Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(67)

“You’re not capable, Kona.” She took a step, her voice softer, but her anger saturated that calm tone. “I’m not an idiot. I see how your eyes wander. I see the attention you get. And that’s fine.”

Kona stood up then, gaze whipping to her like he knew a threat was coming. Keira ignored that look, ignored how straight he held himself, how he stood with his feet apart ready for an attack. “What do you mean, ‘that’s fine’?” He managed a smile that was both hopeful and suspicious.

Keira blinked and the image of the redhead and Kona’s mouth on her chest had her squirming. “You do what you want. I will too.”

The smile dropped from his face.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You think you’re the only one to notice me? You think I don’t get offers? I have choices, Kona. You’re not my only option.”

“Who, Keira?” His voice was calm, too calm and Keira knew that expression; she recognized his anger, the vivid, suspicious imagination. She guess that inside Kona’s head were paranoid images that probably made his stomach roll: Keira’s mouth on an unfamiliar chest; her hands sliding up shoulders, arms, too small to be his. He took a step closer and Keira didn’t back down from that frown, from the hard, uneven breath that shot from his flared nostrils. “Who?” His voice was louder then, so sharp and demanding that Keira flinched at the sound.

But she wasn’t a coward and she’d never been threatened by his temper. In fact, most times, she responded to it, got off, just a little bit, on it. More than she’d like to admit, she loved making that temper worse.

“None of your f*cking business. Just go, Kona. Leave me alone. I’m leaving. Maybe I’ll stop by a bar. Maybe I’ll make a call.”

“Like hell you will.”

She didn’t bother responding to his jealous command, didn’t even give him the annoyed little glare she normally leveled at him. Instead, Keira shook her head, intent on putting space between them. But she barely managed two steps, maybe three before his grip was on her arm, spinning her around, giving her no space, no chance to back away from him.

“Don’t you walk away from me.” Keira could see the wild desperation in his eyes; the possessive nature that flicked forward. It thundered a dichotomy of emotions into her mind—rage, insult, passion.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re acting like a crazy person.” She jerked back from him, spilled beer on his shirt and Kona’s hold loosened. “I’m not yours, Kona. I’ll never be yours.” She knew the lie was weak, pathetic, she knew that the temper stirring on his face was growing and though she knew it was stupid to provoke him, she couldn’t help herself. Some dark, quiet part of her loved how eager, how frantic he looked.

Kona’s frown was severe, and from his body, Keira could feel his rage, the quick whip of anger that she loved seeing from him. She was playing with fire, standing so close to it that she felt her skin blister. She stepped back, their burning glances hard, challenging before there was enough space between them.

“Where are you going?”

Keira felt drunk, fueled by insult, by lust and the words were out of her mouth before her brain had given them permission to leave. “I’m going to check on those other offers.” She walked backward, a calculating, forced mock of a smile on her face. “You know Luka looked good tonight. Maybe I’ll go see what he’s up to.”

Keira could not take that look, the quick slap of frustration, rage, something she put out of her mind as quickly as she glanced at it, turning from him, knowing that it was Kona’s shout of rage echoing in the alley, bouncing off the bricks and empty pavement. She could feel him coming, each step getting faster and the bottle in her hand lowered, as Keira readied herself for his hands on her arms, to do battle and not think of the consequences.

When he spun her around, jerked her toward him, Keira lifted the bottle, a threat, a promise that put a quick, taunting smile on Kona’s face. “Gonna hit me, Wildcat? Go ahead.” Kona slapped his own face, swelling up to her, daring her to react. “Do it, you little coward. Hit me.” Another slap, another step and Keira’s temper broke. He was too large. Too much altogether and Keira lost her sense, let reason shift from the forefront of her mind. She wanted that condescending smile off his face.

Keira swung hard and the bottle in her hand cracked against Kona’s cheek. It took him to the ground and when he looked up at her, eyes wide, confused, Keira fell to her knees. “Shit. Kona. Oh God.”

Blood poured from his cheek and Keira tasted the bitter, sour tang of vomit on the back of her tongue.

What did I do? What the hell did I just do?

She couldn’t touch him. There was too much blood and even though Kona reached for her, needed someone to steady him, Keira retreated, scrambled off the ground.

“Keira, wait…” Kona held his hand against his face and that sick taste in her mouth doubled. Behind her she heard the scatter of activity; the quick thunder of feet on the pavement and then Luka was next to Kona, cursing, scared, glaring at her.

“What the f*ck, Keira? You did this? Are you crazy?”

Kona pushed against his brother as he got to his feet and Keira moved around them, ran for her car, tears blurring the light above her and the outline of her Sunfire just feet in front of her. “I… I’m sorry,” she said, over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”