Page 17 of One Bad Knight

Then before she could ask me anything else, I left. The doors shut behind me, and I easily scaled the tree back down, hoping she’d stay in bed.

She needed the rest, and I needed to get away from her.

Tonight, I’d get on my bike and drive out of the city and never come back. Forget Kat, and everyone I knew in this damn city.

Even as I thought it, I knew I was lying to myself. I couldn’t leave. Not yet, not until I knew Kat was safe. The She had nearly tore her body apart, but I had to protect Kat from the demon who wanted her.

And I had to do everything I could to make sure I wasn’t the one who tarnished her soul.

8

Kat

My eyes opened at dawn’s first light. At first, I’d thought it had all been a dream. But I knew it was all real when I found myself wearing sweatpants that weren’t my own, and bandages covering my arms.

Bear lay on my feet and regarded me with evident concern. I swear that dog was scary intelligent. When I tried to move, he immediately got up so I could more easily move. He jumped off the bed and sat down, as if waiting for me to get my wits about me.

Getting out of bed, I moved carefully so as not to jostle myself into any more pain, but I was surprised to find myself largely pain free. My bag sat on my desk, with everything still in it.

Not that I thought the boy, turned impossibly hot scary man, would rob me after all that, but I couldn’t rule anything out.

As I ran the shower, warming the water, I took a peek under my bandages. The stinging, raw scrapes of last night were completely gone. I peeled back the one on my inner thigh and found stitches, but the skin had already knitted back together, and the skin was bright red in the shape of a slash. I expected my head to pound after all the trauma it had taken yesterday, but there wasn’t even a trace of a headache.

I grabbed my nail scissors and easily snipped the stitches and pulled them out.

Had I imagined last night and bandaged up imaginary wounds? No, I’d definitely crashed my bike. I should be scratched to shit. Or at the very least, I should feel the remnants of a headache from where my head had been cracked against the ground.

Burying my fingers in my hair, I tried to make sense of things. But it felt like I’d undergone several bouts of whiplash. As soon as I saw the man at the club, he practically melted off my panties, before getting too aggressive with me on the dance floor, preventing me from looking at his face while promising to do impossibly sexual things to me in public. Then he disappeared, only to show up again when I was attacked by a little demon girl asking for my help who almost disemboweled me.

Then I woke up in what looked like a condemned apartment building, with no pants on and a grown man claiming he had to suck the poison out from my wound, or I’d die. Then he sucked on my inner thigh, dangerously close to my center, sending a myriad of intense and confusing feelings spiraling through my body.

My fingers tightened in my hair as I began to rock back and forth on the toilet seat. Steam swirled around me. Oh god, the feel of his mouth on me. I shut my eyes tight against the tumult of heat in my body that started shooting straight toward my center again.

Gatsby never looked up at me, just spread my legs, held me down, and sucked on me like there was no tomorrow.

Had my blood not begun to burn, making me queasy, I might have suggested he move a couple inches over and…

Another flood of heat in my body had me scrubbing at my face to stop the rest of that fantasy from playing out.

And though my gut recognized him in the club, it wasn’t until after he took me safely home that I could admit to myself who he was. The boy who may have killed my father.

No, Gatsby said he hadn’t killed him.

What was I supposed to make of all this?

That I needed to march into my Krav Maga dojo and demand a refund. I’d been preparing to defend myself, and I’d completely and utterly failed to do so. Aside from that one little move I pulled, I absolutely choked in the moment. I’d been going for years to feel like I could protect myself. But that sense of security I’d worked so hard to build was ripped away from me like a piece of sheer fabric.

Yep. That’s what I would do, I decided, as I stepped under the scalding stream of water. I would blame my sensei for what happened and forget everything else.

It was called compartmentalization, and it was all I could handle right now.

* * *

I sleptin too late to greet my uncle and cousins at the breakfast table, but I got a text reminder from my uncle’s assistant that tonight was a garden party gala at the home of one of his wealthier supporters, and he expected to see me there.

When I went out through the garage to let Bear out, I was surprised to find my bike parked in its usual spot. Albeit scratched up on one side, but it was in one piece. How the hell had he gotten it in here without being seen? There were cameras and guards everywhere.

After feeding and loving on Bear for an appropriate amount of time, I resolved to get out. If I didn’t now, I might never leave the safety of this house again.