“She wanted my attention, and she got it, Park. I’m not gonna lay my hands on her, but I am going to hurt her.”
“Okay, then. Go check on Annie before you do something you’re gonna regret. I’ll rope Fitz in and—”
I slash my hand through the air. “I already did that. I need to know what you guys find the second you find it. Don’t fuckin’ keep me in the dark about shit because you think I’m gonna go off on an impulsive, half-cocked spree of vengeance, understand?”
“I hear you.”
“I need to be with her. When you get a chance, can you go get her cat? The carrier is in the closet across from the mirror that has whore written on it in bright red lipstick.”
Poe
Apiece of glass crunches under my loafer, and I step back to kick it out of the way. Annie could have hurt herself on this. She’s not safe here. I walk over to the cat tree, and Joan Wick hisses at me. “Shh. If you promise to be good, I’ll come back for you.” I reach up to pet her, and she swats at me. Her nail cuts my arm like a razor blade. “Bitch.” She tries to run away, but I grab her by the scruff and dangle her in the air. “That wasn’t very nice.”
She struggles and kicks, and I squeeze harder. Her limbs start to go lax, and once she settles, I drop her to the ground and step over her as I walk to the window. Annie is lying on that bastard’s couch with an ice pack on her head. “He can’t keep you safe anymore. Only I can. I’m going to protect you.” I touch the glass and promise her. “Soon angel mine, very soon.”
ANeanderthalinlove.
Annie
Ben stands in front of me, a sentry, a white knight, my personal shield.
His button-down shirt stretches over his powerful, broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. There’s something seriously wrong with me that I even have the capacity to think about his muscles, let alone appreciate how good his butt looks in his black pants.
“Hi. Annie. I’m Dr. Sullivan, but everyone calls me Sully.” The gray-haired man smiles kindly at me.
“Hi.”
“You better be really fuckin’ careful with her,” Ben rumbles.
Sully ignores Ben’s warning, focusing his attention on me while he pulls up a kitchen chair next to mine. “Is it okay if I give you a quick exam?”
“Yes, but I’m fine. Ben’s being overdramatic.”
His shoulders tense so much I hear his neck crack. “You hit your head, Annie.”
“And aside from a bruise,” I glare over Sully’s shoulder. “Like I told you a dozen times, I’m fine, Bennett.”
“All right, well…let me just check it out to make sure, okay? How and when did you hit your head?”
I avert my attention back to the doctor. “A little over an hour ago, maybe two. I came home, and when I saw the state ofmy loft, I tripped and fell. I was also dehydrated, I hardly ate anything, and I had two glasses of Prosecco, so that didn’t help. I’m fine.”
“Let’s—”
“Wait.” Ben interrupts Sully. “Where did you have Prosecco?”
“Vogueish.”
He takes a quick step and puts the tips of his fingers under my chin to tilt my head back. “You met my sister?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t really had the chance.”
He trails his knuckles across my cheek, then touches my newly highlighted hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I thought something was different. It looks good, sweetheart.”
“Thanks.”
