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“God. Stop.” Lyrica pushed her way from the table and jumped from the chair, avoiding Dawg’s attempt to pull her to him as she faced all four men now. “You two fight over me like I’m some trophy to be won,” she cried out. “No one can make this choice but me. It was my fault they found something to use against him. It’s me some bastard wants to see dead, not the two of you,” she informed her brother and her cousin harshly as she crossed her arms over her breasts, fighting back the icy chill of terror that threatened to grip her. “It’s my fight, too.”
“Because of him.” Natches threw his hand in Graham’s direction. “If he hadn’t been lusting after you like a buck in rut then you wouldn’t be in danger.”
“If I hadn’t been teasing him every chance I had, then maybe he wouldn’t have been like a buck in rut,” she yelled back at her cousin, furious with the accusations flying from his lips. “For god’s sake, Natches, you’ve not exactly lived a safe and peaceful life from what I’ve heard.”
“Maybe that’s what I wanted for you and your sisters,” he snapped back at her. “I didn’t want you facing the danger the women we love have had to face.”
“And who are you to dictate the life I was meant to live?” she retorted fiercely. “If something happens to Graham, I’ll never forgive myself. It will be my fault.”
“Like hell,” Graham snapped, glaring back at her. “This is no one’s fault, Lyrica, but the one who began it.”
“That won’t change how I feel,” she argued back, silently daring him to attempt to send her away. “Don’t you understand that, Graham? If I hadn’t sent that letter then the chances of them guessing at a weakness would have been nil. I put the ammunition in their hands, and the fact that I didn’t mean to do it doesn’t count. If I leave, they’ll still follow me.” She pressed her hand to her chest in emphasis. “It’s me they’re after to make you pay for attempting to stop them from committing a crime. If they can’t find me, then they’ll just wait, because I can’t stay hidden forever.” She shook her head at the thought, at the sheer desperate loneliness that would fill her. “I can’t live like that. I’ll face what happens here, with you. At least when it’s over, I’ll know some bastard didn’t make me cower.”
Son of a bitch, how was he supposed to protect her when she stood in front of him like that, her eyes blazing with courage and a certainty that this was her fight, even though it wasn’t.
And she had no intention of leaving. He could see it in her eyes, in her expression. She wouldn’t walk away, and if they made her, she wouldn’t stay away.
“They’re right, baby,” he said softly. “If you go with them, just for a little while . . .”
“While you set yourself up as a target instead?” Tears glittered in her eyes as she seemed to tighten her arms around herself. “And that’s what you’ll do, isn’t it, Graham?”
“It’s what I’m trained to do,” he admitted, wishing he knew why his chest was so tight, why he wanted nothing more than just to hold her.
“It won’t matter what you’re trained to do.” She shook her head. “They’re after me, not you.” Her gaze moved to her brother and cousin then. “I suggest we figure out exactly how to use the fact that they probably have no idea that we know what’s going on or why they’re targeting me. You know what Graham’s facing now. Help him fix it. And I’m not leaving here until it is fixed.”
She turned and walked slowly to the doorway, then turned back to stare at Graham for long, silent seconds.
“I’ll be upstairs.” Turning to her brother, then to Natches, she gave them a small smile, one filled with love and regret. “Let me know when the two of you have a plan. Leave me out of the loop, and I promise you, I won’t forget it.”
She left the room then, catching Natches’s grimace and knowing that had been exactly what was on his mind. His first inclination was to wrap those he loved in cotton and surround them with bubble wrap to keep them safe.
He may as well get used to the fact that she had no intention of being a spectator to her own life.
It would be good practice for him, she decided. Several months before, his daughter, Bliss, had confided to Lyrica her dream of joining Homeland Security or the FBI when she was older. She wanted to bring men such as the ones who’d attacked her aunt Eve to justice.
She hadn’t told her father yet.
Lyrica sighed as she headed back to Graham’s suite. Maybe Bliss should wait awhile, a long while, before informing her father of those plans.
EIGHTEEN
“Hit me again, Natches, and I promise, I’ll hit back,” Graham informed the other man mildly as he watched Natches’s fist clench atop the table. “And I’m twenty years younger than you are. I promise, I do hit harder.”
Natches’s hand jerked, one hard finger pointing back at Graham as he snarled. “You are becoming a pain in the fucking ass!”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to drop the F-bomb.” Graham arched his brow in query at the memory of Chaya’s disapproval whenever Natches used the word. “And that pain you’re feeling is probably hemorrhoids. I hear stress from screwing with everyone’s lives can actually cause those.”
Natches turned to Dawg with a fierce glare. “I don’t like him anymore. Get Lyrica. We’re leaving.”
Dawg breathed out as though tired and shook his head, exasperation marking his expression and filling the pale green of his eyes.
“Lyrica’s not leaving.” Rising from the table and carrying his cup to the sink, Graham felt certain that the danger revolving around Lyrica had begun in Afghanistan.
“Graham.” Dawg sighed heavily again, and Graham could hear the objection rising from him.
“Removing her from sight isn’t going to help,” Elijah said, choosing that moment to weigh in. “Just as Lyrica said, the focus is on her. Besides, trust me, once Doogan learns the specifics of this, he won’t allow it.”
“Chatham Doogan can kiss my ass!” Natches enunciated savagely, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a primal snarl. “That fucker gives me acid reflux for real.”
