Page 228 of Chaos Kills

He blinks at me, and I swear to God, he’s so fucking infuriating that I’d rather deal with Levi’s loud-ass mouth than this.

It’s a lot more frustrating, apparently, when someone isn’t giving you a piece of their mind or answers as to why they did what they did.

“We done here?”

Some more staring, silence and another prick at my temper later is when I make the third attempt to move, but Ozzy refuses to make it easy.

I swear the dick moves because he’s in the exact same spot he was before.

“Listen, asshole, I can do whatever I want, with whoever I want, when I want to do it. This is a marriage of convenience. I don’t have to follow any weird-ass, unspoken rules that you haven’tspokeyet. I’m notyours.”

Ozzy’s palms suddenly come out and shove me backward, then again, until my ass hits the furniture, and, if he does it once more, I’m going over.

I hit a nerve.

“What?” I snap through his continuing lack of speech. “Did Torin tell you to watch over me so that I don’t fuck anyone—” His palm seizes my throat and squeezes, cutting off my next words.

I feel him shudder underneath his own touch on my skin. His breathing sporadic and frantic as he bores daggers into my head.

“I don’t read minds, so if you’ve got something to say, say it.” Ozzy growls, deep in his throat, but that’s all I’m given. Bending forward a bit, I leer, “Do it.”

His blues ping-pong between mine, as if he’s searching to see if I’m serious.

My palm falls to his chest, and he suddenly flinches back as if I burned him, stumbling two steps before defensively raising his weapon between us.

I shut my fucking mouth for once.

He doesn’t like to be touched. I know that.

However, he did the other night, and taunting is alright to a degree, just no touching while doing it.

I don’t make another move or say another thing as I watch him calm down. The grip on his gun loosens, but he still doesn’t drop it.

Maybe he thinks I’m going to try again, or he needs it between us because I broke some level or degree of comfort for him.

Regardless, I found a limit, and I don’t want him to get anxious around me. I know how that feels.

“What do you want from me?” I solicit evenly. “I won’t be around forever.”

“No more men.”

I gape at him in disbelief and quickly disregard the gun pointed at me because he’s not going to use it.

It’s for him.

“It’s Travis,” I reply as if that explains everything. “He’s Levi and my?—”

“I said no,” he leers, jaw tight as his blue orbs turn a dark shade, almost black. “No more.”

I demand to keep my retort inside because I’m not arguing.

I’m leaving.

And Ozzy can’t stop who comes with us or who I speak to afterward.

After a few beats, he dips his head and drops the gun, moving for the door before opening and closing it with a careless thud.

Apparently, he wants to keep the circle tight.

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