Page 21 of Fight

“What do you think?” I replied on a huffed-out, humorless laugh.

“I think if you did, you wouldn’t be here—wouldn’t have been there,” he said.

“Genius insight,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

He frowned, his brows dropping down, and his nostrils flared as he stared down at me, his expression thunderous. I didn’t back down, though.

In fact, his anger took away the last of the tentativeness I’d felt, my uncertainty at what to do in the face of my unexpected desire for him. Because wanting him, wanting anyone, was something I didn’t really understand and didn’t know how to process.

But anger…I knew it, knew I could handle it.

Because somewhere along the way, I’d decided I was done being afraid, done being a victim. I’d always put up a good front, pretended to be tough, but too often, far too often, I’d let fear, fear for myself, fear for others, rule me, control me.

No more.

I wouldn’t ever play that role again no matter what it might cost me, even if it cost me his protection.

“You should watch your mouth. It’s what got you into all this trouble,” he said, moving closer to me, his body crowding me, his expression one of warning.

A warning I should have heeded, a warning I would have heeded if I had a brain. Instead of stepping back, though, I moved forward, close enough that my chest brushed his. I tried to ignore the tremor of pleasure that went through me at the first touch of his chest against mine. His presence was overwhelming, made stronger by his masculine scent, the heat from his body.

The tug of desire deep in the pit of my stomach rocketed to my core, shooting sparks through me that broke through the anger, making me senseless enough to get this close to him.

If I had good sense, I would have stepped back, done something to break this spell, but good sense and I had never been friends, so I stood where I was, ignoring the wetness between my thighs, the question of what made me want to antagonize him, and instead met his gaze.

“If my mouth is so bothersome, I can leave,” I said, inexplicably pushing an advantage I didn’t even have. I told myself it was research. He hadn’t drummed me out on my ass yet, so maybe there was a reason for that.

He scowled harder, and his jaw ticked as his face twisted into a deep sneer. “Could you stay out of trouble for more than five minutes?”

“Maybe not? But what do you care?” I responded, trying to match my expression to his, a feat that was near impossible given that all I could focus on was how good he smelled.

“Who said I cared?” He blinked after he spoke, and something about that took the sting out of the words.

“You’re lying,” I said, looking at him more closely.

And he was lying.

I could clearly see so in his eyes, which was odd given that his expression had always told me so little. But in this, it was clear. I wasn’t foolish enough to think his interest was directed at me personally. More than likely, I was of some value to him, though I couldn’t imagine how. Whatever his reasons, he didn’t want to see Markov rip me apart.

Ioan narrowed his eyes and I cursed my inability to keep my mouth closed. Ironic, given how we’d begun this conversation, and the little flash of amusement in his expression told me he noticed that as well.

But the amusement was short-lived, and a blink later, he was serious again. “Why do you think I’m lying?”

I waited a moment, considering. I had opened this door, not smart enough to let the subject lie and take this time to rest and plan. Did I want to continue? I glanced at Ioan again, saw how he watched me expectantly, and continued on. “You could have dropped me at a bus stop and been done with me, but you didn’t. You had that meeting last night, then brought me here. There’s a reason you did. What is that reason?” I said.

I couldn’t deny Ioan was nice, kind. It hadn’t yet been twenty-four hours since I’d met him, but I saw that clearly. Yet, there was more to this than kindness, and figuring out his angle was key to my well-being.

“You’d be dead by now or wishing that you were,” he said, scoffing.

An attempt to move me off this subject. He wanted to know what I thought, but he had no interest in telling me anything of value, and had used that reference to my fate to scare me. I wasn’t deterred. “That wasn’t an answer, Ioan,” I said.

He thinned his lips and huffed out a breath of frustration, glaring at me before he continued. “When I stepped in and stopped Ciprian, you became my responsibility. I always live up to my responsibilities.”

“Your responsibility? Says who?”

I was no one’s responsibility but my own.

“Who doesn’t matter. But you are. So I’m keeping an eye on you, and the best way to do that is to have you here, at least until the money we owe is repaid,” he said, sounding none too pleased about that fact.

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