Page 9 of Boundaries

He watched my pathetic attempt to free myself with an amused expression before he grabbed my other arm and dragged me up onto my tiptoes, his head bowed, getting in my face. Our noses were almost touching as he held me there by my upper arms and I felt a jet of something rush through me; almost like excitement. What the fuck?

“I dare a great deal and you’d do well to remember that, Amy. I’m bigger, stronger, and much meaner than you. I am a fucking beast and if you provoke me, I roar,” he growled before shoving me backwards, releasing my arms.

I stumbled and almost fell over but managed to catch my balance. My hair was plastered over my face and I flicked it back, I needed him to clearly see the deadeye I was about to deliver. That fucker would cut him right down to the bone! I was breathing heavily, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart and that unexpected feeling. It was like my body had decided it liked this man’s hands on me. I would certainly be having words with it when I got back home.

As I recovered myself, Mason watched me with a hooded gaze. I decided to change tack, shaking that look of scorn away as I rubbed my arms where he’d held me with a pained expression. I knew it was the oldest trick in the book and thoroughly pathetic, but so fricking what. You had to work with what you’d got.

I purposefully checked my arms for bruises. Playing the victim card to the fullest.

Mason shook his head slowly with a smirk and turned back to the truck.

“I didn’t hurt you, so you can stop with the female dramatics,” he volleyed back over his shoulder.

“You did actually and I bruise really easily,” I mewed, over egging it.

He shrugged his massive shoulders in a ‘who gives a fuck’ motion and then twisted his head sideways, his expression almost carnal, a sensual attack as he growled. “I’ll remember that. We wouldn’t want to leave a mark on that creamy white skin.” Goosebumps appeared. Did I imagine that sexual energy or was I going bonkers?

I decided to try another line of attack. If I brought up the nightmare of the past, maybe it would remind him that we didn’t want to go there again. Said nightmare was of course his brother and my sister’s toxic relationship.

I kicked a stone with my foot, feeling thoroughly ignored.

“I heard your shithead of a brother is due back. Did they kick him out for being a crap soldier?”

“It hasn’t got anything to do with you, you little bitch,” Mason snarled giving me his attention again. He was very protective of all his brothers.

“It has if he tries to see Jenna.”

“Here we go again, Jenna, Jenna, fucking Jenna. You and your parents seem to think the world revolves around the girl, it doesn’t,” Mason sighed. Now apparently tired of the conversation.

“So, you’re saying he won’t try and see her?”

Mason dashed a hand across his jaw before arrogantly stating. “So, what if he does? A man has rights where his wife is concerned and it would be unwise of you to try and get in the way of that. You don’t want to be on Nixon’s shit list, believe me. It’s longer than mine.”

“I imagine I’m already on there at the very top.”

“I mean it Amy; you don’t want to see what he looks like when he really loses it.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him lose it. I was there during the whole fist-through-the-wall incident, remember?” I pointed out.

Mason’s shoulders slumped. “Can’t you just piss off already? I’m working in case you haven’t noticed,” he replied as he motioned towards the car.

“I really wouldn’t bother with that rusty piece of crap. Why don’t you just buy another one rich boy?” I suggested with a syrupy smile. The McKenna family were landowners and were minted. Not as much as my family though.

He dashed a hand through his thick hair. All the McKenna boys were hairy and hardly ever clean-shaven. Masculine and rugged with an off-the-chart ‘stay the fuck out of my way’ vibe. They walked into a room as if they expected a round of applause.

Pinning me with a dark look he drawled, “We don’t waste money, Amy. Not like the Taylor-Joys of this world, who probably buy new silverware when they run out of clean ones. Ever heard of a dishwasher?”

“Yes, why? Are you after a job?”

He scowled, “Fuck off Amy before I do something your daddy should have done to you years ago,” he menaced, taking a predatory step my way. From his dark expression, I knew he meant it, he had threatened me that way before, but I’d been a child then. The sudden image of being dragged across his strong thighs shot into my head and gave me goosebumps. I went all hot and cold at the same time. What the fuck was going on with my physical response to this man? Maybe I was dehydrated and losing my mind.

Mason cracked his knuckles and took another menacing step forward. Being a Taylor-Joy, I was all about self-preservation and I seized that as my prompt to leave.

“This isn’t over,” I stated flatly. Disappointment that I’d failed in my task festered inside me.

Mason’s hands were fisted by his sides as he stared back at me with a guarded look, “It never even started.” He said the words almost to himself, but I heard them clearly.

What the fuck did that mean?

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