Page 111 of Velvet Corruption
I was close. So fucking close. I could practicallyfeelthe air vibrating around us, around the struggle, the crash of bodieshitting wood, the heavy, panicked breaths of two people fighting for control.
Ruby and a man I didn’t recognize at first, a man who was about to wish he’d never touched her.
My foot hit the bottom step. My eyes locked on her. The world shrank, focused, centered on one thing. Her.
My boots pounded against the hardwood, silent as shadows, moving as fast as I was, as fast as my pulse, as fast as my need to reach her.
I was there. I was close enough to see her face, close enough to see the fear and determination and anger.
“Kieran—”
My name, broken on her lips, a sharp twist of sound that lodged in my gut.
The fucker thought he was going to kill her. Thought I wouldn’t make it in time. Thought I wouldn’t do whatever it took to stop him.
Thought he could finish this before I got my hands on him.
I did know him. He had been watching her from across the street.
I hit him low, driving my shoulder into his ribs, my momentum slamming him sideways into the banister. The impact shook the house, the wooden railing groaning under the force. He let out a choked noise, caught off guard, but he recovered fast, twistingtoward me, swinging. I ducked, barely avoiding the hit, my blood roaring in my ears.
Ruby stumbled back, catching herself against the stairs, and I spared her a glance—just long enough to make sure she was standing, just long enough to see the way her eyes widened.
The guy lunged.
I twisted, catching his arm, driving my knee into his gut. He grunted, staggering, but he was strong. Bigger than me. Didn’t matter. I drove my fist into his face, felt the crunch of bone under my knuckles. He reeled, but he wasn’t done.
His hands scrambled for something—his pocket, his belt—a knife.
I barely had time to register it before he was swinging. Pain, white-hot, licked across my side. I barely registered it. The rage had settled deep, thick as tar, twisting through muscles, dulling the pain in my ribs, the sting at my side.
I snarled, catching his wrist before he could twist the blade deeper, forcing it back, using his momentum against him.
We hit the floor, hard, my knee pressing into his ribs, his arm twisted at an impossible angle. Ruby was saying something—my name, maybe, or a plea for mercy this fucker didn’t deserve. Didn’t matter. He’d come here to kill her. And I wasn’t going to let him walk away.
I didn’t stop hitting him.
I couldn’t.
Blood slicked my knuckles, warm and wet, but I barely felt it. The rage had settled deep, threading through my muscles, dulling the pain in my ribs, the sting in my side. The only thing that mattered was making sure this fucker never got up again.
He gasped under me, spitting blood, his limbs twitching weakly. His face was unrecognizable—swollen, broken, drenched in red. His chest barely lifted with each ragged breath. I could hear Ruby in the background, somewhere just beyond the haze, saying my name.
“Kieran.”
A whisper. A plea.
But I wasn’t done.
This was the kind of man who hurt people and never paid for it. I knew his kind, the type that walked free while the people they hurt carried their scars for the rest of their lives.
My hand fisted in his collar, dragging him up just to slam him back down.
Men like him didn’t get warnings.
Men like him didn’t get second chances.
I pulled my fist back again, ready to drive it down one more time—ready to end this.
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