Page 39 of Unplanned Target

Butch’s dark eyes zero in on where his sister touches me, his expression hardening instantly. “Why are you touching him?”

“Oh my God.” Miranda rolls her eyes. “Because I’m a grown woman and I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.” Her hand drops from my body so she can cross both arms over her chest. “And if you want to play that game, then why don’t you explain to me who Becca is?”

“I’m Becca.” The small woman next to Butch lifts her hand. “Butch and I are in a committed relationship.”

I have to smother a smile. Becca’s literal nature is fantastic. It leaves very little room for uncertainty, but also frequently misses the mark of what she’s trying to accomplish.

Miranda’s brows lift. “Committed?” She turns to her brother. “How committed?”

“That’s fucking irrelevant, and you still haven’t answered my question.” He points at my arm. “Why the fuck were you touching him?”

“I already explained to you that I’m a grown woman and I can touch Owen whenever I want, wherever I want.” Her eyes swing to my face. “With his consent of course.”

“Consent is very important.” Allie inserts herself into the conversation. “No, means no. Maybe, means no. I’m not sure, means no.” She smiles sweetly at her uncle. “Isn’t that what you taught me?”

For the first time, I kinda feel sorry for Butch. He’s had these two ganging up on him for sixteen years. Coming at him like a terrifyingly cute version of good cop/bad cop.

Butch’s accusing finger moves to Allie. “Don’t you start with me, Al. You need to be grounded for the rest of your life over the shit you pulled.”

Allie rolls her eyes like her mother did not two minutes ago. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Fucking hell. No wonder the guy’s always about two minor inconveniences away from totally losing his shit.

“I know you didn’t just call me a fucking drama queen because I’m pissed you tried to take on a human trafficking ring by yourself.” Butch’s eyes are bulging a little, and I’m not sure if it’s from pain or exhaustion or frustration. Probably all three. “Without telling anyone, with no phone, and knowing damn well what could happen.”

“The reason I was safe is because I knew what could happen. So technically, I was prepared.” Allie’s spine straightens, chin tilting defiantly. “And I did take a phone. Just not my regular phone, in case they could track it.”

Butch is probably in kind of a tough spot right now. On one hand, his niece going missing likely terrified him. On the other hand, his niece managing to get information while also not being abducted, is kind of impressive. Especially considering she’s only sixteen.

But Butch doesn’t seem to be leaning into the impressive portion of the situation right now. He’s still stuck entirely in the terrified part. And, unsurprisingly, a terrified Butch, is an angry Butch.

“I don’t give a shit if you thought of every possible scenario and planned accordingly.” Butch’s voice is shockingly loud considering how pasty and sweaty he is. “You never should have gone to that coffee shop.” His hand is shaking as it drops to his side. “But you refuse to listen, and now the house your mother has worked so hard to pull back from the fucking brink is trashed, she was almost fucking shot, and has to figure out how in the hell to get you to school two and a half hours away while also trying to salvage her career.”

For the first time since all this started, Allie seems to grasp the reality of what she actually did. Her eyes turn shiny and her chin wobbles as she curls inward on herself. After staring her uncle down for a few more seconds, she spins on one heel and runs away, going in the direction of her upstairs room.

“Now look what you’ve done, you fucking asshole.” Miranda turns to follow Allie.

“How am I the fucking asshole?” Butch scoffs. “You won’t control your goddamn kid. So technically this is your fault.”

I know Butch is in pain. I know he was scared. I know there’s a lot going on in his head right now.

But he just crossed a line, and I’m not gonna let it slide.

There’s a good chance that what I have to do is going to ruin any hope Butch and I have of building a decent working relationship, but he has to know what he just said cut Miranda deep.

So, without a word or warning, I take a step forward, and swing a right hook directly into his jaw.

It’s not a hard hit—I don’t actually want to hurt him—but he needed to know what he did wasn’t acceptable. That I wasn’t going to tolerate it.

But even a restrained punch is more than enough to send him dropping like a rock right now.

To her credit, Becca manages to get under Butch’s arms to soften his fall, lowering him the last bit to the floor as his eyes roll back in his head.

“Sorry.” I’m apologizing to her. Not to him. He deserved it.

“I told him not to leave the hospital.” She fans her hand back and forth in front of his face. “You know he’s going to try to hit you back, right?”

“Not right now he isn’t.” I step toward them. “Let me help you get him up so we can get you guys into a room.”