“Oh, I am,” Deck grins, tapping the screen. “I survived.”
Eli grins at Deck, and I interrupt,
“What the fuck are you doing, Deck?”
“Showing my boy here my scars.”
I bristle.
Not your boy.
Mine…Fuck.
Heat flashes through me, sharp and territorial. I swallow it down, but it doesn’t move.
Deck looks at me with this little grin on his lips, as if the fucker knows what I’m thinking. Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?
Eli isn’t mine either. I glance at him, and he has folded himself inward again. Curled up again, waiting. My chest tightens painfully. I crouch without thinking, trying to make myself smaller, safer.
“Eli.”
His eyes flick up to mine before dropping again. My eyes flick to Deck; I raise an eyebrow. He’s frowning. A warning sits in his expression. He gives me the slightest shake of his head, and I look back at Eli.
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes lift again. “It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t,” I say. “I didn’t mean to sound angry, and I’m sorry if I scared you.” His eyes meet mine, and something sharp and fragile settles between us.
Eli finally holds my gaze, and my pulse kicks. I watch as his eyes widen slightly, and something shifts between us. Invisible and weightless but real enough that we both feel it.
My pulse kicks hard. I don’t look away. Neither does he.
Deck catches my eye and jerks his head toward my office.
“Come on.”
* * *
Deck doesn’t wait, just walks away. I follow him into my office, closing the door before leaning on my desk.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Deck asks, folding his arms across his chest.
“My problem?”
He points a finger at me, “Yeah, yours. You’ve been stomping around that kid all day like a bear with a sore ass.”
I scrub a hand over my face. The truth lands heavier than the insult. “Bit graphic.”
Deck frowns at me, and I rub my hand over my face. “Fine, I scared him.”
“Yeah,” Deck nodded. “You did.”
Silence settles between us. Deck studies me for a long moment before letting out a slow breath.
“CJ, whatever happened to him, it isn’t small.”
My jaw tightens. “I know.”
