“Truck!”
Robbie glares at Bastian, and then his fiery stare turns ice cold as it lands on me. A chill runs down my spine at the hatred in his gaze.
“Now!” Aaron roars and I start from the power of his voice.
Bastian’s hand finds my hip, and he pushes me behind him a little farther.
Finally, Robbie turns away, muttering curses.
Aaron watches him go for a moment, then looks back at us with a sigh. “I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s no excuse for this, but please know that his behavior isn’t something we promote at HHJ. Despite several warnings, he continues to be a pain in my ass.”
A dozen thoughts crash in the forefront of my mind, but Bastian speaks first.
“Perhaps he’ll learn this time.”
Aaron’s salt and pepper eyebrow ticks. “Maybe.”
There’s a loud curse and the truck door slams shut.
He sighs again, wiping a hand over his face. “I’m truly sorry. What a horrible welcome to the neighborhood. Is there something I can do to make up to you?”
Bastian looks over his shoulder at me, his cataract covered eyes hiding their snakelike quality.
“If you could just not have him come back for the additional removal, that would be great,” I say.
Aaron huffs a mirthless laugh. “That’s not a concern. My brother gave him one more chance, and that was it, so he’s out. And that wrist’ll keep him homebound for a bit.”
A bit of guilt tries to worm into my mind, but I shut it down.
Robbie was being inappropriate on the job, just the same as if I had harassed my publishing contacts at Waldorf. He deserves this, and it’s not my fault. I said no, and he ignored me.
I bob my head. “Thank you.”
“We’ll call you tomorrow to come back for that staircase and the furniture in the back,” Aaron says, then adds as he’s turning away, “You two try to have a nice day.”
“You too,” I call as my gaze drifts to the passenger side of the truck where Robbie seethes. I can’t help but feel like I’ve just made a lifelong enemy in this small town.
Bastian closes the door, breaking my stare into the void. I look up at him as the olive skin melts away into green with golden scales. His gaze bores into mine as the muscles of his jawline flex.
The adrenaline ebbs and my thoughts come back to me with some clarity.
Bastian protected me.
Not only that, he defended me, and demanded retribution.
I swallow to wet my throat, arid from short, fearful breaths, and mumble a thanks.
His shoulders drop a measure and his clenched jaw relaxes. “He became an unwelcome guest, not contributing to the expansion of my hoard. I was simply doing what dragons do.”
I purse my lips. “But you made him apologize.”
“Yes, well, I…” He scowls, licking his lips. “I had to assert dominance.”
My eyebrows rise skeptically.
His scowl turns into a grimace, and then he disappears in a splat of ink.
He protected me.
