Matthew turns from the medicine cabinet he’s already found. “M-me?”
“And my daughter? Where did you take her?” There’s no way that Hunter didn’t make arrangements for her before organising Matthew. She’s certainly not here.
“You have no right to call her that.”
“Where is she, Jericho?” I’m not in the mood to play semantics. I may not be in her life; that doesn’t mean I don’t want her safe. For Hunter’s sake if nothing else. She’s of my flesh and blood and the one chance that my line has to be something more. Outside of the sphere of my influence, she has much greater odds of being a better person than I ever could havebeen. She’ll have a life away from me, in the way I never had from my own father.
“Spencer and Kendrick have her.” The knowledge soothes my inner beast. Both of them are formidable and will leave a trail of bodies behind them before letting any harm come to her. “Like I said, I’m here for Matthew,” Jericho adds, gesturing at the man still rummaging in the medicine cabinet.
Matthew ignores both of us as he comes back over to me, hands full of bandaging. He dumps it on the counter beside my elbow and then rummages until he comes out with disinfectant and gauze.
“This might sting a little,” he says in a low soothing tone as he pours the liquid onto the gauze. He gently takes my chin and tilts my head down. “I’ll be quick.”
My lips quirk. Is that how he speaks to his students? I don’t need hand-holding or handling. This “little sting” is nothing compared to some of the things I’ve been through.
“Once you’re done there, we can go,” Jericho says in a slightly irritated tone.
Matthew stares straight ahead, almost looking right through me. “No, I’m staying here.”
“… excuse me?”
He places the gauze carefully on the counter and picks up a small, thin bandage. I grasp his wrist and shake my head. “I don’t need that.”
Our eyes meet, and there’s a steel to his that surprises me. And yet doesn’t at the same time. Hunter isn’t generally drawn to weak men. The attraction is starting to make more sense.
“I’m staying here,” he repeats, not looking away.
“With him?” asks Jericho.
“Y-yes.” He wrings his hands in front of himself, grazing my knee. “Hunter and Miles will be back soon, and I’m—I’m safe here.”
“No one is safe with Xavier, least of all you.”
Well, that hurts. Why is he less safe than others? I’m a danger to everyone equally. I worked hard to earn that reputation. The parts I got for free are beyond my control, but I use them to my advantage.
Matthew picks the gauze back up and dabs it against my lip again. I barely feel the sting now, intrigued and amused by his disobedience. I doubt Jericho hears the word “no” all that often. “He won’t hurt me.”
My eyebrow arches at the confidence in those four simple words. Does he truly believe that? He doesn’t know me, and I’ve done a lot of bad things.
“Why don’t you ask him what he does to people he claims to love? And then ask yourself, if he’s capable of that, what will he do to you? He doesn’t even know you.”
Matthew’s movements falter, and then he drops his hand, a wariness in his gaze that should have been there long before now. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he says, not even attempting to move out of my personal space.
“One hair on his head, Xavier. Just one, and I’m coming for you.”
“I believe you tried that already.”
“That wasn’t trying.” With that, Jericho stalks from the room, slamming the back door shut behind him.
Matthew winces. When he tries to step back, I drop a hand on his waist, keeping him there.
“You aren’t safe with me,” I warn him. Far from it.
“I know.” He awkwardly shuffles around the bandaging supplies. “But I don’t know where he was going to take me, and Hunter will be back soon, so…”
“The devil you know?” I say lightly.
“Something like that.” If he stares any harder at the disinfectant, it will spontaneously combust.
