Hands curling into fists, Drew pointlessly struggled against Knox’s psychic grip.
“I’d like to say that, in your shoes, I would walk away and let her enjoy the happiness she’d found with another, but I’m not sure if that’s true,” said Knox. “I know I’m a ruthless bastard. Whereas you … you truly believe yourself to be a good, honorable person. But wouldn’t a good, honorable person tip their hat and walk away in such a situation?”
Drew ceased struggling and lifted his chin. “If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”
“I’m not going to kill you.” Because Tanner had been right. It would impact Harper’s life. Clarke was nothing to her, and he needed to stay nothing to her. Knox didn’t want any of her thoughts centered on the hellcat. But Knox couldn’t guarantee that he’d have the same restraint if such a thing happened again.
Experimentally, Knox shot a laser of hellfire out of his finger. He saw understanding light Clarke’s eyes. “I gave you the chance to get rid of it yourself.” With his psychic hands, Knox twisted Drew, slammed him face-first into the wall, and held him there. “This shouldn’t take long. But I won’t lie to you, Clarke, my demon wants me to make it last. And, well, I’ve decided to give it what it wants.” Knox tore open the back of the hellcat’s shirt. “Do feel free to scream.”
Drew hissed. “Do your worst.”
“I will.” Knox was quite sure the hellcat meant to suffer in silence. But the moment Knox honed that laser of hellfire onto the tattoo, Drew screamed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Fire thundered to life in front of her. Harper looked up from the sofa, where she was embellishing her new jeans with rhinestones and diamantes. There was Knox; body stiff, shoulders square, dark stare fixed on her.
“So, you’re back,” she said, keeping her tone even and resisting the urge to ask if Drew was dead.
“It would seem so,” Knox said silkily, pouring himself a gin and tonic.
Choosing to ignore that snippy response, she took another rhinestone from the box at her side. When Knox had disappeared with Drew, she’d wanted to reach out and try to calm him, but she’d worried that if she showed any concern for Drew’s welfare it would only anger Knox further. While she couldn’t find it in her to give much of a rat’s ass about the hellcat after the shit he’d pulled, she couldn’t feel good about anything that would upset Devon.
Having glued the rhinestone onto the back pocket of her jeans, Harper reached for another. The box also contained crystals, gems, beads, sequins, sash, lace, and other appliques. She’d started personalizing her clothing when she lived with Lucian. They traveled light and weren’t always able to afford new clothes. At those times, Harper would simply revamp her old ones.
She’d decided to work on her new jeans because she’d needed a distraction. She’d needed to think about something other than whether she’d have to explain to her friend that her older brother was dead. Mostly, though, she’d needed something to stop her from stressing over what Drew had said about Asher. None of it could be true. None of it.
“The hellcat’s alive,” Knox told her, sensing she wanted to know. He’d dumped Clarke on Jolene’s doorstep; trembling, teeth chattering, sweat and blood gleaming on his back—and minus a series of memories, including the one of Knox’s ability to pyroport. And Knox felt absolutely no remorse for it.
He’d given Clarke enough warnings. The male’s sister had warned him. His own Prime had warned him. Still, Clarke had ignored them all. It wasn’t like the hellcat was unaware of Knox’s merciless nature. He’d known what he was risking. If he’d thought that Harper would save him from Knox, he’d thought wrong.
Hiding her relief in case he misinterpreted it as her caring for Drew, Harper said, “I’m guessing the tattoo is gone.”
“You guessed correctly.” Knox took a swig from his tumbler. He’d exorcised much of his anger when he “toyed” with the hellcat. But as he looked down at his calm and collected mate, who didn’t appear in the slightest bit remorseful, he felt that anger building once again. “You should have called for me when you realized that Jolene and Drew had played you. At the very least, you should have walked out of that bedroom.”
From the way he was glaring at her, looking all self-righteous, it was clear to Harper that he expected her to feel guilty. While he had reason to be upset, she refused to feel shamefaced when she’d only been trying to fix the complicated situation they were in. It wasn’t like she’d arranged some kind of secret meeting with Drew, was it?
She was betting there had been numerous times when Knox had been alone with women who coveted him. She hadn’t freaked out on him, and it pissed her off that he was looking at her like she’d cheated on him or something.
Feigning calm, Harper rummaged through her box in search of a tiny skull head. “I decided to hear him out because I wanted him gone. This whole thing isn’t just hurting you, Knox, it’s hurting Devon. I wanted to save you both that pain.”
“It didn’t work, did it?” Knox clipped. “Drew had no intention of leaving Vegas, Harper. He simply wanted an opportunity to convince you to leave me.”
“Well, I know that now. But I didn’t then.”
“Would you even have told me about it if Tanner hadn’t already done so?”
“Of course I would have told you—I had nothing to hide.” Putting her jeans aside, Harper crossed her legs and folded her arms. “I also have nothing to prove or justify, so you can stop looking at me like I somehow betrayed you.”
But that was exactly what Knox felt: betrayed. “I told you that I didn’t want you near him. I made that very clear. And what did you do? You had a private conversation with him in your old bedroom. I swear, Harper, if I ever hear that you’re alone with him again—”
“Don’t threaten me,” she hissed. Bristling, her inner demon unfurled and pushed against Harper’s skin, ready to jump in and defend her.
“I’m not threatening you,” he said, voice low. “I’m making the situation abundantly clear, since it seems that you haven’t listened to a single word I fucking said on this. I didn’t kill Clarke just now for the simple reason that I don’t want him on your mind or to impact your life. But I only have so much restraint in me. If he tries to get you alone again, I will kill him.”
“You don’t think you’re overreacting just a little?”
“Overreacting?” Knox’s hands curled. “He wants to take you from me.”
“Just like Alethea and plenty of other women wanted to take you from me.”
“If you’d wanted to kill them for it, you would have had every right. An ‘overreaction’ is the very last thing I would have called it. You chose to deal with it in a different way—I respected that decision, even though I hated what their actions did to you.”
“But you didn’t order them to stay away from you, did you?” Raising her chin in challenge, Harper rose from the sofa. “You expect me to stay clear of Drew, but I’m sure there were times when Isla or Alethea or other women that wanted to get in your pants went to see you at one of your offices. I’ll bet you didn’t tell them to fuck off and keep their distance. Am I right?” He didn’t respond, but she knew she was right. “Thought so. You certainly never called out to me, so why the fuck would you expect me to call out to you? It’s not like Drew’s a physical threat to me.”
“Those situations were different.”