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“I…I…”
“Youwhat,” Castle snarls. “You thought I’d just be okay with any of that?”
“I’m sorry,” Stavros chokes. “Seriously. Castle, we’re just friends.”
Castle’s eyes dart to me, standing off to the side. I nod, dazed, before he turns back to Elias.
“If you worked for me, this would be going a very different way right now,” Castle snarls darkly. He drops his hands from Stavros. “But, seeing as you don’t, this is where we will end this.” He jabs a finger against Stavros’ chest, hard. “You might’ve been able to bullshit her about coming out today, but don’t ever try and do it to me, because I can smell bullshit on cocky little fuckwads like you a mile away. Now stay thefuckaway from my wife. This is your only warning.” He leansreallyclose to Stavros, and the younger man’s eyes go wide. “Leave.”
It’s actually hard not to laugh at the comical speed and scrabbling with which Stavros exits, like he’s Road Runner with spinning legs churning to get away from Wile E. Coyote.
Quickly, my bitten-back smile fades as Castle turns to level a menacing glare at me.
I shrug, playing nonchalant, which is my go-to defense strategy and has been ever since I was a kid.
“What?”
I frown at him, as if I’m annoyed that he’s ruined my fun. I call this “The Brat Maneuver™”—another strategy I’ve used for, let’s face it, far too long.
“You had explicit instructions.”
“I’m not your employee.”
“No, Callie,” he snaps, surging against me and grabbing my wrist. “You’re not. You’re my fuckingwife, and I told you tostay. Fucking. Home.”
I glare at him. “Wow, okay. So, we’re back in the nineteen-fifties, then? Stay home, dear. Mind the children, dear. Have the roast and a stiff cocktail ready at six when I come home, dear!”
Castle snorts. “I’ve seen your bedroom at Dimitra’s place. The day you clean house and cook dinner is the day my name is Mickey fucking Mouse.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re a spoiled little princess who’s never learned that it’s not all about her!” he snaps. I gasp when he grabs my wrist tightly. “There’s a potential threat on the streets. We’re leaving. Now.”
I yank my hand free. “No, we’re not.Youmay leave if you like. I’m going to sit here and finish my—”
“You’re going to walk out of this goddamn bar with me right now, or so help me God I’m going to throw you over my shoulder like the misbehaving bad girl that you area andcarryyou out.”
Sweet. Jesus.
I know he means it like “a naughty child” and not “Sir’sbad girl,” which is obviously what my fucked-up, twisted, filthy and depraved little mind wants it to be. But still, when he says it, I feel a throb of something hot explode in my core. I can feel my face flush as my skin prickles with need for him.
“So?” he snaps. “What’s it going to be, Callie. Are you walking out like a grown up, or—”
I pull away from him, turn, and hop determinedly back onto my chair. Facing away from him, I grin to myself, humming with excitement and energy as I calmly continue sipping my drink.
Which is exactly when he grabs me, making me shriek as he hefts me into the air, tosses me over his shoulder with a hand on my ass to keep my skirt down, and marches out the door.
I think I’m in trouble.
I also think I’m probably not meant to be this excited about the consequences.
16
CASTLE
I’m furious.
The problem is, I don’t want to admit—even to myself—why. Yeah, part of it might be this fucking girl’s utter defiance, and the fact that she neveroncejust does what she’s told. Or that she’s a goddamn lightning rod for trouble.
