Page 109 of His Fury

If I wanted it to—at least, that’s what I was being offered. I really needed to talk to him about this, but I had other things on my mind that were taking precedence.

I let myself in, seeing no other cars in the driveway, but that meant nothing. They were like superheroes, and I had no doubt that Rye, at the very least, had a Batcave or something similar. Or maybe he just utilized the garage, unlike me.

The thought of Rye as Robin to Zayn’s Batman had my mind going down a dangerous path of what handy little gadgets Zayn would have for me in the bedroom.

Then I realized Zayn was definitely not superhero material; he was more likely the villain of the story, prone to tying me up rather than saving me, andthatthought took my mind down a much darker, kinkier path.

Fighting the blush that I felt bloom on my cheeks, I left mytote on the console table in the hall and toed off my shoes, aware of the silence in the house. It wasn’t lonely—not quite—but the quiet settled on me differently tonight.

The man from earlier had unsettled me. All day, I felt as though I was looking over my shoulder, and the thought of being watched was even more disturbing without knowingwhowas watching me. Zayn had sent Jayden, and I knew there were others, but the man from today was definitelynotone of Zayn’s men.

It had been such a brief,bizarreencounter; it wasn’t even threatening, just a reminder that I wasn’t invisible anymore. I hadn’t told Zayn. Not yet. Not because I wanted to hide it, but because I needed to understand it first.

What it meant.

What I would do if it happened again.

I made my way into the kitchen and pulled up short when I saw Rye seated at the breakfast counter, a tablet open in front of him, a mug of coffee in his hand. He wore a light-gray suit with the jacket beside him. His vest remained unbuttoned. He was never relaxed, always ready to go at a moment’s notice.

I had seen Zayn in casual clothes, but I had never seen Rye in anything other than suits. Did he sleep? What did he do to relax? He appeared to be a man who didn’t believe in comfort but had chosen to tolerate it for a few minutes by removing his jacket.

“You’re staring,” he said without lifting his eyes. “And you’re late.”

Busted.I walked into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. I was starving. “I wasn’t aware I had a curfew.”

“You don’t.” He sipped his coffee. “But you have eyes on you, and you should know when you’re being followed.”

I pulled my head out of the fridge and looked at him around the side of the door. “Wh-what?”

Rye set his mug down. “Zayn told me to keep watch.” He shrugged. “You are shit at being subtle when you get spooked.”

I closed the fridge door and walked to the breakfast counter. I took a seat across from him. “You were watching me?” He didn’t respond, but I knew he was. “I don’t want to be watched, Rye.”

“Too bad. That’s not how this works.” He didn’t say it unkindly; rather, his tone was plain. The words fell heavily—like stones dropping into a well.

I struggled with what I wanted. I wanted this man to like me. Okay, he was never going to like me, but I would taketolerateme. I also wanted them not to feel like I needed to be watched.

The silence lingered between us, and then I asked, “You think I’m a liability, right?”

Rye narrowed his eyes slightly. “Yes.”

“Why?” I leaned forward. “No bullshit, Rye, tell me why I’m a liability.”

“You aren't suited for this.”

I made the same sound as a buzzer when the answer was wrong. “Try again.”

He leaned back, his eyes narrowed with focus. “Not a fan of the sound effects, Barnie.” He tilted his head slightly. It resembled the way Zayn did it so closely that I couldn't hide my surprise at how alike they were. “What’s wrong?” he asked sharply.

“No-nothing,” I stammered. “Try again.”

“You’re new to this,” he said without any preamble. “You’re new to the relationship you have with Zayn?—”

“I love him.”

Rye didn’t miss a beat. “You’re in love with a man whom most people are afraid to stand next to. I think you’re smart enough to understand that comes with a cost.”

“I thought you were the cost,” I joked lightly, but it fell flat beneath Rye’s steady gaze. “I don’t want to be a burden to him.” I took a deep breath. “Or you.”

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