I wanted to get his handprints tattooed around my upper arms now, like tribal paint.
“Please don’t be mad,” I whispered before I could catch the words.
The words seemed to disarm him, though the stoicism in his face didn’t relent. “Why do you live all the way out here in the middle of nowhere?”
I just shrugged softly, though his tight grip prevented some of the movement. “I like the quiet and seclusion of it all.”
He shook me softly. “Why do you keep lying to me?”
“Why is this so important to you?”
“Because I want to know why you’ve put yourself at an unnecessary risk.”
“I thought you wanted to know why I lived all the way out here.”
He growled. “Stop playing games with me.”
I smiled up at him. “What? I like games. I think they’re fun.”
He growled as he shoved me, not hard, and then turned his back. He marched to the other side of my room, sliding his hands through his hair in a way that flexed his arms. I couldn’t help but watch the muscles bulge against the fabric of the typical black shirt he always wore. The veins in his arms told me enough about his disposition.
This really did bother him.
“I struggled after our parent’s deaths,” I said softly.
He slowly turned to face me, pinning me against the wall with his stare. “Tell me more.”
I swallowed hard. “There’s nothing to tell. I was done with the world after we lost our parents. I didn’t want anything to do with it, or the emptiness I felt after not having them around. King already had his crew. I barely had friends in high school, and fuck college because I hated all that studying and testing bullshit.”
His shoulders sank a bit. “Yeah, I get that feeling.”
I tilted my head. “Your parents are dead?”
He pointed at his face. “Orphan. Parents didn’t want me.”
“Oh, Bee,” I whispered softly.
There was a fleeting moment where a memory crossed his face, and I wanted to ask him about it. It seemed to consume him for a millisecond, but just as quickly as he came, it passed. He locked his eyes with me again just as I stepped away from the wall.
But apparently, he wasn’t having any of that shit.
“No,” he said as he pointed at me and marched back in my direction.
He backed me right into the wall, his finger pressing against my chest, right where my heart was. “Okay, so we’re not moving from the wall. Got it.”
He bent down, resting his forearm above my head on the wall until I tilted my head back and found myself face to face with The Iron Battalion’s bodyguard behemoth.
Jesus Christ, he was a mountain of a man.
“I’m not leaving this room until you tell me why you didn’t tell anyone that this was your house,” he said, his voice low and hot against my face. “Because I have a hard time understanding why the brother who’s so goddamn protective of you would let you put yourself out as a target like this.”
“What target are you talking about?” I asked, getting a bit miffed. “I don’t understand the big deal. I wanted to help, I convinced my brother to let me help, the crew thought this place was a good?—”
“Fuck his crew,” he snarled. “This puts you at the gravest of disadvantages. Your brother isn’t that stupid. This is unsafe for you and the place that you call home, and you know it.”
My eyes widened a bit. “You really don’t like this at all.”
His nose twitched. “I really, really don’t.”
