Rille (Tribes, Book 2)

Chapter 20

Brielle had been too quiet, and she had slept too long on the train. So, when Preston found her missing upon his return to the apartment the next day, it shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Because he thought that she trusted him.

It surprised him more when a friend of his called to tell him that he had seen Preston's mate out with another man. It was at that point that all the puzzle pieces had fallen into place.

On the train, the night prior, Brielle had looked unhappy. She had said that the text was from an ex-friend, but it turned out that it must have been her ex-boyfriend instead. Of course, she hadn't told Preston any of that. Why would she ask for help?

Brielle didn't consider her own safety. She thought she could take on the world. And she couldn't.

He should have known she would do something stupid.

Preston hadn't wasted time getting in the car and speeding downtown to the the specified restaurant. The bond had started giving warning signals halfway there.

Fear. Anxiety. Anger. They weren't his own, but the things swirling in Brielle's emotions.

The last straw was the visual he walked in to see. Lou, his hand too tight around Brielle's arm, dragging her down the hall toward Preston. Brielle was running her mouth, and he didn't have the focus to hear all of it, but he did hear the most important part.

"...and my husband is not going to take kindly to you laying your grimy hands all over me. So let... me... go!"

Brielle broke free from Lou, but Preston knew how she managed it. It was because Lou had turned white as a sheet, his eyes focused on Preston. Preston was positive he looked like a creature ready to devour Lou whole.

"Brielle. Come here." Preston extended a hand in her direction, knowing he could more easily keep his temper under control if she were by his side.

"Don't do it, Bri," Lou somehow found the gall to command. "He's a walking red flag. Look how he's trying to control you. That's not healthy."

"You." Preston pointed a finger at Lou, wishing it was a knife he could throw. "Shut up. Brielle, come here."

Brielle took a step toward him, but Lou's hand shot out to grab her arm again.

Every protective instinct rose up inside of Preston, prepared to leap at the slightest provocation. His glare sparked green within his eyes, he could feel it. A snarl echoed against the hard floor, startling Lou into letting go.

"Brielle," Preston said one last time, letting his fingers linger in the air to beckon her.

Brielle skittered across the floor to his side. Her fingers tucked into his. It was then that he could feel her trembling. Lou had actually frightened her.

Preston didn't know who he was angrier at: Lou or Brielle. He had good reason for both. He did know that he couldn't stay still and do nothing anymore. He was going to have to be more proactive with Brielle.

But first, he needed to check something.

Preston turned his attention from Lou to Brielle, every fiber of his being softening. Gingerly, he checked her arm for bruises. With the way Lou had been holding her, the fingerprints on her skin would definitely darken later.

"Are your stitches okay?" Preston asked, his fingers tracing the pattern of abuse that Lou had left on Brielle's bicep.

Brielle nodded at him. "I'm fine. This is nothing."

"You don't get to say that." Preston rested a hand against the back of Brielle's hand, a moment of reassurance before he turned his glare back to Lou. "She won't be seeing you again, and you had best stay out of my sight."