Page 153 of Wicked Lord

“Well, according to the reports, he killed a young man. Do you know anything about that?”

“It’s not true. None of it is.”

Heavy footfalls jerked my head over my shoulder as a sharp, dark chuckle echoed behind me.

“Now that’s a laugh.” Brock appeared with a suited male at his side, the sight of my repulsive would-be fiancé sending a chill up my spine. He waved at the reporter, offering an ingratiating smile. “You’re not mistaken about that miscreant being a murderer, but you do have one fact wrong, young lady. The lovely Lorelei ismyfuture wife.”

Oh, hell, fucking no.

I opened my mouth to bite out a curse, but a flurry of bodies surrounded me before I could utter a sound. Killian, Slate and Gage loomed over the asshole, each one glaring down at the prim and proper oil tycoon.

“Get the fuck out of here, Haversham,” Killian snarled, shoving him back a step. “And next time, before you try to get my best friend tossed into jail, check your damned sources.”

He ticked his chin at a familiar form standing in the shadows, a few yards away from the circle of reporters. Bass.

What was Killian’s step-brother doing here?

Sebastian wore a shit-eating grin as he shot me a wink. I hadn’t seen him once this summer, not since he’d graduated.

What the hell were him and Kill up to?

“Get out of my way, before I have you arrested,” Brock barked at Killian.

With a grin, he stepped back. “See you in hell, asshole.”

Murphy jumped in a second later, placing himself between me, the guys and Brock. “Everyone, cool off. And you, Mr. Haversham, no closer to Miss Battenberg, or you’ll be the one arrested.”

“That restraining order is pure garbage,” he hissed under his breath before motioning toward the man beside him. “My lawyer will have it appealed before it’s even gone through processing.”

The female reporter’s curious gaze bounced between us, observing the whole hushed exchange from a few feet away.

“Now which is it, Miss Battenberg?” she called out. “Are you engaged to Axel Vanderhart or this gentleman?”

Was neither an option?

The front doors of the police station whipped open, drawing everyone’s attention to the top of the stairs. My breath hitched, all the air squeezing from my lungs.

Axel.

Dark circles marred the soft skin beneath his eyes, his button-down shirt crumpled from three nights of sleeping in the same clothes. His hair was tussled, and the typical bright glint to his eyes was missing, but he was still my Axel. And best of all, he was free.

My legs propelled me forward. Before Murphy could stop me, I snaked my way through the gathered crowd, shoving paparazzi out of the way to get to him.

“Miss Battenberg, please!” Murphy shouted, but I couldn’t stop.

“Axel!” I cried out.

From the top of the stairs, his light eyes met mine, and a brilliant smile melted across his lips. “Lore…”

I pushed my way through the remaining mass of bodies and leapt into his arms. His musky, citrusy scent invaded my nostrils as his warmth enveloped me.

“Axel, I can’t believe it.” I pressed a kiss to his lips, and the click-click of cameras erupted all around us.

As much as I hated to, I forced my mouth off his and curled into his side. We’d have to put off this reunion for later, away from curious eyes.

“Damn, blondie, it’s been way too long,” he whispered into my ear.

Hot tears filled my eyes, but I blinked them back before they spilled over. I did not need to be crying in front of all these reporters. “How did they get you out?”