Page 211 of Overcast

“Hell fucking no,” Reagan counters back. “She stays with me.” And just like that, his burly men move, picking up the whole chair with her in it and begin carrying her off, screaming at them and Eli to put her down, to leave me alone.

Like her brother—always wanting to protect me.

Except she doesn’t want to leave me.

“I am so sorry.” Eli reaches for one of Huck’s small plastic chairs from a table along the wall and sits in front of me. His knees almost hit his chest as he studies my face. “This sucks for you, I know. It won’t last long, I promise.”

“What do you want?” I mutter. “I don’t know information or—”

“It’s not that,” he retorts, bowing his chin as though his next words are going to be hard. He folds his hands together and continues. “Wade sent my father to prison where he was murdered about two and a half weeks ago. He did shady shit all the time but still had the nerve to send my father, a mayor with health issues, to jail. It broke my family apart.”

I don’t respond, not knowing what to say but not feeling sorry. If he was capable of attempting to assault Reagan, I’m believing that the apple isn’t going to fall far from the tree.

“When this is over,” Eli says, trailing his focus back to me. “I can help you.”

My body veers back from his so-called help. Apparently I’m not set up in life to have any sort of peace. And I’ve fallen into the hands of another man who takes advantage of women.

I’m not sure why he’s prettier than me.

There should be a Black Friday line of females waiting for him to glance their way if you like that sort of dude.

But maybe he’s the type that likes the struggle. The pursuit of the chase.

And that sort of man is what scares me the most.

Eli’s hand reaches out to touch my face, but I pull away, a wave of goosebumps prickling at my body.

I can’t pretend that it’s okay.

That I’m not leery of him if he tried to attack Reagan with her strong and brave persona.

I’m zero of those things, making me perfect to fall into his clutches.

“Reagan blew everything out of proportion,” he claims, pulling his palm back. “She threw me a birthday party, our eyes caught a few times, I thought she was into me. But when she kneed me in the balls, it was safe to say I was wrong. I drank too much, apparently.”

“I...just want to go home.”

He nods. “Of course, I understand.”

Like now.

“What are you...going to do?”

“I can’t tell you that because—” He shrugs. “—I honestly don’t know.”

I knit my brows. “What? How could you not know?”

His hand splays on my knee before his fingertips press into the sides. “It’s going to depend on Marty. This is his mess, he has to clean it up.”

“And I’m going to do that with your fucking face,” Marty’s octave bellows, rattling the air like a hurricane. “Get the fuck away from her.”

Peering over Eli’s shoulder, Marty’s steps are determined, filled with fury, and he mirrors something that’s about to rip Eli’s head off.

He hasn’t looked at me yet, searing into Eli’s skull instead.

Me, on the other hand, I take him all in.

Faded gray jeans and a white tee, Marty’s muscles alone allude peril. They issue out commands and warnings to listen, even with the two outfitted men standing behind him in the distance, Marty doesn’t care.

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