Layers Peeled Read Online Free PDF Page B

Rejecting Kendra the way I did was
wrong. I should have seen it coming. She retaliated not only by
stabbing me but by ruining her life. She had no one to count on
because of me. I owe her, as my friend, to get her back on her
feet.”
    Tristan blamed
himself for what had happened to Kendra. It seemed she was still
hunting Tristan’s life more than he wanted to admit. Or perhaps it
was that tiny lump of jealousy in my heart, wishing I didn’t have
to share Tristan with anyone – even his past.

     

CHAPTER 4
     
    As the night
progressed we enjoyed the privacy of the lounge, talking and
flirting and making out. I was glad once our conversation turned
away from Kendra. The flame of jealousy rekindled in the pit of my
stomach every time she was mentioned, and I didn’t like the
feeling. The comfort of Tristan’s company and his soothing kisses
on my shoulder – in fact everything he did – held so much emotion.
I felt guilty worrying that he could still have feelings for
someone else. Besides, she had saved my life, so I owed her.
    Tristan’s
phone buzzed in his pocket.
    “It’s
Washington. I have to take this. Please excuse me. I’ll be right
back.”
    His unpleased
expression and the troubled shift in his cheeks made me wary, but I
stayed where he’d asked me to wait for him. I leaned back on the
couch, watching my two friends wiggle their butts on the dance
floor. Laura, Jess, and Tessa twirled and spun around their new boy
toys. Even if I couldn’t recognize the men from the distance, their
silhouettes were definitely well built. Yet something familiar
about Laura’s man of the hour caught my attention. I definitely
recognized the muscled body shape and suave movements but couldn’t
quite place them. Watching my friends dance, I was certain I’d miss
going out with them when my belly was sticking out; not that we got
a chance to do so too often even now.
    Near the club
entrance, beyond the crowd of heads, a couple caught my attention.
Their sharp movements and awkward body language alerted my
instincts. A man wearing black jeans and a hoodie was gripping a
girl’s wrist harder than I liked. She tried to weasel out of his
hold, but that only seemed to anger him. He raised his arm to hit
her but stopped mid-way, and she shrank back against the wall.
    My back
straightened.
    Let her
go! I screamed in my mind, my gaze darting to the two bouncers
whose attention was on the ever-growing line outside. The thug
jerked on her arm again. The girl obviously didn’t want to leave
with him. She kept pulling on his arm, trying to free herself from
his hold. For a moment I thought tears glistened in her eyes, but
it was difficult to see from such a distance. My heart ached. I
stood tall on my toes, looking over the mingling crowd. If a few
more people entered, I’d lose track of them. He yanked her harder
as she braced her other hand and her feet against a wall,
struggling to fight back.
    And that revived all my senses. I shouldn’t have waited this
long anyway. A fresh dose of adrenaline rushed through my veins. I
pushed through the crowd, aiming for the entrance. My focus
remained on the couple as every ounce of my being committed to help
her get rid of the bastard. She thrashed around and raised her hand
to slap him, but he stopped her mid-way once again. I wished she’d
hit him, and I promised to give him a dose of his own medicine if I
only got a chance.
    The thug
crushed into her in response, pinning her between his front and the
wall. His nose squished against hers, his tight lips moving harshly
as he tried to speak through his teeth. The spit shower from his
mouth oozed with threats I could only imagine. The girl rolled her
shoulders forward and recoiled like a puppy who’d been scolded for
peeing on the floor.
    He pulled her
hand once more, she lowered her head, and they headed for the
exit.
    “Stop them,” I
screamed over the music, but no one heard me. Why did moving
through this crowd feel like I was