Page 40 of Last Man Standing

So I guess he does have feelings. They’re just not aligned with Lincoln and Nova’s wellbeing.

“The other people you’re protecting…” Cautiously, I turn my head and catch his intense stare. “Your mom?”

His jaw tightens, and the smiling guy from a moment ago makes way for fisted hands and swollen arms. “What do you know? Castro assured me of his discretion, which is why I let the motherfucker live. But if he can’t keep his mouth shut⁠—”

“We’ve been sharing a house for three weeks now, Sebastion, which means I hear things. And my brother doesn’t keep secrets from me, so when I asked, he told me you’re Richard Aster’s grandson. Your mom, Richard’s daughter, Arabella, faked her death before you were born, and that was a secret that stayed a secret until recently.”

“I could kill you for knowing that alone,” he snarls viciously. “Men have died for less.”

“I don’t see why the secret has to be kept anymore.” Mock-choke me in the shed, and I’ll lose my ever-loving mind. But when the man voices a legitimate death threat, I somehow find pools of strength and remain sitting right here beside him.

Not afraid.

Not frozen.

Not running away.

I wish Roy had been as upfront back when we were together. Knowing a man’s intentions to harm would’ve at least saved me the torment of gaslighting myself into thinking I was crazy.

“Arabella did what she did to escape her father,” I add cautiously. “Now her father is dead.”

“You know quite a lot.” Sebastion snatches up his phone and jams his thumbs against the screen to unlock it. “Excuse me while I have your brother dealt with.”

“That’s as far as my knowledge goes.” I carefully lay my hand over his phone. “And besides, who am I gonna tell?”

“No one, if I deal with you the way I dealt with Richard. If I was willing to kill my own grandfather, what do you think I’ll do to you?”

Attempt to intimidate me, I suppose. Because you prefer that over vulnerability.

“You were protecting Nova in the summer.” I draw my hand back and wrap both palms around my drink. “You kept her alive, but you also admit that you won’t choose her if your mission pulls you in a different direction…”

He stares hard, burning the side of my face while he waits for me to continue.

“Now you’re protecting me… Ish. As long as protecting me doesn’t interfere with the bigger mission.”

“What are you asking, Scarlett?”

“Would you choose me, or the mission?” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and search his eyes. “If I were in imminent danger, the kind that would lead to my death, and your mother was nearby, potentially in that same danger, or at the very least, at risk of getting a little dirt on her shoes, who would you choose?”

“The mission. Always.” He shoves up from his stool and slips his phone into his pocket, but before he strides away, he places two thick fingers under my wrist and forces my protein shake higher. “I’ve been afraid before. Many times. I’ve seen horrible things, and done horrible things. My sleep suffers because of those things. If the time came and I had to choose…” He swallows. “And my choice can’t be you? I’d feel that for the rest of my life. I’d be afraid. And I would not sleep, for a very long time.” He dips his hands into his pockets and moves away. “Finish your shake, Princess. And call your brother. He’s convinced that your failure to reply to his texts today means I’ve done away with your body and skipped out of town. Probably tell him you love him, too, cause I’m gonna snap his neck the next time I see him. Men with broken necks don’t share secrets.”

15

SCARLETT

MY NIGHTMARES MOCK ME

“Let’s go, Princess! Get up!”

I startle awake to my bedroom door swinging open with a boom. Like a gunshot in the darkness, the heavy wood bounces off the wall and swings back again. But Sebastion is faster, storming into my room and tearing my blankets off.

Tears fill my eyes and join those from my dreams.

“W-what’s happening?”

He wraps his meaty palm around my bicep and yanks me out of bed, jerking my shoulder painfully and setting me on my feet where I sway.

Fear skitters beneath my skin, like angry little vermin intent on driving me mad.