I stop immediately and glare at him. “Okay?” I spit.
His eyes darken as he holds mine. “I don’t need your permission to do those things, but thank you for giving it, anyway.”
I recoil. The thought of Denver and Theo is just… yuck.
“You’re my bodyguard!I’msupposed to be your priority.”
“You are.”
“Not if you have time to fuck around with Theodora.”
“I didn’t fuck her.”
The way fuck sounds as he says it makes me pause as a shiver runs up my inner thighs, leaving a delicious heat behind it.
“But you want to. It’s obvious. So just go ahead and get it over with. Then I won’t have to keep watching her fawn all over you like a rash. It’s gross?—”
Denver moves so fast my brain has to catch up with what’s happening. Monty goes wild, barking and snarling at top volume and my arm is yanked hard.
Denver’s fist flies past my ear, delivering a bone-crunching punch to a person who has grabbed Monty’s leash.
I’m swept behind Denver’s hulking frame, Monty’s leash pulling tight inside my grip.
“Monty!” I screech.
He’s barking and growling but I can’t see him. Denver lunges forward again, and Monty’s lead goes slack.
I claw air into my lungs as a man in a ski mask runs to a van and jumps inside. It’s already driving off before the door closes.
“Where is he?” I cry. “They took him!”
Denver turns.
Monty is wrapped inside his arms, shaking so much his tufts of hair are quivering against Denver’s black jacket.
“Oh my god,” I sob.
I take him from Denver, bundling him inside my arms. His leash falls from my fingers and hits the sidewalk. The end of it has been cut clean through.
“They had a knife,” I cry. “Th-they?—”
“We need to move.” Denver’s eyes have taken on a trained hardness as he surveys the street.
He wraps one arm around me and marches me straight over to a cab that he hails. He opens the back door, and I scramble inside, my heart hammering as I scan for signs of the man coming back.
Denver climbs in and gives my address, pulling his phone out at the same time. I cry softly into Monty’s fur, kissing him over and over while he licks my face and Denver calls my father and tells him what just happened.
“We’ll come to you,” Denver says.
I grab his arm and shake my head violently. “I want to go home. Please.”
Denver nods. “Sinclair wants to go home… Okay… I will. You have my word.”
Denver ends the call and looks at me. I cry harder as I meet his eyes.
“Not Monty,” I whisper. “I’d rather they try and take me.”
His mouth is set in a grim line as I sink my face back into Monty’s fur.
