Pulse (Page 42)

Kneeling beside him, Gavin yanked Dillon’s face within inches of his. He shook as he spoke, his breath a vicious whisper. “You better listen to every fucking word I’m about to say to you.”

“Fuck off, asshole,” Dillon grit out, staring into Gavin’s eyes, his breathing still labored. “You’re going to jail for this, motherfucker.”

Gavin quickly elbowed Dillon’s mouth. Trying to jerk away, Dillon winced. Now Gavin wasn’t the only one with a split lip. Gavin gripped Dillon’s hair tighter, a sick smirk twisting his mouth. “If you report this, sure, I might go to prison. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking kill you. But just know this”—Gavin paused, trying to tamp down his sudden urge to once again choke Dillon within inches of his life—”I’ll get out one day. Oh, you bet your ass I fucking will. And when I do… nothing will stop me from killing you. Not even the insane love I have for the woman you threw away will keep me from making sure you never take another fucking breath. So, consider this bit of information before you go running to the cops. If you know me at all, then you’ll know this isn’t an empty threat from a pussy who likes to knock women around. This is coming from a man. A man who’ll laugh all the way to the gas chamber as your mother cries all the way to your fucking grave. Do you understand me?”

Breathing hard, Dillon stared at Gavin and remained quiet. Simple resolution to the unanswered question. Another elbow to Dillon’s mouth.

“Do you fucking understand me?” Gavin snarled, his face curled in anger.

“Yes!” Dillon replied through clenched, bloodied teeth.

“Good,” Gavin replied mildly, standing. He started for the door, but before unlocking it, he turned, his eyes narrowed. “And if I find out you showed up to her job again, I’ll make sure it’s a closed casket funeral.”

With that, Gavin unlocked the door and pushed through the crowd. Without looking back, he heard the clamor of commotion taking place in Dillon’s office. Strike that. He heard Dillon yelling at everyone to get out of his office. The edge of embarrassment in Dillon’s tone carried through the air as Gavin stepped into the elevator.

On his way down, Gavin checked his watch. With less than five minutes to make it across town, he whipped his cell from his pocket and shot Emily a text to let her know he was going to be late. By the time he made it to his car, she’d replied.

Emily: I’ll be here waiting for you. Please be careful. No speeding! I love you.

Gavin pulled out of the garage. As he crawled through traffic, he couldn’t help but flick his gaze down to his cell. He reread Emily’s text over and over. Emotions flying high, Gavin was aware he had to walk into the café holding some semblance of normalcy. He just wasn’t sure he’d be able to. Thirty minutes later, he was about to be put to the test.

After finding a parking spot, Gavin stepped from his car, slid his hands through his hair, and made his way in. He hadn’t taken but three steps into the café when he spotted Emily. His breath faltered as it always did when he saw her sitting at a table and reading a book. It was then Gavin knew he was bound to her. He knew there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t give up for her. Hell, as long as he was inhaling the air around her, every day would feel complete. Today, he knew he would give up his freedom for her. His life. She was in his bloodstream, and he didn’t care if he spent the next twenty years behind bars, shackled in chains for what he’d done to Dillon. Gavin only hoped he could remove the shackles around her heart Dillon left behind, because no amount of kicking Dillon’s ass could rid her of the scars she had from him. Gavin knew he’d always wipe away her tears, but he desperately wanted to be able to wipe away her painful past.

As if she had sensed him, Emily lifted her head, a beautiful smile crossing her face when her eyes met his. Clichéd or not, her smile lit up the room like a ball of fire in a darkened sky. Clichés were created for her. End of story. Again, Gavin felt as though the breath had been sucked right out of his lungs. He watched as her smile fell away, her face becoming troubled as she stood. Damn it. Gavin shot a glance down at his clothing. Stuck in his head on the way over, he’d forgotten to fix himself. He knew he looked like a disheveled mess. He wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, and his shirt was untucked. Forget about his missing tie or the tiny specks of blood dotting the front of his crisp white button-down.

As Gavin moved toward her, raw power flowing from his body, Emily swallowed back the sick feeling seeping into her stomach. Meeting him in the middle of the crowded café, inches apart from one another, the voices surrounding her faded and figures blurred. His face blinded her to everything else. His breath was all she could hear. Though he wore a mask of cool passivity, his blue eyes said more than they should. They spoke volumes, inspiring an ache within Emily’s heart. She knew what he’d done. She didn’t need to ask.

Emily dropped her gaze from his swollen lip dappled with blood and stared at his shirt. Lifting her eyes, she met his steady gaze, and she could tell he was waiting for something from her. An approval possibly, words that would let him know she was okay with what’d happened. Not knowing how to begin, she simply looped her arms around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers.

Gavin pulled her into him, his hands gripping her waist and molding her body against his. “I had to do it, Emily,” Gavin breathed, kissing her softly. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I didn’t.”