Page 50 of Defiant
He chuckled softly at that. “You are something else, aren’t you?” With his eyes still a bit lower than they should be, he asked, “I assume you didn’t want to come here to tease me like this?” It was like every word he spoke was harder for him to say than the previous one, like being this close to me was a strain on his willpower.
Was it wrong to feel good about having such power over him? Was it bad for me to like the fact that I could bring a reaction like that out of him? Jacob Hall, crumbling into dust in my palm.
“No,” I spoke, pausing, resisting my urge to lean into him, to press my nose against his neck and breathe him in. “I need to let you go.”
Shit. Probably should’ve said it a bit differently.
That got him to snap out of the serious funk he was in, and he took a step back from me, glaring once again. “What?” His brown eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head. “Let me go? Jaz—”
“I’ve thought about it long and hard,” I told him, “and I think it needs to be done. With everything you told me about the Fitzpatricks, I’m not worried about my mom anymore. And the Scotts—”
It was his turn to interrupt me. Jacob scowled as he said, “That Vaughn kid got to you, didn’t he? Fuck, I knew he would. I knew it.”
“It’s not Vaughn.” Well, it sort of was, but not quite. “He doesn’t know I’m doing this.”
The look Jacob gave me right then could kill. “Then what?”
Now was the time I wished I could be close with him, when I wished I could lean my head against his chest and touch him. Hug him. Something. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” I didn’t doubt that what Vaughn had told me was true: soon enough his brother Markus would realize they were being looked into, and I’d never forgive myself if something bad happened to Jacob because of it.
Because of me.
“So, you hired me to look into the Scotts, and now you’re firing me because you don’t want me to look into them?” Jacob frowned. “Make up your fucking mind, Jaz.”
I did not like his tone. Not one bit. “You should be happy that I’m letting you off. They could probably kidnap you and dump your body somewhere it’d never be found.” That was most likely my crazy mind at work, but you never knew these days. Plus, money could hide a lot.
“You think I care about me?” Jacob gestured to his otherwise empty apartment. “You think I have a wonderful life here? Do you think I’m afraid of those fuckers? They shit money, cover up their crimes with green, and get away with it. I’ve known that for years. The Scotts are just like everyone else in Midpark. Maybe worse, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and cower in my fucking boots.” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Don’t say you’re doing this for my own good. You’re smarter than that.”
I had no idea what he was going on about, but I did not like what he’d said before. “You might not care about yourself, but I do. If you ever got hurt because of me, I couldn’t live with that.”
Jacob shook his head, giving me a bitter smile. “No refunds.”
Oh, this guy knew exactly what to say to annoy me, didn’t he? The power went both ways, I guess. “I don’t care about the money.” Hell, I still had no idea who shoved the money into my locker to begin with, anyways, and at this point, I’d given up trying to discover who it was. They clearly weren’t stepping in to own up.
He was barely listening to me, now. “I can’t believe you made me drive all the way here, just so you could fire me.” He shoved the jacket at me. “Take it. We’re leaving.”
“No.”
Jacob looked like he wanted to strangle me, which I guess I couldn’t blame him for. If I was in his shoes, I’d probably want to kill me, too.
“Just because I don’t want you looking into the Scotts doesn’t mean I don’t want you in my life,” I muttered, hating all this mushy gushy crap. I really didn’t do it well.
“Oh, do you want to be friends?” Jacob took on a demeaning tone, and he tossed the jacket over his shoulder, landing it on the floor. He clapped once, totally overdoing the enthusiasm, if you ask me. “I’ve always wanted a friend. It’s what my life is missing. You and I can hang out and talk about your boyfriend Vaughn—”
“Stop it,” I muttered, wanting to slap him. To push him. To do something to snap him out of it. This was not how I was expecting it to go. “You’re being mean.”
He cocked his head, giving me a look that was a bit too demeaning for my liking. “I thought you liked it when I was mean?”
“I like it when you’re grouchy, not when you’re being mean just to be mean.” My lips pursed, and I found myself closing the distance between us, poking him hard in the chest—God, his chest muscles were rock frigging hard. “I don’t like it when you’re prickly just to try to push me away.”
Jacob swatted my finger off his chest, growling out, “I don’t have to push you away. You’re a fucking child.”
I really, really hated it when he called me a kid. Or a child. Or insert any adjective of kid there. Hated it with all of my being. “I am not a kid,” I hissed back, poking him again just to annoy him. Just because I knew he didn’t like it. Call me petty. “I. Am. Not. A. Kid.” Each word came with another poke, until my finger was sore.
Yes, that might’ve been something a kid would’ve done, but what could I say? This guy was trying my patience.
This time he grabbed my wrist, forcing my hand off his chest and holding it to my side. Somehow, the action brought me closer to him—or maybe Jacob closer to me. Either way, our chests touched, both of us breathing hard from the fight, and whatever else I might’ve said or done faded in my mind.
“You…” he whispered, saying nothing else. Before I knew what was happening, his other arm circled my back, holding me against him, as if I was going to try to squirm away. With one hand on my wrist, the other hooked behind me, I was pinned against him with nowhere to go.
