Page 11 of Wilde's End
I hate him for it.
Thankfully, it won’t be a problem for much longer.
On a night out, he’s exactly the type of man I’d pick out of a crowd. Here, in my town, he’s exactly the type of man I never want to see again.
So I cross to the bedroom window and shove it open so hard the glass shudders in the frame.
The man’s jolt upright takes a few seconds too long to be useful under attack. He grunts, then mumbles something unintelligible as he sets an unsteady hand to his forehead. At first, I worry he’s going to roll right over and fall back asleep, but slowly, his eyes blink open. Once. Twice.
Then they drift to me.
He watches me for one sleepy moment before he jumps so hard his back hits the wall. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Wilde,” I forcefully admit, folding my arms across my chest to stop the way my hands keep folding into fists.
Hudson’s jaw is working madly like he’s trying to choose how to respond, and his gaze keeps darting to the door. The last thing I want is to have to deal with all three of them when I can have him pass on my message, so I get my warning in before he can call for help.
“Leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you gone.”
His fists curl into the bedding as the shock melts away and a panicked sort of anger takes over. “What thefuckdo you mean by that?”
“Keep your voice down,” I force out through my teeth.
He chokes on his response. “You’re not going to break in here and tell me what to do.”
“I can and I am.”
“Fuckyou.”
“I said to keep your damn voice down.”
“Make me.”
“It would be too fucking easy.” The way he’s bringing my blood to boiling has me desperate for a fight. He’s supposed to be scared. Supposed to cower and promise to leave.
I underestimated him.
Hudson meets my eyes. “My brothers will get here before you have a chance to lay a hand on me.”
A bitter smile tries and fails to cross my face. “I have no interest in touching you. I’m here to talk.”
“Talk?” The way he spits the word makes it clear he doesn’t believe me. “You broke into my house totalk?”
“Yes.”
“Get out.” He isn’t bothering to keep quiet, and it’s rattling me.
“Itoldyou to shut up.”
“And I toldyouto fuck off.”
I move closer to his mattress, standing at full height, and look down at him. He’s coiled for a fight and watching me like a caged animal. “Don’t test me,” I warn.
The blond man snorts, the wariness slipping from his face as a spark of defiance takes over. “Youbroke inhere. You don’t get to make the calls.”
