Danny’s sneer matched mine. “She’s my fucking sister. Who the hell are you?”
He already knew exactly who I was.
“Someone intent on keeping her safe.” My bark wasn’t worse than my bite.
“Enough!” She raked her hand through her hair. “Just go.”
With a deep exhale, I did as she asked, heading into the kitchen, positioning myself so I could still see a portion of both of them. While she lowered her voice when she spoke with him, her body language remained tense. I flicked on the light over the stove before pulling his weapon into my hand, turning it over. A Sig Sauer, exactly like the type used by assassins. I shoved it under the light, searching for the serial number.
There wasn’t one. A telltale sign. Danny might be her brother, but he was also a criminal. I’d bet everything I owned on that fact.
After a few minutes, I became antsy, my concern increasing. I checked the window, able to see a portion of the street, but it was pitch black, making it impossible to see anything. I didn’t like the tightness in my chest from us being sitting ducks.
There was no outward sign he’d left until the rush of heat drifting across my skin indicated she was right behind me. Her chin was down, her arms folded, but the fingers of one hand were tugging on the necklace. The special piece had been a gift from her brother. The secret needed to be shared.
She studied my face, her soft lips pursed into a thin line. “Your lip is bleeding.”
“I’ve had worse.” I ran my finger across it, staring at the string of blood before wiping it across my jeans.
“My God. What a life you must be forced to live. Violent and unable to trust anyone.”
“Are you talking about my life or your brother’s?”
Huffing, she folded her arms. “Both.”
“That’s how I’ve stayed alive.”
“A life I…” When Fleur didn’t finish her sentence, I was offered another clue. Whatever life she’d walked away from had been an escape and not a choice. Who the fuck had hurt her?
“What happened in there?” I asked, doing what I could to keep from using an accusatory tone.
“Danny is gone. For now.”
“What does he want?”
While she gave me a look of annoyance, she moved toward the table where her empty wineglass remained, draining the bottle and slowly easing into a chair. “I don’t know. We didn’t get that far. I’m too exhausted to deal with his brand of crazy right now.”
“He was the person who sent you the disturbing text.”
“Wow. Next, you’re going to go through my underwear drawer so you can learn everything about me.”
I grabbed my glass and the bottle of whiskey, using the chore to allow her time to tell me what the fuck was going on.
“That was rude of me and I’m sorry. But you can’t just go around beating up everyone who comes inside my house.” Her snarl was ridiculously naïve and completely adorable.
“A man carrying an assassin’s weapon broke into your home, Fleur. How would you have preferred I’d acted? Invite him in for lasagna?”
She shook her head, fisting her long fingers as fury settled in. “You’re not my keeper and believe it or not, I’m damn good at facing and dealing with my problems.”
“Maybe you’re right and I have no reason to interfere, but I know the level of danger that exists outside these walls.”
Her glare remained harsh, seconds ticking by, her eyes liquid fire. “Yes, I guess you would. Wouldn’t you?”
We weren’t getting anywhere like this. “You know the reasons for my concern. The fact you were almost run down in the middle of the street should continue to alarm you. Then your brother showed up carrying a weapon. If that doesn’t raise a red flag, then you’re fooling yourself.”
The chutzpa she carried with her like a suit of armor began to fade. “I’m worried about him.”
“Then let me help you.”
