Her Possessive Guard

It was twilight when Kara was done with her paper. She leaned back in her chair and rolled her neck from side to side, the movement easing the tension in her muscles.

Time had flown by as usual, and she had to vacuum the floors today since it was her turn.

She shut her books, placed them at a corner of her study table, and cleaned out her desk, righting the pen holder that had dropped to one side sometime during the last hour.

Reaching up, she rubbed the heels of her palms to her eyes and took a deep breath, her mouth feeling parched.

Megan hadn’t come in to check on her earlier like she usually did. And Kara knew the reason. It brought a slight frown to her face.

So, the prick was staying.

She sighed. It was hopeless. He was her best friend’s cousin after all.

She couldn’t be an ass even if she wanted to. She loved Megan and she knew Megan loved her family more than anything else in the whole wide world.

Pushing her chair back, she stood and stretched again, bringing her hands high and reaching up on her toes. God, that felt good.

“Done for the day?”

She started at Megan’s voice behind her.

Turning around, Kara saw that she was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a tank top, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail.

She was chewing on something and immediately Kara felt a pang of hunger in her stomach. She hadn’t eaten for the past five hours.

“I’m hungry,” she said as she went ahead and looped her arm through Megan's, earning a smile in return.

Kara hadn’t told her about the episode in the morning, too embarrassed to discuss it. She could only hope that Adam hadn’t told her either.

“I’ve made some mac and cheese and there are crackers, though I think Adam has probably finished those off by now.”

“Mac and cheese sounds good.”

Megan merely nodded, humming a tune under her breath as they made their way into the living room.

Kara felt relieved. So, he hadn’t told her.

She saw Adam sitting at the table, his neck bent as he looked down at his phone in his hand. He was wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of sweats.

Not bothering to greet him or acknowledge his presence in any way, Kara went straight to the counter and grabbed a plate, intending to stuff herself with an unhealthy amount of mac and cheese.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed it the very second Adam looked up and turned right to her.

Megan had already taken a seat on the couch, her sketching book in her hand. It had been her part-time hobby and she had developed it into a skill.

Once she had filled her plate, Kara turned around and went to the table, pulling out a chair for herself.

All through it, she could feel Adam’s eyes on her. But she studiously ignored it, choosing to concentrate on the heavenly aroma of food before her. Megan cooked bloody well.

She had just taken her first bite when he spoke.

“Do you always spend so long cooped up in your room?”

There was a hint of something in his voice that Kara couldn’t identify. She ignored his question and glanced at Megan, who was busy sketching the portrait of a woman dancing in the rain.

She had her lower lip between her teeth, the way she always did when she was trying hard not to get distracted. Without a thought, Kara smiled.

The low mutter right across from her made her blink in surprise and turn to Adam. To her bewilderment, he looked like he was mad at something.

His eyebrows were scrunched up. And not in an adorable way. His attention was on the screen of his phone.

She watched as a scowl made its way onto his face and the palm that he had laid on the table was beginning to clench.

“What’s wrong?”

The words were out of her mouth before she knew it.

His head shot up and he looked at her.

Her breath froze when she caught sight of the hatred that radiated from him.

Then he blinked and it was gone. Replaced by a bleak but humorous look that made her want to look away.

He smirked when she didn’t.

“Everything’s fine, little raven.”

Kara almost rolled her eyes.

“Why are you still even here? You were supposed to leave this morning.”

He laughed. Low and husky.

She saw Megan glance over at them and pause midway through the sketch.

Shaking her head, Kara began eating, her mind drifting away, trying hard not to flinch when Adam got up from his chair and dragged it closer to her so that if she reached out, she could touch him.

She pointedly turned away, concentrating on her food, her skin tingling with the sensation she had experienced not long ago, the one that plagued her whenever Adam was too close.

“Do I make you nervous, little raven?” he spoke softly, leaning in toward her.

Kara scoffed, her mouth full.

He only laughed again and slid even closer, placing his hand on the back of her chair.

“I do, don’t I?” he pressed on, his voice dropping even lower.

Swallowing, Kara licked the corner of her mouth in an unconscious gesture before looking up at him.

His eyes were on her lips, the smirk no longer present.

“No, you don’t,” she said forcefully, as though she was speaking to a child, stressing out every syllable.

Adam stared at her in surprise for a moment before he chuckled.

He moved even closer, and then he touched her mouth with his index finger, pressing lightly on her upper lip. Her cheeks heated up, as she pushed his hand away.

He smirked at her, bringing his finger to his mouth.

Appalled, Kara watched him suck on his fingertip.

“Delicious,” he mouthed with a wink.

Then he stood up and left the room.

***

Three more days.

Adam repeated the chant in his head, again and again, the words hardly soothing the rage in his chest.

Fifteen days.

Fifteen fucking days since the last time he had punched his fist into some asshole’s face.

His muscles ached for the release.

Fuck, both his mind and body craved it: the thrill of the fight, the feel of victory when he had his opponent lying on the floor.

He gripped the marble of the basin, his knuckles turning white with the pressure. He was going to lose it if he didn’t do something about it soon.

Red had refused to take the money from his previous fight. But Adam had persuaded him till he had finally agreed, not before promising that he’d pay him back someday.

That day wasn’t in the near future.

But all that fuckery had been before Adam had quit, and that motherfucker Crawford had gotten his sights on Red.

Crawford was the one who earned off every fight in the club. The boss, the puppeteer.

Red had supported Adam’s decision to go down and leave it all behind. And everything had gone according to plan.

But it had blown up in his face when he least expected it.

Crawford hadn’t been able to get another fighter good enough to replace Adam and it had pissed him off. Royally. So, he dug up Red, threatening him to get Adam back.

He had said he needed the money, but Adam knew better. The fucker enjoyed the bloodshed. He got off watching the bodies pile up after every filthy round. It was a game to him.

Beating up Red just to know where Adam had slunk off to was just the beginning. Crawford could do worse, and Adam knew that.

He had to meet the ass and devise a plan to get the fuck out of that net once and for all.

He splashed cold water on his face, relieved when the sting made him feel a bit calmer than he had been.

Rolling his shoulders, he flexed his fingers, easing the tension from them.

He’d do this.

He fucking had to.