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“You could fight it out,” I said with a shrug. “But there isn’t a safe arena in this city that can keep it on the downlow.”
He stared at me, mouth working.
“Take me.” He was wringing his hands, breathing shallow. “She’s… she’s good, okay. And she’ll probably try to help, or feel bad if she doesn’t. I don’t… I don’t deserve that.”
“I’m not going to be your rut-nanny.”
It was a lie. I’d be a rut-nanny to watch Rook have the shit beaten out of him in the pits any day.
But I wanted him to beg.
“Fuck! Please! I… I need you to. She can’t… she can’t see me like this. Y-you’re the only one who can do this for me.”
“Why?” I asked, a little surprised.
“I’m not… I don’t… like who I am, Ebony. I want…” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to come up with a way to say it.
Damn. He looked like he was about to cry again.
“You want me to make this miserable?”
“That’s what you do, right? Break people?”
I grinned. “I don’t know if you deserve the privilege, Harrison.”
His expression turned into a snarl.“You’re the one who said she needs me!”
I sighed, like it was a hard choice. “Fine. I’ll clear my schedule and make this the worst rut of your damned life.”
“Wait… Wait…” His eyes darted down to his phone. “First, we need to do something.”
“What?”
“It’s… it’s for her. And my parents. And anyone who watched that fucking interview where I didn’t defend her. I need to fix this. All of it.”
I raised my eyebrows, grin widening as he told me what he wanted.
“You’re going to need to be out for that,” I said. “Can’t half ass it. She deserves better.”
“Yeh, I know. I want everyone to know she’s the only thing in the world I care about.”
* * *
“If you put one dent in my Lambo, I’ll carve you into pieces and toss them over a bridge,” I snapped as we sped down the streets of New Oxford to our first stop.
They didn’t build these cars to be alpha proof, which was a sin. If any company came out with a car for alphas, I’d be first in line.
“How many times?” Rook asked.
“How many times what?” I glanced at him sideways as he clutched himself in the passenger seat of my car.
“How many times…?” He groaned, a low growl slipping from his chest as if he couldn’t hold it back, but when he spoke, he was stifling a grin. “Have you cut people up and dropped them over bridges, you fucking psycho?”
I grinned. “Drunk or sober?”
He loosed a rather unsettling laugh, then another growl.“FUCK!”His back slammed against the seat, one knee coming up.“I feel like I’m on fire.”
“Watch the fucking dash!” I snapped.
