Page 62 of Fire for Effect

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Asshole!”

Her voice, the sheer anger of it ripped through me.

“Firefly, you need to stop–”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

I shut my mouth. I wasn’t helping.

“I don’t even know why you’re here!” She grabbed the hair at her temples and tugged on them, pulling the skin from her skull, making me wince with my need to stop her. Then she asked, more quietly, “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to protect you.” The truth slipped out before I could keep it in my mouth.

I was here because some assholes threatened her. I was here because my job put her in danger.

“Protect me from what?” her scoff was one of complete disbelief. “From Veder?”

She gestured to the guy who was hanging back by the fridge, iced tea in his hand, quietly sipping away.

I had forgotten he was even there.

“Protect me from who? I mean, Jesus, I thought I was the one rounding up bad guys on bail, but nope. I guess I needed a big strong man like Griff to come to my rescue. Is that right?” Her eyes went from pained to defiant in an instant. “Useless fucking female needs the big man to save her form her own stupidity.”

She was so full of fire, my skin heated under her scrutiny. I liked the burn of it because it meant she was here. Not through a phone, but in my space. We were breathing the same air.

“We’re going to circle back on that bail bondsman thing, but you know what? I am here to protect you.”

“From what?”

“I… can’t tell you!” I had never been more frustrated in my life about having to handle classified information. But the fucking CIA said keep my mouth shut, so I had to, but God damnit…

“Or what? You’d have to kill me?”

She knew that was a low blow.

I stood, stunned. Of all the women in all the world, she was the one who I thought would understand that aspect of my job.

“That’s not fair, Guerro,” I turned my head to the unexpected sound of Veder defending me. What the fuck? “Griff’s not some civilian playing James Bond. If he says he can’t tell you, he probably can’t.”

That deflated her far more than my attempts to calm her down.

She looked at Veder, then at the ground. Then at the wall, the ceiling. Everywhere but me.

“I’m not his to protect,” she finally said to VD.

She put her hand at the nape of her neck, and walked away, out the barn doors, shutting it behind her. I stood, stunned, unsure where the fuck I had gone wrong. How badly I had fucked this all up.

I heard the sound of her Ducati firing up, and almost stumbled to follow her when a big hand landed on my shoulder.

“Give her space,” Veder said, quietly. “She’ll come back.”

She sped away, and I didn’t know where, my heart sinking to my feet as I felt the urge to move. I had to get to her. I needed to be near her. I had to protect her.

I pulled my shoulder from his grasp, and bared my teeth, like we were animals circling in the fucking wild.

“This isn’t over,” I warned.

“I’m sure it isn’t,” he said, as he went below the loft, and started stacking up bits of wood and placing it on his shoulder. “You can’t cure her cold feet by smothering her.”

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