’s hands ball into fists. Who is he going to hit?

But before I find out, Preston clocks me with a decent blow across my cheekbone.

Didn’t think he had it in him, and I might respect him slightly more, but it only gives me permission to bring my fist down, right between his eyes.

He’s out in an instant.

I stand up and move to Arabella. I don’t care if Mason is watching, the secret is out now, so, scooping her up in my arms, I sit back down with her curled on my lap.

She burrows into me again, curling so small with her legs drawn up to her chest, that I can fit my arms completely around her.

I drop my swelling cheek to the top of her head and hold her close. “I promise you. He’ll never touch you again.”

She doesn’t respond, just nuzzles closer.

But Mason is glaring at me. I ignore him. If Preston was prey, Mason is the pride leader, and I am the lion encroaching on his territory.

And me and him, we’re about to fight for dominance. There is no telling who might win.