Page 147 of Lawless Rivals

I walk past him.

“Saint.”

“Leave it,” Dane mutters.

Rafe ignores him and calls after me. “I need to tell ya something.”

I keep walking, light a cigarette, needing something to ground me, and head straight for the cabin, passing the smoldering table.

The door is unlocked, and the lights are off. I move to the kitchen and pull the fridge open, grabbing a cool bottle of beer, hooking the cap against the counter edge, and flicking it off.

It spins across the floor and disappears. I drink until the cold numbs my throat, but it does nothing to kill the anger knotted inside me.

I slam the bottle onto the counter. Foam jumps up the neck. My hand stays wrapped around the glass.

Then I let go before I break it and drag my palm over my face, pressing hard enough to pull at the drying blood on my mouth.

My spine tingles. Awareness spreads across my scalp in a sudden, silent rush.

“Saint…”

I turn around, heart thumping to find Keira getting to her feet from the couch, her expression stone cold.

Chapter 37

Keira

He only has to say my name with that gravelly voice of his, and every sensible part of me melts.

There’s a cut above his right eyebrow, fresh enough that my gaze finds it before I force it away.

I didn’t come here to care or ask what happened.

“I want to set the record straight.” My voice comes out steadier than the rest of me.

I point to the bulky bag near the couch, the one I’d dropped before he came in.

“Then I’m leaving Black Heath.”

He takes a step closer.

My hand snaps up, knowing it’s safer if there’s distance. “Stop. Just hear me out, and then I’ll go.”

He goes still, and I sense it’s not because he wants to. I recognize the restraint locked through his shoulders, the way his jaw muscles tighten.

The entire cabin seems smaller with him facing me, all shadow and dried blood, a man who’s clearly been in a brawl.

“Keira.” My name comes out in a low rasp.

“No, Saint.” I press my nails into my palm, needing a sharper sensation than the flutter in my chest. “Let me speak.”

His eyes hold mine, and when he nods, it almost undoes me. Saint Tallon doesn’t obey anyone. However, he’s giving me a voice.

I hate that my father never did, while this dangerous man standing in front of me, covered in blood, is offering me the respect of his silence.

I breathe through my nose and keep going. “I shouldn’t have let you get close to me.”

His expression hardens, and his forehead creases.