Page 38 of One Bad Knight

My tone turned as cold as my insides. “That’s bullshit. Love doesn’t exist. It’s a weapon people use to get what they want.”

“That’s not true.” A flush appeared on her cheeks, and a storm entered Kat’s eyes. “You are only saying that because you’ve never loved anyone and no one has ever lo—”

She cut herself off before she could finish, but I knew what she meant to say. I advanced on her until her back was inches from an art-covered wall, but she stopped short to keep from hurting the pieces. Still I leaned into her space and bared my teeth.

“Go ahead. Say it. No one has ever loved me.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

I cut her off. “You think I’m hurt because no one has ever loved me?” My heart pounded in my chest. Heat ran to my forehead and my jaw clenched. “Princess, it’s the best thing to ever happen to me. It means no one can hurt me or use me. And here you are, trying to please people for no goddamn reason, going against your every instinct to choose your own path.”

“Love doesn’t destroy us, Gatsby,” she said in a low voice, her eyes searching mine. “It saves us.”

I got the message radiating from her dark eyes, loud and clear.I could save you.

My hands clenched and unclenched. “You really are a sheltered princess. Love hasn’t saved you. It’s imprisoned you. It might even kill you.”

A line formed between her brows. She didn’t understand what I was saying anymore, but it didn’t matter.

“Don’t you want love?” she asked. “Some part of you must crave connection.”

“Don’t get any ideas, just because we fucked.”

She flinched as if I physically slapped her. And the pain it caused me made it almost impossible to breathe. But I needed to disillusion her to what our situation was. Even though it caused a piercing pain to run through my heart.

“If I had to choose betweenlove,” I said, the last word with dripping derisiveness, “and going back to the Order of Luxis, a place I vowed I would die before ever returning to, I’d choose the Luxis.”

I took a step back then, giving Kat space. She breathed in deep through her nose, a cold, foreboding look on her now. “Right, I see,” was all she said.

“Good. Now finish up, and we’ll go.” I turned and walked away, as if I didn’t feel cracks forming in every part of my being. I told myself I was setting her free. Teaching her that freedom was the most important thing you could have, while making sure she didn’t form any attachment to me.

Because if she found out I was the one who killed her father, she might fully break.

15

Kat

After speaking to my uncle, I hadn’t planned on going to party at Syn, but now there was no way I wanted to go home to be alone with Gatsby.

He communicated in no uncertain terms I was just a roll in the hay, and he had no feelings for me, and planned to keep it that way.

And that made me angry. Angry that everyone was telling me what to do. Angry I was being told not to love, not to follow my passion.

Angry enough that when we entered the club, I directly ordered two shots and downed them both without offering him anything. The rebellious girl inside me clawed her way out. Gatsby shot me a wary look as if he knew trouble was ahead.

Leaving him behind, I sashayed my way over to the group of my artist friends, who all threw their hands up and catcalled at my entrance to congratulate me for the show. I gave a little bow, before grabbing Viet’s arm and pulling her onto the dance floor. I demanded more shots, and the dancing set my skin ablaze with energy as I fell into the rhythm of the music, where nothing could touch me.

I could feel Gatsby’s gaze glued to me, as usual. He continued to stalk the outskirts of the place. If he was going to watch, I’d give him a show. My hips easily found the beat of the music. I pulled one of the other artists close to me for a dance. Jackson happily obliged. I circled my fingers around his neck, getting close. Jackson pressed against me, proving to be an excellent dancer. Viet shot me a strange look from over his shoulder. As if she knew I was deliberately putting on a show. So, I closed my eyes, and ground harder against Jackson. We were just friends, but Jackson went with the flow and the music.

Then he was gone.

My feet lifted off the floor as I was bodily hoisted over someone’s shoulder. “Hey, let me down.” My fists fell against a familiar muscular back, my hands useless as marshmallows thrown against a brick wall.

I would have hoped that people would intervene if a girl was being abducted in the middle of a dance floor. But either half of them were laughing, seeming to think this was all a fun play, and the other half seemed to be struck by fear. I could only imagine the look Gatsby cast anyone who dared think to intervene. I caught sight of Viet suppressing a knowing smile as she turned the other cheek.

Rude.If she was going to be my friend, I’d have to have a chat with her about how we handled abductions.

The thrum of the music faded as Gatsby carried me to a dark corner of the club. He set me against the wall, trapping my body with his own. “You enjoy being a brat?”