57

DAHLIA Warmth blooms across my face. Both because of the blood rushing to my head and the embarrassment of being carried out of the club like a sack of potatoes. People watch us, their whispers penetrating my ears and drowning out the music, but they part for Kane without being prompted. No one dares to get in his way as he strides with determined ease. My stomach is draped over his broad, taut shoulder, and his big arm is wrapped tightly around my ass, restricting my movements. “Let me go!” I scream over the loud music. Either he doesn’t hear me or he doesn’t care. I wiggle and lift my head, but it’s no use. I think I see Preston dragging a laughing Marcus into the shadows while still having him in a chokehold, but the scene disappears as Kane walks out of the club. Icy air envelops me and goosebumps erupt on my skin, mingling with the bubbling anger coursing through me. I ball my hands into fists and bang on his muscled back, his waist—anywhere I can reach. “Put me down⁠—” My words e