“Can you teach me how to shoot?” she asks out of fucking nowhere.
“Teachyou?” My eyebrow cocks. “The girl who can’t use a panic button to save her life?”
“I know how to use it,” she whines. “It just slipped out of my hands.”
“You know what happens when a loaded gun slips out of your hands?” I point out. She rolls her eyes. “Why do you need to learn to shoot anyway?”
Or rather, who? All I need is a name.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Some psycho stalker keeps breaking into my room.”
I chuckle.
A pistol whipped into my skull didn’t stop me, little dove. One to my fucking face won’t, either. Nothing will.
“So, you can hurt yourself in silence?” I catch her off guard.
“What do you care?” she shrugs, genuinely curious.
“No one gets to hurt what’s mine. Not evenyou. Though this is an extremely frustrating situation.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t grab that thing in your head and throttle its neck.”
She stares at me, pupils blown wide, then swallows—the movement small but somehow louder than words.
“How much do you see?”
“Everything.” I stroke her jaw. She’s so touchable. Every inch of her, so soft. “Does that bother you?”
“Yes.”
“Because?”
“I didn’t agree to share that with someone I don’t know.”
“You don’t share it with anyone you know, either.” I lift a shoulder. “Not even with thatplatonicfriend of yours. You’re surrounded by people who care about you, but you choose to fight it alone. Problem is, sweetheart, you’re not strong enough.”
Her eyes turn red at the rims, hoping for softer words I don’t have. Everyone around her treats her like a glass doll about to crack. She could use a reality check. And she knows I’m right.
“I don’t want to be tied up anymore,” she mutters.
“Tough, I don’t like my things scratched.”
“I’m not a bloodything,” she snaps.
“No, you are a fucking headache,” I growl, threading my fingers through the back of her hair and crushing her into me. She freezes when I bring her mouth close to mine. “Lying there in lace and silk, flashing your perfect tits in my face. You drive me fucking insane. You know I’ll be there later, butGod forbid you wear something less seductive,one fucking night.”
She struggles in my hold, trying to push me away, but gives up when I don’t let her get an inch between us.
“Is that all it takes?” she mutters, her warm breath washing my face. “If you hadn’t seen me last night, how long until you’d fucked the other woman on your lap?”
“Would you prefer it were her?” I arch an eyebrow. “Will that make it easier?” She punches my chest with her tiny fist. I grab her wrist. “Answer me.”
“I don’t care who you fuck.”
“No? Should we test that theory?”
