“I didn't ask you to follow me tonight.”
“You're the one who followed me first.” I grabbed the antiseptic from the kit. “And someone had to make sure you didn't get yourself murdered. Now tell me what the fuck is going on before I lose my mind.”
“It's none of your business.”
“Like hell it isn't.” I opened the bottle, poured it on a gauze pad. “You're living in my house. Someone tried to kill you. They went after me to get to you. That makes it my goddamn business.”
Troy's hands were shaking. Just slightly, enough that I could see it. “I'm trying to protect you.”
“By keeping me in the dark? By letting me walk around not knowing someone wants me dead as collateral?” I pressed the antiseptic to the scrape on his ribs. He jerked, swore under his breath. “That's not protection, Troy. That's cowardice.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you. You show up here after six years with danger following you like a shadow, and you think hiding it from me is doing me a favor? You think I can't handle the truth?”
“You don't want the truth.”
“Try me.”
Troy stood up too fast. He swayed slightly, caught himself on the table. “You want the truth? Fine. Someone is trying to kill me. I don't know who yet. I don't know why. But they're not going to stop with warnings. They're going to escalate. And anyone close to me becomes a target.” He wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “That's the truth. Happy now?”
“No.” I moved closer. “Because that's not the whole truth. That's just the current situation. What I want to know is what your life is that brings men like that to your door.”
“The life that keeps you safe.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the only one you're getting.”
I grabbed his arm, pulled him around to face me fully. “Don't you dare stand there bleeding in my kitchen and tell me you're keeping me safe while refusing to explain why I need protecting in the first place.”
Troy tried to pull away. I held on. His skin was warm under my palm, slick with sweat and blood.
“Let go of me, Declan.”
“Tell me the truth first.”
“You can't handle the truth.”
“I'm still your stepfather, Troy. That means I don't get to shut you out when your life is falling apart. That means I have a right to know what the hell is going on.”
His face went white. Then red. Then a dangerous expression flickered in his eyes.
“My stepfather?” His voice was low and deadly. “You want to play that card right now? After everything?”
“I'm just saying?—”
“No. You don't get to say that.” He ripped his arm out of my grip. “You don't get to stand there and pull the stepfather bullshit when it's convenient for you. When you need a reason to demand answers. When you want to put me back in the box you've been trying to shove me into since I got here.”
“I'm not trying to put you in a box. I'm trying to keep you alive.”
“By treating me like a kid who can't make his own decisions? By acting like I owe you explanations about my life?”
“You do owe me explanations when your life puts mine at risk.” I stepped closer. “You think I don't have a right to know why someone's coming after me? Why I got jumped outside my own gym? You think I'm just supposed to sit here and take it while you play secret agent and refuse to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“You wouldn't understand.”
“Try me.”
