Chapter 71

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SO COLDAfflicted, and light-headedness was a bad combination

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SO COLD
Afflicted, and light-headedness was a bad combination. Anxiety was a misshapen sphere of squiggly, distressed lines, growing larger in size as the seconds passed and dread grew. Thickset, burly men unable of reason and able of violence were an unjust match against the scrawny, skinny Irvin. He was going to be pulverised meat by the end of the night – that is, if he was lucky. Unfamiliar with forgiveness, Cole was likely itching to crush his jugular and end his life for a mistake that didn't belong to him.

My legs tightened around his waist, a restraint. "I'll never forgive you, Cole."

Humoured, his mouth curled up into an impish grin. His hands rested on my thighs, his thumbs slowly rubbing circles into my flushed skin.  "You're my girlfriend. You'll support my decisions whether you agree with them or not."

"You mean bitch." I corrected.

"Whatever you want me to call you." He kissed my shoulder, moving to kiss my neck. When I turned my face away from him, he placed a hand on my cheek and forced me to face him. His lips pressed against my cheek. "I won't kill him." He promised softly.

Tension eased off my shoulders slightly and returned in full-force when he continued. "But he has a lot to answer to. I'll bruise him up. He'll be fine, you won't need to worry. A good beating builds strong character."

"You make my skin crawl." I batted his hands away, sitting up on the hard surface of the island table. My butt was numb. My temper was ignited.

"Shay." He said, an edge to his voice. "Don't embarrass me in front of my men."

"Cover up," I brought my knees to my chest, reaching to pull my panties up over my legs and thighs, recovering my modesty. I stood. Cole didn't move out of the way, a sullen bully in the playground. Shoving past him, I turned at the doorway. "What happened was a mistake. Blaming Irvin won't solve anything. There is a rat amongst your precious group of men. Everything you do is a step behind Gui Shěn. Your father has taken over the drug trade. The police are picking up your dealers on every street they dawdle on. With the display of the fake journalist's body on the monument in the town centre, you've drawn attention and scrutiny to everything you do. This town has drawn headlines throughout the country. You're furious about James. I get it. But he's alive. He's recovering. Move on. There are far more important matters to address."

He pulled his boxers up, trousers following, and buckled his belt. Eyebrows drawn over a stormy gaze, he brushed a hand through his curly, black locks and said with a soft laugh. "I take back my promise. Buy flowers. He's a dead man."

**

Silence filled the SUV, a thick, fog-like matter. As stubborn as one another, Cole and I refused to speak to each other. Our tempers were competent rivalries, corybantic and ireful. The nine minute drive was a stew in which the foul moods brewed, a slow cook to a (likely) explosive outburst. The wheels crunched over pavement, rolling to a slow stop over a rise on the front lawn of Vyacheslav's two-storied home. The engine was abruptly killed.

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