The man’s eyes shifted to me.
Calm. Taking me in piece by piece and already deciding where I fit in all of this.
“Who are you?” My voice was steady despite the heat of temper building under my skin. “And how did Taryn come to be in your company?”
“Who the hell are you?”
The big bastard wasn’t giving an inch.
“You’re holding something that isn’t yours,” I said, my voice even as I stepped fully into view, letting him see me clearly now instead of just the outline in the doorway.
I crossed my arms slowly, not for comfort, but because I wanted him to understand I wasn’t rushing this—wasn’t the slightest bit unsure.
“So go ahead,” I added, meeting his gaze without blinking. “Tell me why you think I’m going to let you keep her?”
Out of the corner of my eye, the second man adjusted near the truck, his stance tightening just enough to show he was ready if this went bad, though he still hadn’t stepped in.
Ben didn’t interrupt. Though I knew he wanted to.
The dog barked once, sharp and controlled, the sound cutting through everything else and reinforcing the line it had already drawn.
No one crossed it yet, but if he didn’t hand her over soon, that was going to change.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
BECK
Ididn’t like the way he was looking at me.
Not because he was angry, or loud, or trying to prove something, but because he wasn’t doing any of that, standing there just inside the doorway with a kind of steady, measured focus that didn’t belong on someone who had looked half-dead not long ago.
There was no hesitation in it.
Just an assessment of me as a man. The last words he’d spoken still rang in my ears, making him a problem.
I adjusted my hold on Taryn, pulling her closer so she was more secure against my chest, her head resting against my shoulder as the heat from her skin pressed through my shirt, her breathing uneven but still there.
“I’m waiting on your answer.” The bastard had the nerve to say, as if I was just some rando off the street.
I exhaled slowly through my nose and turned my head slightly to get a full view of him, mirroring his gaze as he studied me — noticing the intensity in his eyes and the possessiveness he showed toward my Fox.
“You have about five seconds,” my voice was low and steady, masking the temper about to explode out of me, “to explain who the fuck you are and why it’s any of your business.”
Could he be an old boyfriend from her past? I didn’t think so, because the guy looked too old for Taryn. He had that rich, smart look, a guy who knew just what he wanted and had no problem getting it. The joke was on him because I didn’t give a shit who he was. This girl was mine, and I wasn’t going to give her up to anyone.
Max shifted in front of me, as his growl deepened, not liking either of our tones with his precious mistress in my arms.
Good.
The more protective of her he became, the better I liked the mutt. At least something in this situation made sense.
He stepped forward, not much, just enough to close the distance between us slightly, but it wasn’t the movement that caught my attention.
It was how fast it happened.
“I’m her stepbrother, and she— is—mine,” he growled the last part, and this time I heard something dangerous beneath his words.
Mr. Calder shifted on the porch, the subtle movement drawing attention back to him just long enough to remind both of us he was still here, still watching. Ready to put a bullet in either of us if this went the wrong way.
