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“I know.” I lean back on the couch, stretching my arm along the back of it and staring at the flames. “But I’ll protect her. I’m not gonna let her out of my sight.”
Ethan snickers. “And how are you gonna do that?”
I whip back to scowl at him.
“What? It’s a valid question and you know it.” His eyebrows pull together. “You can’t watch her twenty-four-seven. What, you gonna quit hockey and school to be her personal bodyguard?”
I hate that question. Clenching my jaw, I look away from him, my scowl deep and heavy as I glare at those orange flames. They dance like they don’t know what went down today, partying away in the fireplace, oblivious to the ashy taste in my mouth and the venom spiking through me.
“You need to teach her how to defend herself. If this ever happens ag?—”
“It won’t happen again,” I snap.
Ethan takes a breath. “If this ever happens again, she needs to learn how to throw a punch. Mick said Ray froze up. Maybe if she’d had more confidence, the two girls could have taken him out together.”
“Fuck that!” I squirm in my seat. “I don’t want her feeling that kind of fear again. I don’t want her anywhere near that asshole.”
“Obviously.” He gives me a pointed look when I finally turn to face him. “But that doesn’t change the facts. I’m guessing this Matt guy is not gonna let this go. And he’ll tell her ex, and who the fuck knows how he’ll react. Not to mention all the other sleazebags out there.”
I growl in my throat, fisting my hand on the back of the couch.
“You can’t always be there, man.”
Throwing a glare in his direction does nothing. He meets it head-on, his eyebrow arching.
“Teach your woman how to defend herself. Give her the confidence to face whatever the fuck’s gonna come her way. At least give her a fighting chance until you can get there.”
“Mick can fight… and she still got hurt.”
“Yeah, but it could have been so much worse. My little Black Widow left her mark.” His eyes glitter with pride before he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I hope his balls are aching for weeks.”
Closing my eyes, I resist the urge to tell Ethan he’s stupid and his idea is dumb. The very thought of Rachel throwing a punch doesn’t compute with me. She’s like a gentle lamb or something.
A gentle, terrified one.
Shit.
I hate that he might be right.
And I hate even more that I can’t be there for her whenever she needs me.
My woman.
Ethan called her that, and it sits in my chest like a promise. The idea doesn’t even scare me. Because she is mine, and I’ll do everything in my power to protect her. I’ll be her knight in shining armor. I’ll be her tightest hug. I’ll be a shoulder she can cry on.
But do I really want to be her coach?
I don’t ever want her to have to defend herself like that. I want to do the punching for her.
But shit… what if I’m not there when Theo and Matt come after her again?
The idea makes me want to lock her up safe.
Just the way Theo did?
Thumping the couch with my fist, I bolt off the leather, mumbling that I’m taking a shower. I would normally go for a run, but I don’t want Rachel waking up only to find me gone.
Because even if Ethan’s right, the thought of leaving Rachel’s side right now is killing me.
