Rob scoffed. “I barely touched you.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m going to freeze to death regardless of how you treat me.”
He stood from his seat by the door, walking over to the fire and grabbing the poker. He moved a log, causing embers to fly every which way. He’d done this so many times, I lost count. Nerves seemed to be getting the bestof him, and he couldn’t seem to sit still because of it. “You have a perfectly good fire right here.”
“The storm will only get worse, and temperatures will drop even more as night passes. If your genius plan is to hold me here until I deliver my son, you’re a fucking idiot. A fire won’t do shit once it hits the negatives.”
He abandoned the fire poker in the flames, taking two large steps until he was directly in front of me. He grabbed my chin before I could move away, squeezing until pain bloomed.
“You think you can call me an idiot?” he bellowed, spit flying from his lips and spraying my skin.
My stiff fingers wrapped around his wrist, but he was unmovable. Tears welled in my eyes as he only tightened his grip on me. “Rob, you’re hurting me.”
“Maybe you need to be fucking hurt. Teach you a fucking lesson.”
The door to the cabin slammed open right as he finished his sentence. In one swift movement, Rob had my back to his chest and his arm around my neck.
Beckham stood in the doorway, snow swirling around his bulky form, his shotgun aimed at Rob. With the position we were in, I knew he wouldn’t take the shot. He’d never risk me.
Which meant we were screwed.
“Let her go,” Beckham gritted out, eyes quickly darting to me before refocusing on Rob. The howl of wind behind him had me shivering.
“This your fucking boyfriend?” Rob seethed in my ear.
My frantic breathing puffed clouds of white before me, my limbs a shaking mess. All I wanted was to fall to my knees and sob. My baby didn’t deserve any of this stress, yet here I was, in danger and unable to protect him.
I was failing already.
“Beckham, please.” My voice broke, tears building so heavily in my eyes that it felt like I was looking through a glass bowl. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”
He held the gun a little tighter, eyes narrowing on Rob. “Let her go, or I’ll put a bullet through your fucking head.”
Rob’s brusque chuckle had me flinching. “You won’t risk it.”
Beckham took a step to the left, his gaze darting down my body for a split second. Rob moved in the opposite direction, keeping me tight in his hold.
“You think I won’t?” Beckham questioned.
“Iknowyou won’t.”
They both moved a few more feet, rotating us in a circle. But now we were farther from the fire, which meant the cold only became worse with the door wide open.
“Lower your gun and I won’t hurt her,” Rob instructed, and it was then that I noticed he held a knife to my side.
I hadn’t felt the sharp bite of the blade with my focus on Beckham and making sure he wouldn’t get hurt, but now I realized why Beckham had briefly looked down.
“He won’t hurt me, Beckham.He needs m?—”
Rob tightened his arm around my neck, and I arched onto aching toes to force in a breath.
Beckham’s entire body went rigid, his jacket looking like it was about to tear from the size of his muscles. He needed to fight, to get me to safety, and he was quickly finding that he might be losing.
A tear rolled down my cheek as I dug my nails into Rob’s arm, but it was no use through the thick fabric of his coat.
Beckham noted my struggle, pain etching into the depths of his eyes, and it almost hurt me worse to see the helplessness in his gaze.
He slowly bent at the knees, lowering the shotgun until it was lying on the ground. When he stood, hands clenched at his sides, he toed the gun a few inches away. “Alright. It’s down.”
