Page 60 of Saving Her

“And what about you? Are you giving her space? Because it doesn’t fucking look like it. Seems to me, with that fucking stripper show, that you’re trying to take advantage of her.”

“I’m trying to show her I’m not a threat. She needs—”

“What she needs is her fucking family,” he cuts me off. “Herrealfamily. And you’re building a wall between us.”

My temples pound harder with his raised voice. “Look, Deck, earlier she was trying to stab me with a fucking sedative-filled syringe and refused to admit she even had a brother. Now she’s willing to at least acknowledge you, and isn’t trying to lay me on my ass. It’s all forward momentum. So ease up and stop acting like another piece of shit who wants to control her.”

His eyes flare. “I’m not trying to control her, you self-righteous son of a bitch. I’m trying to help her.”

“So am I. I think it’s clear whose tactics are working better.”

He chuckles, the sound harsh. “You’re getting on my last nerve, motherfucker. I suggest you back off.”

For anyone else, I probably would. I’d bow out, giving this pounding head of mine a breather from the bullshit. “I can’t. Not when it comes to her.”

His upper lip curls, exposing teeth. “So seduction is the game, is it? Your kink is damsels in distress.”

I scoff and start for the hall. “I’m done with this.”

“Fuckin’ answer me.” He rushes to block my path and shoves at my chest.

The resulting squeeze of my migraine is enough to make vomit clog the back of my throat. I breathe through the need to hurl and clench my fists. “Did she look like a fucking damsel to you?”

“She looks fucking broken.” His nostrils flare, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “She looks like a skeleton of the sister I used to know, and here you are pushing her back into hell.”

“Get out of my way. I don’t have the patience for your shit right now.”

“Myshit?My fucking shit?” He cracks his knuckles. “Then let me put you out of your misery.”

The thought of him knocking me senseless is more comforting than it should be. Unconsciousness would be a blessing. Unfortunately, it’s not an option. “You’re going to hit a guy with a concussion?”

“No, I’m going to hit a guy who’s pitching a fucking tent for my sister.”

“Yeah.” I nod, despite the resulting pound from the movement. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I was pitching a tent when I shoved her out of the line of fire and took a bullet to the head. And I sure as shit was pitching when I tackled her to the ground when Luther was trying to shoot her in the back. So many tents were pitched I could house a fuckin’ army.”

“You think sarcasm is going to get you out of this?” He steps closer. Right in my face. “I can see what you’re up to.”

“Then start swinging. One punch and I’ll be out like a light.”

“Perfect.” He cocks a fist.

“For you maybe. But not for your sister and her friends. As it is, there’s only three of us to take on however many assholes guard Luther’s house.” I throw my arms wide. “But it’s your choice. Do you want instant gratification or do you actually want to help her?”

He jabs a finger at my chest. “Don’t ever fucking question that I want what’s best for her.”

“I’m not questioning that. I’m saying you’re letting your emotions get the better of you. She’s fucking scared. I swear she doesn’t know what she’s doing apart from acting on instinct. And at the moment, the hope that comes with seeing you is obviously too much to take.”

He pauses, blinking slowly as his wrinkled forehead loses some of the tension.

“Stop thinking about whatyouwant and whatyouneed, and let her run this show,” I mutter. “Doesn’t she deserve that much?”

His jaw continues to tick, but eventually he takes a step back, raking a hand through his hair. “I want to help her. I can’t fucking stand being kept at arm’s length after thinking I’d lost her.”

“I get it. Anyone in their right mind would’ve expected your reunion to go down a lot fucking happier than this. But it didn’t and there’s nothing you can do about it. Give her space. And time. She’ll come around.Thenyou can beat the shit out of me.” I shrug. “Or at least you can try.”

He gives a breathy chuckle, the sound vicious. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Delayed gratification will do just fine.” He shoves me again, the whiplash jolting my head and blinding me for an instant.

I close my eyes as his heavy steps leave the room, the sound barely heard over the ringing in my ears. I’m in deep shit here. Any minute now and I could keel over, no punch necessary.

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