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I’m really in danger. My dad wasn’t just exaggerating. I could really be taken by these people. Or worse.
The thought has a cold sweat breaking out over my brow, and I move in closer to the huge body in front of me.
Most would see Doc as intimidating, and honestly, he kind of is, but right now his size is reassuring as hell.
He backs up a few more steps until I’m wedged between him and the wall, and the heat he’s emitting is nothing short of stifling.
I look around for my dad, but I can’t see him. If he’s smart, he’s ducked behind something, but his love for me makes him stupid. That’s pretty fucking evident seeing as he wants to marry me off to his worst enemy.
“Edward, don’t be an idiot,” Doc warns.
“Get her out of here,” he demands and my stomach sinks. Not without him. Not without my dad.
I peek around his body in time to see my father raise a gun toward the doorway, and my stomach plummets. I didn’t even know he had one, let alone know it was close to where I’ve watched television with him every night for the last ten years.
Doc curses under his breath and reaches between us, quickly producing his own gun. Wait a damn minute. Didn’t he just fly into Boston? Where did he get a firearm in such a short space of time? Or maybe I don’t want the answer, because it’ll just be another reason I can’t marry this man.
He turns his head until our eyes lock, and there’s something in the darkness that makes my breath catch in my throat. He’s deadly. I don’t need to know anything about him to know that.But there’s a look of concern that almost makes some of my hardness toward him soften. Almost.
“I need you to stay behind me, Isla. Do not get any grand ideas of running because I guarantee they have the house surrounded. I will get you out of here, but I need you to do exactly as I say.”
I don’t get a chance to argue before he turns back toward the doorway. My heart beats heavily in my chest, the organ working overtime.
I thought these kinds of things only happened in the movies. This is why I stayed away from Bryant, because I didn’t want to be involved in anything like this.
And yet I’ve found myself here anyway.
I hold on to the back of Doc’s black T-shirt, needing something to keep me grounded as my thoughts spiral out of control.
All the ways this could end and the scenarios that could play out right in front of me, it all whirls around in an endless loop of panic that I can’t afford right now. The last thing any of us needs is for me to have a meltdown.
Footsteps grow closer until they pause in the doorway, and a chuckle fills the room. “Edward.” The man regards my dad. “Doc. I haven’t seen you in these parts in a long time. Last I heard you were the Saint James family’s resident doctor.”
“Keeping an eye on me, Spade?” he grits out, and if it were possible, my heart would leap halfway across the room at his name.
This is the man who is trying to take me. Who is trying to take the sins of my father out on me.
That thought has me holding on to Doc’s shirt a little tighter, hoping he meant it when he said he’d get me out of here.
“I see you have something that belongs to me there,” the man says, and it takes me a long moment to realize he’s talking about me. In his head,Ibelong to him.
“There’s nothing here for you, Spade. I suggest you get the fuck out of here before it gets ugly,” my dad spits, and his tone has me doing a double take. I’ve never heard him sound so…mean before.
Is this the same man who never let me go for sleepovers because he didn’t trust the other parents? The same one who never missed a ballet recital and came to every sports game? I can barely resonate the overprotective man I’ve spent the last decade being sick of, with the one standing on the other side of the wall of muscle in front of me.
“All debts come due eventually, Edward. You should know that.”
“You killed my sister,” he points out.
“You think your whore sister costs the same as the second in charge of a family like mine?” he challenges.
Doc stiffens against me but remains rooted in place, not allowing his anger to take away his attention from protecting me.
“I’m sure after working for the Saint James family for so many years, you understand the concept of an eye for an eye,” he says, completely ignoring my father as if he thinks he’ll have better luck reasoning with the tank of a man shielding me from him.
“Isla is under Saint James protection, so I don’t think they would agree in this particular instance.” The words fall from his lips so easily that I would believe them if I weren’t intimately familiar with the truth.
Why the hell would they give a shit about me? I’ve never even met them.
