The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 31

Chapter 27-1

Zara

The second I open the door, Locke steps inside, bringing the cold, rainy night air with him. His broad shoulders fill my narrow doorway so completely that the already-tiny apartment seems to shrink around his massive frame and presence.

The door closes behind him. I lock it automatically, fingers moving through the familiar sequence of deadbolt, chain, second lock, and when I finally turn around, I find him watching me. Really watching me.

The fury that I saw through the peephole is still there, dark and cold beneath the surface, but when his eyes land on me, it shifts into something else entirely.

Worry.

His gaze goes immediately to my cheek. “Let me see that.”

“I’m fine, Locke.” I put the peas back on the rapidly-darkening bruise. “I’m icing it, so no real harm done.”

The look he gives me is so unimpressed that it would be insulting if it weren’t so absurdly attractive. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Well, that’s just rude.”

“Well, it’s also accurate.”

And God, there it is again. That impossible thing that he does, where concern and irritation become tangled and twisted together until they sound almost the same. It should be annoying, but instead, it makes something inside me unclench for the first time since seeing Knox standing inside my new life.

Locke must see something in my face, maybe how freaked out I actually am, because he suddenly gentles.

“Zara,” he says, that amazing voice dropping a couple of octaves. “Let me get a look at you, OK? I just need to know if I should take you to the hospital. That’s it.”

It occurs to me just how much I want to be close to him, so why am I pretending otherwise? What’s with all this stupid resistance and playing games? I want to lose to him… so I decide to go with it. At least for

now.

“OK,” I say, putting the peas on the table. “Come see.”

He steps closer immediately, one large hand lifting my chin, tilting my face toward the light. Those incredible eyes narrow, and I sense that the anger is officially back.

“What else did he do to you?”

“Ummm.” I cough a bit. “Well, he grabbed my arm and pushed me back into a brick wall.”

The muscle in his jaw jumps, and something dark flashes across his face. Then he rolls up my sleeve, takes in the purple finger marks. He sighs, gently turns me around. When he starts to lift my sweater, I whirl to face him.

Clam

“Hey!” I exclaim. “What the hell, Locke?”

“I’m checking for bruising on your back,” he says. “So show me.”

“Locke -”

“Locke nothing,” he says. “We do this the easy way or the hard way, baby. Your choice, but no matter what, I’m getting eyes on you.”

Knowing that he’s deadly serious, I gulp, then slowly turn around again, raising the sweater a bit. I feel more than hear his breath catch as he takes in the angry, scraped flesh. I drop my shirt, turn around again, and open my mouth to say something… but I don’t know what to say. Maybe I’m OK, or maybe It’s not so bad.

“Don’t.” The word comes out of his mouth rough and deep.

“Don’t – what?” I ask, utterly bewildered.

‘Don’t say it’s nothing. Don’t say you’re fine. Don’t minimize what that fucker has done.”

For a second, neither of us says anything. From my side, I’m wondering just how the hell he always seems to know what I’m thinking before I fully know. I’m about to ask him that very question, when he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

Immediately, I know who he’s calling.

“No,” I say, practically clutching my pearls. “Oh, no, no, no.”

He ignores me, naturally. The man has ignored approximately ninety percent of everything I’ve said since meeting him.

“Cobra,” he says, holding my eyes. “I’m here.”

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