Page 26 of Fierce Monarch

“I don’t need your protection,” she growled, kicking her head back. I narrowly avoided the skull to the nose and buried my face into her neck to protect it. Fine—and to smell her too. “What the fuck are you doing following me? Aren’t you connected at the hip to big brother?”

“No, and I’m not the one under fire everywhere she goes.”

“No, you’re just the one who lit the match.”

I sighed, hating the way the conversation was going already. “Where are Dominic and Moore?”

“Shopping,” she deadpanned.

I flipped her around, shoving her right back to where she was. I didn’t like trapping her, but what else could I do? She needed to hear me. She had to understand the dangers of running around like this. And I needed to see her eyes.

Those sad, broken, very angry eyes. My dick jerked in my pants at the thought of those eyes glaring at me while she was on her knees, and I gave it the metaphorical middle finger. She’s more likely to slice you off than she is to suck you.

“You got a problem with my face?”

“No.” She was beautiful, always. “You can’t do this right now, Mari. It’s not safe.”

“What do you care about my safety, Beckstrom? Your life would be so much easier without me.”

The words hurt to hear. A world without Mari wasn’t a world at all. I just hadn’t realized it soon enough.

Tell her that.

I wanted to. I wanted to talk about the phone call and everything that happened before, but when I looked at her, I saw no vulnerability, no recognition. I wasn’t sure if she remembered our call at all or if it had disappeared in the haze of booze.

“Mari—” The press of a gun to my sternum stole my breath, but not as much as the ice on her face did. Also, how had I forgotten to hold her fucking arms? Was I really that blind when it came to her?

If so, I wasn’t sure I’d be much help on the protection front.

“Why are you really following me?” she asked, peering around without ever taking her eyes off me. “Where’s your brother?”

“I don’t know. I came because I wanted to warn you.”

Her bark of laughter hurt my ears, it was so angry. “I don’t believe you.”

“People are talking. Your uncles?—”

“I’m aware.”

She wasn’t, not really. She didn’t know what I did about them. About everyone. “Let me help.”

She scoffed. “I’ve already made that mistake. I won’t be doing it again.”

“We weren’t a mistake,” I growled, tightening my fingers on her hips, as if a few bruises would prove my point.

“Yes, we were.”

I wanted to argue, but Mari was a remote tundra with nothing but miles between her and civilization. I missed the warmth she used to bring more than ever.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I whispered again, loosening my grip on her. What good had coming after her done, beyond showing anyone watching that Mari really was a priority for me?

Fuck, if Cash caught wind of this, it was going to be bad. Very, very bad.

Especially since I hadn’t helped her, hadn’t warned her of anything she didn’t already know, hadn’t fixed things. I’d just made everything worse.

“Fuck your intentions,” Mari spat, trying to weasel her way out of my grip. If she moved left, I countered it. If she dodged, ducked, and weaved, I mirrored her.

If she wanted out of my grasp, she’d need to pull the trigger.

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