But the way he said it—not accusation, not condemnation—disrupted something in me.
“I thought so,” he said, and his voice was flat.
When he left, I followed him out to the parking lot, my truck parked next to his SUV.
“I can’t stop watching you,” I said as he reached his car, and he turned to face me.
“That’s not normal.”
“I’m not your version of ordinary,” I said.
“You don’t say.”
I ignored him. “I watch your pulse settle before you speak. I watch how you map exits in every room. I watch how you put yourself between threats and people smaller than you. I’ve been watching you for months,” I added. “If someone tries to hurt you, then I’ll take them out, and I won’t be sorry about it.”
“Novak—”
“Mickey put his hand on you. I didn’t like it.”
There was no heat in the statement, no accusation, just fact. I didn’t like it. The contact had been brief, but it put him closer than I’d allowed. Closer than I’d assessed. I preferred the space around him to be clear.
The usual six feet separated us in the parking lot now, rain beading on metal and asphalt, and I held his gaze without blinking.
“Fucking. Psychopathic. Killer. Robot!” Caleb snapped and turned to leave.
“Does my being all of that upset you?” I asked as he reached his door, and I was so close that I’d caged him between me and the car. My body reacted before my brain caught up.
“Move away,” he said, but I shook my head.
“Does it upset you?” I repeated. “That I watch you, and I don’t like other people touching you.”
“Itupsetsme that you talk about killing a boy in front of his brothers and don’t even blink.”
“I wouldn’t hurtyou,” I reassured him, but clearly that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, because he placed a hand in the middle of my chest and shoved me away again.
“Back off,” he snarled.
I didn’t shift an inch.
The shove had been solid, and I’d let the force take me half a step back again because escalation required calibration, and Iwas measuring him. His breathing was elevated. His pupils were blown wide. There was anger there.
Rain slid down the side of the SUV, tapping the metal in an uneven rhythm. Caleb’s hand was still half-raised between us, as if he was unsure whether to push me again or fist it in my shirt.
He tried to step around me. I could have moved, but I didn’t.
The six-foot distance closed again, not fully blocking, just narrowing the space. I should have stepped back. I didn’t.
His jaw flexed.
“Get the fuck away from me.” I meant it. Mostly. That should have been the end of it.
“I can’t.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
I considered the most accurate answer and chose it. “I don’t know. Maybe testing.” I rubbed my neck, found the scar there, and waited for the next question.
“Testing what?”
