“I’m not arguing over this. Luca is injured, so he’s the one getting out of here.”
“I’m not injured, Torian. I’m good.” I might feel like I’m suffering the worst hangover of my existence, my eyes seemingly coated in a thin layer of gravel while my head continues to pound. But essentially, I’m good. “It’s a fucking scratch.”
“A scratch?” He approaches, his smile dark as he shoves my chest.
“Fuck.” I stumble backward, my skull clenching as if it’s in a vise. “What the fuck was that for?”
Torian takes a swing, confusing the hell out of me.
I duck and lose my balance. I stumble, fumbling over my feet, my vision darkening as I land on my fucking ass. Hard.
“You’re good?” Torian stands over me, looking down his nose at my fucked-up position on the floor. “Really? You can’t even stay on your feet, which means you’re far from good. You’re a fucking liability.”
“He’s got a concussion.” Penny rushes toward me, her eyes filled with concern as she offers a hand to help me stand. “Are you all right?”
“Don’t.” I bat away her offer and shove to my feet. “I’m not a fucking invalid. And I’m not going back with her.” I shoot her a sideways glance of apology and feel like an absolute prick for the wince plastered across her face. “No offence, shorty, but my place is here. I earned the right to take down those assholes. I’m not leaving until it’s done.”
“You’re injured,” Torian repeats.
“Yeah, well, I’m no fucking doctor but putting me on a jet while concussed doesn’t seem like a brilliant idea either.”
“If you stay, you’re a distraction and I’ve already got enough of those. So go home. Rest up. And if we’re still here once you get back on your feet you can return.”
“I can rest here,” I snarl. “Decker’s the one who wants to take her home.”
“If Deck goes, it leaves Keira and Tobias without trustworthy protection. I may be paying those mercenaries by the truckload, but I need someone on the inside I can rely on.”
Fuck him. Fuck this. “I was reliable last night. I led the entire fucking operation at your father’s house.”
“It wasn’t my brother or sister’s lives you were risking on that mission. And at the time, I was too caught up in my own head to realize how bad your injuries were.”
“This is ridiculous.” I scoff. “Why can’t you get Keira to take her back?”
“I fucking agree,” Decker snaps. “Let Keira do it.”
“No, she stays to look after the kid.” He walks away. “I’m not arguing over this. My mind is already made up. Safe travels.”
I follow him, stalking two steps behind as we enter the secluded hall. “And what the fuck am I meant to do with her once we get to Portland? As it is, my brother can barely handle the responsibility of one woman, but you’ve lumped him with three fucking fragile victims. You expect him to take on a fourth?”
“No, I expect you to take care of it.”
“Torian,” I warn. “Stop fucking with me.”
“I’m not fucking with you.” He turns to face me. “And I’ll never forget what you’ve done here. You’ve gone above and beyond for my family. It’s a debt I hope to one day repay, which is why I’m starting right now by looking after you seeing as though you don’t want to do it yourself.”
“I’m fine.” I launch my fist at the wall, my knuckles breaking plaster, pain shooting to my head. I need to stay here to make those fuckers pay. To make sure any other women are freed. To get Penny her revenge.
Torian raises a brow. “A few short days ago, you were bragging that your macho ex-SEAL ass could kick mine without effort. Now you’re falling on that ass after I throw an air swing. So forgive me for relying on my own judgment to make this call.” He claps me on the shoulder, hard. I’m sure it’s in an effort to increase the pounding in my head. “Keep me updated. I’ll see you in a while.”
He continues down the hall, ending the conversation with a definitive slam of his door. Again, I’m sure it’s just to trigger my migraine.
Fuck.
I slump against the wall.
I’d been apprehensive at the thought of entrusting someone else with Penny’s safety. I’d even contemplated being the one to take her home. Now the reality is so fucking far from comforting it’s almost scary.
I’m not the one who should be looking after her. Not after I slipped subtle flirtation into our conversation. And that isn’t the worst of it. Those words hold no comparison to my thoughts. My fucking obsession.
She shouldn’t be around me.
And I definitely shouldn’t be entrusted with her.
I rest the back of my head against the wall, not moving when Decker enters the hall to storm toward me.
“Don’t start,” I warn. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Too fucking bad.” He stands in front of me, chest puffed, shoulders stiff. “Every time I take a breath you’re getting closer and closer to my sister.”
“Not by choice.”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s by choice, or circumstance, or divine fucking intervention. If you so much as make her sniffle, I’ll fucking destroy you.”
I take his fury. Mainly because I don’t have the mental capacity to retaliate, but also because I’d be equally bitter if the situation was reversed.
“Keep her safe. Keep her happy. Or I’ll…” He pauses, his hostility ebbing as he diverts his focus blankly down the hall. “Just keep her fucking safe, okay?”
“I will,” I vow, then hang my head, despising how this is really fucking happening. And after the bullshit I went through with Luther. The risks I took to take him down. The bullets I dodged. And the one I caught with my thick skull.
“I can go on my own,” Penny’s fortified voice carries from the entrance to the living room. “Nobody needs to escort me.”
I don’t answer her. Don’t even look.
Neither does Decker. All he does is glare. At me. Like this is all my fucking fault.
“If someone can get me to the jet, I’ll make it back by myself. It’s no big deal.”
“You’re not going on your own.” I push from the wall and sidestep her brother to continue toward her. “What’s done is done. There’s no changing Torian’s mind.”
“But you want to stay. And I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Yes, it does.” She stands her ground, reclaiming her warrior status, not letting me pass into the living room. “I won’t take this from you.”
It’s in those words that I realize my protests are truly pathetic.
The day Luther died she told me something that stuck with me. Something I despised.
She implied she was a possession. Explained that she was a gift.
It’s now that I realize no truer words were ever spoken. She is a gift. And it should be considered an honor to accompany her home.
“You’re not taking anything from me, shorty.” I stare into those dark eyes and wish I didn’t feel a thrum of connection. No, not a thrum—a fucking avalanche. “I’m being sent back because of my head and there’s nothing I can do about that. My issue revolves around the promise I made to you. I told you I’d clean house with Luther’s men, and I don’t go back on my word.”