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That wasn’t true, but it wasn’t a complete lie, either. I did trust him. I trusted him, and I loved him something fierce. I just didn’t want to take him down with me if all this blew up in my face. His role in my life was different from Saxton’s role, and I couldn’t see Fox Harrington stepping back and letting me go down in flames alone. He’d burn right alongside with me, and I didn’t want that for him. I didn’t want that for any of them. The guys getting married was the best thing that could have happened to me in regard to what I had planned. Now that they had wives to look after, it was expected that they’d choose them over me. Even Saxton.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere, Harrington.”
His eyes flashed, and before I knew it, he was around the corner, his hand wrapped around my throat, with my back pressed up against the counter. In a voice made to narrate Hell, he said, “I told you to quit calling me that.” I could feel his fingers digging into my neck, and my body trembled with a sickness that made me keep wishing for this man, no matter how unhealthy or unwise. “You call me Fox, or Love, or motherfucking asshole,” he continued to hiss. “But do not call me Harrington. I mean it, Kincaid.” His eyes were like a hypnotizing fire of rage. “It’s all I can do not to strangle the life out of you right now, so don’t fucking test me.” His forehead dropped on mine. “I swear to God…”
My body was caving, my heart was shattering, my mind was spinning, and my soul was crying out in real anguish. I wanted to take him with me. I wanted to be selfish and take him with me into the eye of this fucked-up storm. Unlike the guys who I wanted to protect, I wanted Fox standing behind me as I challenged some of the most powerful people in the nation. I wanted to believe every word coming out of his mouth. He said that he would have followed me into Hell if it meant being with me, and I wanted to take that and hold it close.
“Did you mean it?”
His head lifted from mine, his hand still wrapped tightly around my neck. “Did I mean what?”
“That you would have followed me into Hell if it meant being with me.”
“No,” he answered, and I could feel my entire body take in the impact like a 12-guage to the chest. However, before I could fight him off me, so that I could fall apart, he said, “I will follow you into Hell if it means being with you.”
“Fox…” He said I didn’t trust him with my emotions, but there was no mistaking them in that one word. In the way that I was completely giving into his demand that I no longer call him by his last name.
I felt his other hand grab my hip and his fingers were digging in deep, just like the ones still wrapped around my neck. At this rate, Fox was going to have to cover the marks from his fingers with hickeys or else everyone would cry abuse, no matter how much I liked it.
“I love you,” he hissed down at me. “I love you so fucking much, baby. I don’t care about anything else. Nothing but you. Always you.”
“I love you, too,” I finally admitted. “I’ve always loved you, Fox. I just…I’m sorry-”
His hands were no longer strangling my flesh. Now they were cradling my face. “I don’t want to hear how sorry you are. I don’t care about that. I seriously don’t care if you’re sorry or not. I only care about right fucking now, Kincaid.”
“But-”
“I don’t fucking care,” he repeated. “Hell, I don’t even care if you never love me the way that I love you. I just care that you love me enough and that you’re mine.” He closed his eyes as he dropped his head back. “Just tell me that you’re mine, Kincaid.” He looked back down at me. “Baby, put me out of my fucking misery and just give in.” My heart was full as he begged me to just love him. “Or I swear to God, I’m going to have to just kill us both and end it all.”
Who said that romance was dead?
