Page 59 of Tear Me to Pieces
In all the years I’ve known Butch, I’ve never seen him in anything but jeans. Tonight he looks like some sort of fucking mercenary or something, dressed head to toe in black. Black tactical pants. Black boots. Black T-shirt. Black?—
“Is that a fucking bulletproof vest?”
“Do you just want me to stand out here while I answer all your questions, or can we at least come inside?” Butch’s eyes shift from side to side and he crowds closer to the small woman with him. “Because I’d really love to get her inside.”
If it had just been Butch, I probably would’ve let him stand his ass out there, but it’s not just him. And while the woman with him doesn’t look afraid, she does look uncertain, and that has me feeling uneasy as hell. Stepping back, I sweep one arm out. “Fine. But fair warning, Myra might come downstairs with her nightstand drawer again, and this time I’m not so sure I’ll stop her if she tries to hit you.”
I’ve known something was up with him since Butch stopped coming around, but seeing what he’s wearing, and the slightly hesitant demeanor of the woman with him, absolutely confirms it.
And it’s time to get to the bottom of shit.
Closing the door, I lock it behind him. When I turn around, I focus only on the woman. “You want something to drink?”
Her eyes narrow behind the thick rims of her glasses as she looks me up and down. “I’m fine.”
Her snapped refusal has me feeling a little better about seeing her here with Butch. This woman might be small, but she doesn’t strike me as the type who would be easily kidnapped, so it’s looking like she might be here of her own free will.
“This is Becca.” Butch tips his head at the dark-haired woman beside him. “I need somewhere safe for her to stay.”
My brows lift as I cross both arms over my chest and lean back against the island. “So you came here for a favor.” I keep my glare on his face. “After breaking in and then fucking disappearing again.”
“She’s in real fucking danger, and this is the only place I know I can bring her where I won’t have to worry.” Butch lays out his reasoning.
And honestly, it only pisses me off more.
“So you brought someone being threatened by God knows who to our neighborhood where our families live?” I shake my head, releasing a bitter chuckle. “You really don’t give a shit about us, do you?” I straighten, dropping my arms. “I wanted to believe you weren’t a piece of shit, but I guess I should have seen the signs.”
Becca’s eyes bounce from Butch to me and then back to Butch. Her forehead furrows in confusion. “Why would he think you’re a piece of shit?”
Butch pulls in a deep breath, his eyes closing as he lets it back out again. “Because he thinks I left everyone here behind to go join a crime syndicate.”
Becca’s eyes continue moving back and forth, like she is watching every move Butch and I make. Analyzing each one and filing it away. “Interesting.”
That has me laughing again. “Interesting isn’t the word I would use.” I spread my arms out wide. “So what happened? Did you fuck around with your new friends and find out they were way too ready to stab you in the back at the first opportunity?”
A little of my anger is shoved to one side by the bite of hurt, and it bleeds into my words. I can’t stop it. Didn’t know what was even coming.
And this Becca chick—whoever she is—doesn’t miss it.
Up until now, her expression has been a little on the chilly side, but it softens as she studies my face. After a few seconds her gaze snaps to Butch. “You have to tell him the truth.”
I’m laughing yet again because this keeps getting fucking better and better. “Sosheknows the truth?”
I don’t even know who this woman is—have never seen her before in my life—but she knows more about the man I lived shoulder-to-shoulder with for years than I do? A man I treated like my brother. A man we all considered family.
Myra comes into the kitchen, thankfully no longer looking like she just sucked my dick, because I would probably gouge Butch’s eyes out of his head for seeing her like that.
Her blue gaze sweeps the room before coming to rest on me. “What’s going on?”
I sent her upstairs as soon as I saw Butch and Becca on the camera, knowing how I’d react to anyone seeing her in the state she was just in. Especially when she and I haven’t firmed up the agreement between us and I can’t say she’s officially mine.
By some stroke of luck, Myra seems to have spent her time upstairs getting out of her work clothes and into something more comfortable. Now, instead of wearing jeans and a fancy shirt, she’s sporting a pair of my sweatpants and one of my T-shirts. So even if she’s not officially mine, it sure as hell looks like she is, and that has my hackles coming down just a little.
I still reach for her, pulling her close just in case there’s still any confusion over who takes care of her and who will cut any man that tries to steal her away. “Butch brought Becca here so we could keep her safe.”
Myra’s gaze zeroes in on Becca, her brows pinching together as she looks the smaller woman over. “Are you safe?” Her eyes jump to Butch before going back to Becca. “With him?”
Instead of answering Myra, Becca lifts her eyebrows and widens her eyes at Butch. “Well?”
