Page 42

“She’s not an object I put somewhere,” he told his brother. “She wanted to try the pole. You want to be pissed at somebody, try the person who actually did the thing.”

That would be me.

“Chief,” I said quietly.

Declan’s head turned. His snarling face landed on me.

I did my best to stand my ground. It was easier than it should have been.

Maybe because five minutes ago I had been upside down in front of a room full of strangers and survived. Maybe because I was angry now.

“Declan, let him go,” I told him.

His eyes went over me.

My hair. My crop top. The bare strip of my stomach. My skirt. His gaze stopped there for a fraction of a second. Then came back to my face.

“Let him go,” I repeated.

He released Clayton immediately.

That should have made me feel better.

It didn’t.

He pushed away from his brother and came straight at me. “I’m not finished with you,” he said in disgust.

His hand closed around my upper arm.

Not painful. Not even particularly rough.

Absolutely unbreakable.

Apparently don’t touch me was a rule that only applied in one direction.

That thought hit hard enough to make my chest ache.

I looked at his hand. Then at him. He noticed.

His grip loosened slightly. He did not let go.

“We’re leaving,” he said.

“Who is we?”

“You and me.”

“I came with Clayton.”

“I know.”

There was so much contempt in those two words that Clayton straightened away from the wall. “Watch it,” he warned.

Declan ignored him.

“Chief,” Rook said.

Declan looked over.