Professional.
She claims it was an accident. A hit-and-run.
But I know my brother’s name is all over this, and I’m going to fucking kill him.
He’s not stupid enough to leave a trail, but he is just stupid enough to think this will scare me into backing down.
He couldn’t be more fucking wrong.
Sienna tosses her purse on the couch and kicks off her shoes, doing her best to pretend as though nothing has happened.
I’m ready to burn my father’s house down with him and my brother in it.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” My voice is much calmer than I feel. She went to the hospital—not because she wanted to, but because I demanded she go—and the doctors said she’d be sore and a bit stiff but make a full recovery.
“I’ve told you a million times; I’m fine, Ben,” she says exasperatedly.
“You’re still shaking.”
“It’s the adrenaline,” she mutters. “It’ll pass.”
I don’t believe her.
Her hands tremble as she sets down the car keys. It’s a telltale sign that she knows just as well as I do that tonight’s accident happened because of me.
I step closer, brushing a lock of hair from her temple, and she flinches.
“You were in a crash,” I keep my gaze locked on her. “Every poor bastard who ever got in my crosshairs has been in worse situations than this, and you—” I catch my voice, because the anger inside me is rising again. “You’re the one I’m supposed to protect. You could’ve been killed.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” she grumbled. “You want me to fall apart? You want proof that I’m scared?”
“No,” I say quietly. “I just want you safe.” My hands move to her shoulders, steadying her just enough for her to feel the weight behind the words. “Let me check you, Sienna. I need to know you’re okay for my sanity.”
I can hear her shallow, unsteady breathing, and it does something to me I can’t explain.
I hate that she’s scared.
I hate that she’s pretending she’s not.
Reaching behind her, I press into the base of her neck to ease the tension knotted there. “Sit for me?”
Sienna steals a glance at me before taking a seat on the couch. I follow, sinking into the motion while Sienna lets me massage the tight muscles at the base of her neck.
She leans slightly back into me, and I feel the tiny flickers of hesitation mixed with reliance.
“You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since this morning.”
She sighs. “Are you stalking me again, Benedikt?”
“Yes.” I knead a little more before tacking on, “I won’t apologize for caring. And I won’t apologize for what I’m about to say.” My hands move to her arms, pulling her gently into my lap as she lets out a grumble. “I should kill them. Your father. Nikolai. Every bastard who put you in danger.”
