STRANGER

Blunda

The act of keeping ones eyes shut to ignore or refuse to see something.

♡

"Get that fucking thing away from her, piccolo mierda." Killian is frothing at the mouth, his muscles visibly tensing and twitching.

"Your girl? You're fucking full of it Knight! Just who the fuck do you think you are?" The words are all but gritted out, the cold metal jabbing into my temple ever so often.

"Sei un cadavere vivente, Jason. I'm going to enjoy peeling the skin off of those fingers. And it wouldn't be the first time, cagna. So don't worry, I have experience.

The man standing a few feet away from my bed looks like someone I'm really, finally meeting for the very first time.

I thought I'd seen him at his worst. But I guess I was mistaken.

Killian looks as if he's reached the precipice, and the final trigger?

That final push that sent him over that proverbial cliff and into the pit of darkness surrounding him?

Me.

Why did I have to run?

He said he could explain. I should have waited.

Now we wouldn't be here.

The image of us wrapped up in dark sheets that wear nothing but his fragrance and something that's just naturally him assaults my thoughts.

Strong arms caging me in against his bed, his weight, heavy, but most welcomed. That's where I should be right now.

Not here.

A gun pointed at my head, and him looking like he's drowning in a pit of helplessness at the sight of me.

But more than that, the anger in his eyes just about rivals everything else going through his head, all of it flashing at light speed in his now dark orbs.

And at this point, I'm wondering if I'd been a fool not to have been even a tiny bit scared of Killian. Because right now, he looks like a man who's ready and willing to commit murder.

"You think I'm scared of you? You!"

The weight of the pistol is lifted from my temple with those words, releasing the strain in my neck after being bent at an odd angle, trying to keep as much distance from the offending object practically being stabbed into my brain.

"You're the one who's been hiding, not me!" Jase continues with his rant, all but shouting now, the gun pointed at Killian.

But Killian remains stoic, cold and unflinching. His burning glare never faltering from Jase's accusing stare.

Two of Jase's idiot friends rush into the room at the raised voices and halt at the entrance.

But even then, Killian still doesn't falter. His anger mounts into rage, the pulsing waves sending palpable heat across the room.

"Put the fucking gun down, Jason." For someone who's been silently seething, Killian's voice is coarse and raspy. "Cazzo! I'm going to enjoy draining your miserable life out of your body." The almost incoherent words are a hiss, but they sound more like a promise, if not a threat.

Jase in turn, cockes said gun, an evil smirk on his face. "You come into my town. Show me up in front of my boys. Ruin my street cred. Steal my girl, and think I'd let it go just like that?"