“I’m right behind you,” he says again, trying to back away, but I don’t let him.
“I can’t, Winger. I can’t leave you.” I’m not trying to be a whiny brat, but there’s no way I can make my feet move if he’s not next to me.
He must be able to see the truth on my face, because he finally relents with a stiff nod. The walk back to the car takes twice as long in the trees, and I don’t leave the woods until I see our vehicle.
I’m a sweaty mess as he backs out of the long driveway faster than he should, but I’m not going to say anything about it. He seems kind of pissed.
Once we’re back on the road, he drives toward the city in tense silence. “I warned you that it doesn’t always go as planned,” I finally tell him when he shuts the car off.
“If you would have just stayed here, I could have ended it right then,” he counters.
“What?” I gape, looking over the top of the car. I know he likes it when I let him open the door, but I’m too frustrated for that right now. “You would have just gone in there, guns blazing” —I wiggle my arms around— “not knowing what the hell was going on or what you were walking into?”
Winger’s lips thin, and he looks around. I realize my mistake then. I really need to get myself under control. Luckily, there’s no one else in the underground garage at the moment. I lock my lips and close the car door with care, so it doesn’t slam.
The ride up in the elevator is spent with each of us on opposite sides of the car. When the door opens, little Miss Can’t Take a Hint is standing there, waiting. I glare at the side of her face as her cheeks pinken while she stares at my man.
Winger extends his hand back to me, proving that even if we’re both aggravated, we’re still on the same team. I grab his hand and wrap my other fingers around his wrist, providing a visual that he belongs to me.
“If you’re as desperate as you seem, he’ll probably be dicking me down a few more times tonight, so you might want to get some batteries if you want to keep up.”
Her gasp as I pass only fuels the maliciousness filling me, and I laugh as Winger hauls me away from the elevator, chuckling softly.
When the door closes, shutting her and everyone else out, I release his hand and stalk over to the kitchen while he trails behind me, not giving me an inch of space.
“I do not go guns blazing anywhere. I would have disabled the cars and called for backup if I thought I needed it.”
I throw my hands up in the air. That didn’t even cross my mind. “Wecould have done that.”
“I am not walking blindly into some shit show with you there. I never should have agreed to let you come,” he shouts.
“Too fucking late,” I snarl. “And just in case you need a reminder, this isn’t about you. It’s my problem that I’ve been dealing with on my own.”
“Wrong, you are mine, which means they made it my goddamned problem when they fucked with you!”
“Ugh! You can’t say shit like that when I’m mad at you.”
Winger lifts one eyebrow, telling me without words that he’ll say whatever the fuck he wants, whenever the fuck he wants, then snaps, “Deal with it. Besides, you don’t have any reason to be mad at me.” He sounds incredulous.
“You were going to risk yourself.”
“That was not a risk.” He shakes his head, but his tone is a little softer.
I match his energy. “It could have been if you stayed by yourself. What if someone came out and spotted you?”
“I could have killed them easily, Max.” He flattens his lips in a harsh line and tilts his head to the side, seeming to realize what he said. We know by experience the walls in this place are thin as hell, so we both need to be more careful with our words.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I admit after a prolonged silence. “There was no way I could leave you there, it was physically impossible.”
“But I’m supposed to drag you around, put you in danger, and just deal with it?” His eyes are still wild, but he’s no longer yelling.
“You’re not putting me in danger, you’re helping me at a great risk to yourself.” Why doesn’t he get this?
Winger stares at me for several long seconds. I start to fidget and think about turning around, but he finally says, “I’m risking nothing. They can’t touch me, Max, and I will ensure they never touch you again. I’m going to make a few calls and get this shit sorted. I will be in that house tonight.” He holds up a finger, stopping me from speaking when I try to tell him I’m coming too. “You will let me and my men clear the house, then I will let you in.”
His tone makes it clear that this is not up for debate. I know if I argue, he’ll leave me here just like he promised earlier. I think about his offer, weighing my options.
Having his men there would be safest for him, but I hate the thought of them knowing why Winger is doing this or that he’s doing it for me at all. It makes me feel weak and undeserving.
