Page 62 of London Has Fallen
“With all due respect, yes, she is my concern and not yours or your sons and definitely not my fucking brothers.” Kiara purses her lips to keep from smiling, Bishop’s nostrils flare in outrage, but his wife calmly steps in front of her husband, claiming his attention, affording me the chance to focus mine on my girl who still refuses to look at me. “You gonna keep acting like I’m not standing right here?”
She scoffs and shoves me back. I grunt in pain but weather it as she comes at me again, this time she punches me across the jaw sending me staggering back a step.
“Karma, he’s injured,” Amelia shouts, but London isn’t hearing a word she says. She stands there with her fist clenched at her side. I stand tall and stare her down, daring her to come at me again. I let the first hit slide but I won’t allow a second.
“Come on, little demon, you know you missed me,” I taunt.
“Fuck you!” she screams as she charges forward. I dodge her right hook and jump back when she throws an uppercut with her left.
“I would love to,” I say with a smirk.
“Motherfucker is gonna die slowly,” I hear Royal say but I don’t dare take my focus off of the killer in front of me.
“I hate you.”
“A part of you does but that other part of you that hesitated for a split second before driving that knife through me doesn’t.” Her eyes slam closed at the reminder. I take a huge risk and close the space between us and tentatively reach out, cupping her cheeks in my hands. She sucks in a ragged breath at the feeling of my hands on her again. I force her head back so she can look at me, I see it in her green eyes. “That part of you loves me,” I say low enough for just her to hear. A deep groove forms in the center of her brows as she mulls over my words.
“I can’t do this.” She rips free of my hold and turns away from me but fuck that, I’m not letting her go. I strike out and grip her wrist, yanking her back to me. The males around us begin to shout but fuck them. I keep an arm locked around her waist and grip a fistful of her hair, tugging on the strands, forcing her to look at me.
“I know you are running because what happened brought back memories you thought you could evade.” Her eyes widen in surprise that I can see through her bullshit. “I’m not him, London, I’m still here with you. I’m so sorry for what I said about your uncle, it was uncalled for and wrong but I had?—”
“I know why you did it,” she whispers. I’m not used to seeing this side of her, she’s quiet and controlled and I don’t like it.
“Can we talk?” She frowns.
“We are talking.”
I make a sound in the back of my throat. “Maybe somewhere more private so your dad, grandfather and uncles aren’t standing there plotting my death loud enough that I can hear.” She darts her gaze toward them and they all keep their glares on me.
“You think I’m letting that motherfucker anywhere alone with you, you are out of your fucking mind,” her father spits.
“You saved him!” she rebukes.
“She has a point,” Bishop tacks on, earning a scowl from his son.
“Stay out of this,” he snaps at his father before he breaks away from the others and steps forward, eyeing me up and down like I’m nothing and he isn’t wrong. What I did cost us everything, we have nothing and nowhere to go now. “You live because of what I need to know, she is not part of this so you stay the fuck away from my daughter.”
“Royal, enough,” Erika says as she eliminates the space between us. As she draws near, I release London and stand beside her. Unlike her husband, Erika doesn’t eye me with disdain or disgust. “You may escort my daughter out back but be warned, her father, uncles and grandfather will be around so do not insight their wrath any further.”
London laughs. “But, Mom…” she whines, “annoying Dad is my favorite thing to do, you know this.”
Royal rolls his head back and sighs up at the sky while Erika purses her lips. “Take him out back. I need to have some words with your father about keeping secrets.” That has Royal breaking his neck to look at his daughter.
“She knew,” he accuses. London's brows raise as Erika slowly turns to face her husband placing her hands on her hips.
“Her right hook to his jaw suggests otherwise, now you can take it like a man out here or we can have this conversation in your office.”
“Out here!” Bishop and London both say at the same time. When Royal pins London with a look that begs for her help, she grabs my hand and pulls me after her.
“You dirty little traitor! Next time, I won’t save the little bitch,” he calls after us.
“For that I won’t stop Mom from killing you!” London shouts as she drags me around the back of their massive house. She leads me up the stairs and walks over to the edge of the patio where two wooden chairs sit looking out over the golf course at the back of the property. She drops into one with the grace of a toddler while I slowly ease into mine, wincing a couple times. I can feel her worried gaze on me.
“I’m fine,” I say once I’m finally seated, the slight sheen of sweat on my brow would suggest otherwise but fuck it, fake it till ya make it right.
“The fact you look constipated tells me you’re full of shit.” I choke on air, clearly she still hasn’t found a filter for her mouth.
“Well, getting the shit beaten out of you and stabbed does have that effect,” I say jokingly but she doesn’t laugh, instead she looks like she ate a lemon. “I’m sorry, I was trying to lighten the mood.”