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Just to show her how fucking easy it is to take hold of her.
But I stop that line of thought. She knows that. And I’m not here to traumatize her. Just keep her safe.
“You know this whole fucking bullshit isn’t over with the Gheata family.”
“It is for me. I see one of them, and I will wipe them from this planet. I have a gun and I know how to use it.”
At least she has a fucking weapon. “Did you take your gun today?”
“You followed me.”
“Did you bring your gun when gallivanting around the city?”
“You fucking followed me, Christian? Adding stalking to your list of skills? Can’t get any now your little Gheata got caught?”
I’m on her so fast I can’t stop myself. I grab her wrist tight. “Don’t you dare fucking go there.”
“You will fuck anything anywhere, anytime, Christian. You’re a whore who can’t keep his dick in his pants and—”
“You don’t think I have to sleep every night knowing my part in all that? Knowing because the bitch I was fucking on occasion was out to cause trouble? You don’t think that if I could take it back, I would?”
“Christian,” she whispers. “You’re hurting me.”
Fuck. I let her go like she’s searing my palm.
Pushing my hands through my hair, I pace. “You drive me fucking insane.”
“Good thing you don’t need to be here.”
“Yeah, I do.” I stop and point at her. “You don’t listen to a fucking thing, not one single warning. Just because we killed the pricks doesn’t mean you’re not in danger. There’s shit going down here.”
“Angel,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Reaper. I’m having words with them.”
“You refuse protection, but this time, Sarah Connor, you’re not getting the chance.”
“Sarah . . . as inThe Terminator? How old are you and your references? And for your information, I’m in control. I don’t need you or want you.”
There’s a sweet soft rose that touches her cheeks, telling me she might be lying. Good thing for her I’m not about to test my little blooming theory. Good thing I don’t want to.
“That makes two of us, not wanting or needing. Protection, on the other hand? I’m here for that. Orders.”
She raises a brow. Fair fucking point. We both know all it would take is for her to text her brother and know no one gave me orders. Unless you count me. Which I do.
“I don’t have time for this, Christian.” She straightens, goes to her desk, pulls her laptop around, and does something on it.
Most likely pretend, since it isn’t on. I can see that from here. Silently, I count down from fifty to calm my blood and temper. I’m a fucking stone-cold killer, dangerous. Men run and piss their pants. But Mia?
She pushes buttons and sends temperatures soaring.
“You don’t have time?” I shake my head. “I don’t have time for your bullshit.”
“Makes two of us.”
“You don’t have time for your own bullshit?”
Her gaze flashes to me. “Yours, Christian. Now, go away, I’m busy.”
“Might help if your computer is on. Unless you’re doing some magic-powered stuff there.” I wave a hand in the air. Outside, music suddenly blares to life.
