His mouth was opening and closing, but Dylan couldn’t seem to find words. Slowly, his gaze slid around the assembled group until his stare locked with War’s.
Now, War did smile. “I think you might be the one with control issues, not me.” Because he’d played the scene exactly the way he wanted. Dylan had attacked. He’d defended. Now Dylan would be the one… “Guess you’ll be having another long sit-down with the cops, huh?” Dylan would be the one taken out of the picture. “Have fun with that.”
A guttural yell burst from Dylan. He shoved Cordell as he surged toward War. Immediately, War pushed Rose to the side. You will not hurt her.
But as Dylan barreled past Rose—who was moving closer, not away—War saw her quickly sweep out her foot. She swept it right against Dylan’s rushing legs.
Dylan went down in a shuddering crash.
“Guess you didn’t hear the message the first time.” Rose glared down at him. “You’re fired.”
Chapter Fourteen
“You did it deliberately.”
War reached for a shot glass and poured a quick drink into it before sliding it down the bar toward Rose. Monday night. Armageddon was always closed on Monday.
Dylan had been hauled away. Rose had finished up her day at the station—even stayed to film her anchor segment for the five o’clock news. She hadn’t wanted to go home. He’d seen the tension pouring from her.
A stop by Armageddon had seemed like a good idea. They could grab a drink. Have some privacy. Then he could go upstairs to his new PI office and check some files for additional data about—
“You goaded Dylan into attacking you. That way, you could be the victim.” Her fingers closed around the glass, but she didn’t lift it to her lips. “I suppose you think that was sneaky?”
He filled his own shot glass. Saluted her. “Sneaky. Smart. A sonofabitch move. Whatever you want to call it.” He swallowed down the shot. “He had it coming.” That and a whole lot more.
“Do you always get revenge on those who…ah, have it coming?”
The glass tapped against the bar top. “Why don’t you get to the real questions?”
Her head tilted.
“You heard everything he said to me.”
“I did catch the highlights. Would have been hard to miss them.”
“And now you want to know…are you sleeping with a killer?”
She shook her head.
“No? You don’t want to know? Or maybe you already have the answer.” He should have expected Gary to start digging in his past. Dylan was pulling out all the stops to get Rose away from War. Like that shit doesn’t make you look guilty as fuck, Dylan. What he hadn’t realized was just how quickly Gary would hit paydirt.
Too quickly. Who have you been talking to, Gary?
“I do have the answer already,” Rose replied in a cool-as-you-please tone. “I’m not afraid of you. I don’t think you have some addiction to danger or that you can’t hold on to your control. I don’t worry that you’ll fly into some crazy fit and start attacking people around you.” She stared straight into his eyes. “You’ve never been rough with me.”
“I never would be.”
Her gaze swept over his face. “You have more control than anyone I’ve ever met before.”
Not always, he didn’t. “Uh, you just saw me break your producer’s nose.”
“We both know you could have kicked his ass a dozen times by now.”
True. He’d certainly been tempted.
“And you could have done a whole lot more damage than you did.”
A shrug was his response. Again, though, she was right. With little effort, he could have made Dylan wind up in a body cast.
But that wasn’t who he’d been raised to be. Wasn’t the man who Odin’s parents—and Odin—had helped him to be.
Don’t ever hit first. That had been Odin’s life advice to him. Good advice. Advice Odin’s father had followed up with, Make sure the enemy has it coming.
And then…
And make your blow count.
Dylan was cooling his heels in jail. War figured that sure as shit counted.
“Did being a SEAL teach you that control?” She was still holding her glass. Not drinking from it.
“So…first rule of being a SEAL…” A wry smile curved his mouth. “Baby, you don’t talk about it. Some guy comes in bragging about that life, then ten to one he never served on the team.” As he stared at her, his smile slowly faded. “When I was serving, I learned that you do anything necessary to get the job done. You don’t stop, no matter what. Pain. Fear. Rage. None of that can have a place in you. You focus on the mission, and you get it done.”
“And right now…your mission is helping me to find the killer.”
“Damn straight. I will do anything to get that job done.”
“Is that why you pushed Dylan? You still think he might be guilty even though he was locked up when I got the call?”
“I pushed Dylan—one, because he was a prick who deserved to get pushed. He needs to work on his freaking control. And, two, I did it because, yeah, I’m suspicious as hell about him. I don’t like his focus on you. I’ve handled some stalking cases while I’ve been in the area, and they can get ugly, fast. The stalkers are careful. They know how not to cross the line and get the cops involved. They know how to isolate their victims. Make them feel helpless. Out of options. Then those bastards close in…” He reached for a bottle. Stopped. “My second client when I moved here. She was a twenty-two-year-old woman who was being stalked. She needed proof to get a restraining order. I was getting her that proof. But while I was working on things, her stalker slipped into her house. He had a gun, and he planned to kill her.”
“War.”
“Just so happened, I was coming by to update her on the progress of my investigation. I heard her scream.” He’d never forget that terrified sound. “It was luck that I was there. Luck that kept her alive. I kicked in the door. Hauled him off her.” He’d gotten nicked by a bullet that asshole had fired, but War didn’t see the point in mentioning that. “Stalkers are dangerous. They escalate quickly. With Dylan having pictures of you, being so focused on you…” War shook his head. “I am not going to play with your safety. He needed to know that if he came at you, I’d be there to kick his ass.” A ghost of a smile curved his lips. “Now he also knows that you will kick his ass, too. That was one hell of a leg sweep, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t smile back. “I had this boyfriend once who taught me the move. He kept insisting that I learn how to protect myself. Told me the world was a dangerous place and a woman should always have a few tricks up her sleeve.”
“A boyfriend, huh? And he taught you that phenomenal move? He must have been a freaking prince.”
She swallowed the liquid in her shot glass and pressed the glass back to the tabletop. “We broke up.”
“Because he was an ass.” His gaze didn’t leave her. “A jealous, possessive, not-understanding-what-he-had ass.”
“Sure, okay. I was gonna say we had trust issues, but that works, too.”