“I’ll try.” I’m not sure I want to make promises. I’m not even sure earning her trust is the right thing to do. “Why don’t you freshen up while you’re in here? I couldn’t find any pants to fit you, but I brought in an extra shirt. And there’s a lock on the door, if that helps.”
I don’t wait for a reply before leaving the enclosed space, my steps wonky as I enter the bedroom to come face-to-face with barely contained fury.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’ve done to turn her against me,” Decker seethes quietly, “but I swear on my life, you’re going to pay.”
“She’s in shock. Give her space to sort herself out.”
“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. “Her real family. 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.”
“My shit? 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 what you want and what you need, 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. Then you 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.
Fuck.
I sway with the building weight bearing down on me. I mentally battle to remain conscious.
“I’m sorry he’s taking this out on you.” Penny’s whispered voice acts as a balm to my pain and a fucking trigger all at once.
I open my eyes. She stands in the doorway to the bathroom, Tobias at her side.
“I don’t blame him.” I squeeze the bridge of my nose and start for the hall. “You should get some rest while you can.”
I don’t pause for a reply, I stalk my ass out of there and into the living room, finding Keira, Hunt, Decker, and Torian seated around the dining table.
“Where’s Sarah?” I drag out a chair opposite Penny’s brother to keep an eye on the aggressive motherfucker.
“Escorting Anissa home.” Torian drinks from a steaming mug. “They should be halfway to the jet by now.”
“We’re stranded? Again?” Jesus fucking Christ. We got into this mess because these assholes called our jet back to Portland. Now, we’re stuck all over again. “Is that a good idea?”
“Another aircraft is on standby,” he growls, making it obvious he doesn’t appreciate my questioning. “We can fly out of here at a moment’s notice. Now, tell us what’s going on with her. What’s she playing at?”
“She’s not playing at anything. Her actions could be long-term PTSD. Or shock from today. Who the fuck knows? Only time will tell.”
“Time isn’t something we have a lot of. Especially not if you’re suggesting taking her back to Naxos.”
“Can we drop that line of thought right now?” Decker mutters. “She’s not going back there.”