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It’s a sign of how much I love the woman sleeping in my guest room that I open the fucking door. “What do you want?” I ask.
He puffs up like pigskin dropped in hot oil. It’s funny, really. I half expect him to launch at my face, fingernails extended and voice screeching like some kind of shit-throwing monkey.
“Where’s Alix?”
“She’s sleeping.” I don’t make any move to let him into the house.
“I need to see her.”
“Tough shit. Leave her a message, and she’ll go down to the cottage tomorrow.”
“I left her a message.”Asshole. I see him start to say it. I watch him reconsider. Maybe heisn’tas dumb as he looks. “She didn’t answer.”
“Then leave her another one.”
“I’ve left her ten. I’ve been trying to reach her all week.”
“Then here’s an idea, Einstein. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
He shifts his weight from foot to foot. Rubs his palms against his thighs. Cranes his neck and looks past me into the hall, like maybe Alix is standing right behind me.
This is the rat-fuck who sold Alix to Herzog. Every bone in my body is screaming at me to knock him to the ground. Take a swing at his goddamn face. Maybe break that nose a second time.
But for Alix’s sake, I fold my fingers into fists. She wants him at the freeport. I have to live with that. But I sure as hell don’t have to invite the dickwad in for tea and cookies.
I think about telling him I’m going upstairs to fuck his sister. Let him know who’s boss around here. But that turns Alix into the punchline of a bad joke. And the only thing she’s done wrong is have the bad luck to share a birthday with this clown.
“Anything else?” I ask. “Because I have to get back to work.”
“Yeah,” he says, before I can slam the door in his face. “Thereissomething else. Alix took something that belongs to me. I need it back. Now.”
“Alixtook something fromyou?” The scrawny bastard literally didn’t have a stitch of clothing when I paid for his suite at the hospital. Everything he owns—from the clothes on his back to the phone shoved in the pocket of his jeans—was a gift from his sister. Which means it was a gift from me.
“Look,” he says. “Just let me get it, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I’ve got another idea, motherfucker. Get off my doorstep, and myhairwill be just fine.”
I never expected the shitbird would lower a shoulder and try to tackle me in my own house. His technique sucks, and I outweigh him almost two to one, but I’m surprised enough to take a step back.
“Alix!” he fucking hollers. “Hey! Alix!”
It would be easy enough to knock him flat on his ass. I might take out a tooth or two with a solid punch to his jaw. I could easily kick him senseless, even though I’m only wearing running shoes.
But he’s Alix’s goddamn brother. And even if she’s ignoring his texts, she’ll probably be pissed if I put him back in the hospital.
“Alix!” he shouts one more time before I get him in a headlock.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, even as the Beast explodes inside my brain. It takes all my willpower not to tap out a five-count with his head against the tile floor. “I said your sister was sleeping. Now get your ass back to the cottage, and when she wakes up, I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
He’s stupid enough to keep fighting. He kicks at the door, slamming it closed. His fingers scratch at my forearm, but he can’t get a purchase. I tighten my grip, realizing I’ll have to choke out this motherfucker to get him to back down.
“Trap!”
Alix’s voice cuts through the Beast howling in my brain. She’s standing at the foot of the stairs, blinking in the overhead light like she just climbed out of a cave. Her pupils are the size of fifty-pound free-weight plates.
“Trap,” she says again, and this time it sounds like her voice is coming from very far away. It’s almost like she’s singing, like she’s chanting something written in a book. “Let him go,” she says.
I give her brother an extra shake, sending him half-way to the wall as I set him free. He’s still staggering for balance when I say, “He started it.”
