Ezra's POV
I took Layla upstairs in silence, but my mind was churning.
I couldn't believe that arrogant, spoiled bastard. He just stood there, trying to change the past as though he had any right remaining in her life, it made my blood boil.
I tightened my grip slightly but adjusted almost immediately reminding myself that she was already injured. The last thing I wanted to do was make things worse.
Anger remained under my skin after that, refusing to die down.
"That worthless scumbag," I muttered under my breath. "Just like his damn father."
Layla adjusted in my arms and I could feel her gaze boring into me with curiosity, like she wasn't used to seeing me like this.
And she wasn't.
Generally, I would not let my emotions control me, but tonight was an exception.
