My stomach flips. And there I was, thinking we had absolutely nothing in common as children, but we did.
Neither of us had someone looking after our best interests.
“Having Candace around also gives Wylder an excuse not to let anyone close,” Matthias muses, his gaze resting on me.
I scowl. “I know I make him mad, but I’d never hurt him.”
“I don’t think that’s what Matthias is saying,” Dalton says slowly. The two brothers exchange a loaded look before he continues. “Wylder isn’t worried about himself getting hurt. I think he’s worried about caring too much about someone, and them getting hurt.”
“That’s not true,” I protest.
“Isn’t it?” Ansel says. “If it’s not true, why didn’t Wylder let you leave the other day? Why is he insisting you work in his office?”
“It’s not because he cares.” I can feel my ears reddening, my face growing warm. “He wouldn’t have invited Candace here tonight if he cared.”
“Actually, I think that proves that he does.” Dalton sighs. “But let’s shelve that for now. We need to focus on getting rid of Candace.”
An idea comes to me. Both brilliant and absurd. “Leave it to me.”
8
WYLDER
I startle awake to someone standing over me, my body reacting as it was trained to do. My arm swings out and grabs on to the figure. I immediately fling them onto the bed beside me, my body flipping over as I pin them in place.
And on their neck is the blade of my dagger.
I could push it in, could end it all before they even have a chance to?—
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Wylder,” Neo hisses, wriggling beneath me. “I knew you’d be into some kinky shit, but this is a little too much. I’m not into blood play.”
My eyes blink away the sleep, the adrenaline leaving my body in slow waves. I squint down at him, wishing I had my contacts in. “Neo?”
“Yes, asshole.Me.”
“What are you doing in my bedroom?” I ask before realizing it was a ridiculous question. I know he sneaks around while I’m sleeping, but still…that’s dangerous.
He continues to try to break free, but I don’t let him. His legs are pinned under mine, his arms above his head, his wrists encircled by my fingers.
I should let him go, but I only seem to lean in farther.
“You can take the knife away from my neck.”
“No.”
I can almost hear his eye roll. “Fine. I don’t mind it here. Being held down by you. It’s nice, actually. Makes my dick hard.”
My throat bobs, but I don’t release him. I do, however, remove the tip of the blade from his neck. I might want him to cry, but not bleed.
Never want to see him hurt.
“You don’t believe me,” he says when I don’t respond. “It is. So hard.”
I swallow, remembering yesterday morning in his bedroom. How it looked with his hand wrapped around it. “Shut up.”
“Mm, no, thanks.”
My jaw clicks, and my fingers flex against his wrists, feeling the speeding pulse beneath his skin.
