Page 174 of Three Reckless Words

“No. Winnie, what’s going on?”

“It’s a trap,” she hisses. “Another hit job from my dad. I just thought… I thought maybe he was kidding, or maybe he wouldn’t do it, but he already has. Hehasand I’m so sorry.”

My vision shakes.

“Wait, wait. You talked to your dad again?” I do my best to keep my voice under control, but my earlier lust dissolves into pure frustration. “Winnie, I told you not to call him, didn’t I?”

“Yes, while you sit up here in your office, stressing over how my family keeps destroying your life.” She sighs, flipping her hair. “I had to do something.”

“It’s not your battle.”

“But it is.” She shuffles back off my lap and I let her.

She may be eerily beautiful when she’s mad, her coppery hair static and her eyes flashing like angry seas, but that’s not enough to distract me from the fact that she’s complicating this fuckery when she doesn’t need to.

I told her to let me deal with it.

Any legal crap is out of her league.

Not because she’s stupid—no, quite the opposite—but because this isn’t something she has any experience with. If her old man wanted to approach her and fix this with a family talk, he would’ve done it by now.

But he didn’t.

He’s using his office to go full scorched earth, and that’s how I have to respond. Winnie doesn’t have the expertise, and now there’s a very real chance she’s made it worse.

“This is my problem,” she insists, her voice choking. “It’smyfather and this is all because of me. Because he wanted to marry me off to that scumbag and I said no. Because you tried to protect me.”

“It’s my company and my problem, Winnie.” I stand, too. She seems so small suddenly, this fragile slip of a woman I’d risk the universe for. “Let me fix it.”

“Archer… I know you mean well,” she starts, but I shake my head, cutting her off.

“This isn’t about meaning shit. It’s about dealing with the problem in the most effective way, head-on.”

“I can’t just sit on the sidelines. Sorry, but I can’t. I’ve been doing that my entire life and that’s what got me into this mess.” She reaches out to brush my cheek, delicately feeling my beard. “For the first time in my life, I’m standing my ground. I’m not running. That shouldn’t destroy me. And I certainly can’t let my problems destroy you either.”

I push her hand away, irrationally annoyed at this destruction talk.

Carroll Emberly hasn’t wrecked anyone yet.

God willing, he won’t, if I have my way—and I will.

Compared to feeling your friend’s heart stop while he bleeds out in your arms on Syrian soil, this is a high school drama.

“You worry about your damn bees. Leave the legal crap to me. That’s what I pay my people through the nose for,” I say, my voice too harsh. She flinches back. I see it, but I can’t stop myself. “And if your old man’s so corrupt he’s willing to step in and protect the bastard you got away from, I’ll bring him down, too. I’m not scared, Winnie. I’m not afraid to fight.”

She stills, and for a second, I’m sure I’ve said the wrong thing.

Whatever else he is, he’s her father.

Then she exhales and shakes her head. “I know. I just wish you’d let me help.”

“This isn’t something you can help me with.”

“Please don’t push me away, Archer,” she says, her voice smaller than ever.

“I’m not pushing. I’m protecting you, protecting both of us.”

She sighs.

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