Page 50 of Brutal Savage

Ominous.

Downright wrong at the very core of it. Yet I can’t stop it, no matter what I do.

He does the same to his other sleeve, dragging it up, that arm empty of tattoos, and I can’t decide which one I like better.

He’s all man—tall, rough, large hands, wide shoulders. He towers over me, yet I don’t feel small in his presence anymore.

“Sit down.”

He pulls the chair for me and lifts me onto it by my hips, and my skin tingles where he touched me.

He moves to my side and picks up the alcohol, holding my wrist above the sink. “This is gonna hurt.”

I nod, and he’s pouring the alcohol over the wound.

“Shit.” I crush my teeth and shut my eyes as the most intense stinging hits my skin.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I manage to look back at him, his expression tense as he glares down at my wound.

“This will never happen again.”

“Okay.” I laugh to myself.

He has no idea who I am and that this definitely won’t be the last time.

If that was in fact Jerry after me, I’ll have to leave, and soon. But at the thought, an ache beats in my heart.

For the first time, I don’t want to go. I’ll miss teaching. I’ll miss Brody. I may even miss him.

That’s ridiculous, I know it is, yet somehow it’s also true.

He starts to bandage up my arm, glancing at me periodically, sending my heart spinning.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry this happened, Elara.” My God, he sounds so sweet and sincere.

My eyes water.

“All done.” He lowers his sleeves back down, and I really wish he wouldn’t. “From now on, you’ll have one of my men watching you at all times. His name is Rogue. He’ll have an SUV just like mine. I’ll text you the plates so you know it’s him when you’re followed.”

Oh, no. As much as I need the protection, I can’t afford Tynan finding out about my past.

“That’s crazy! You can’t do that.”

“Watch me.” Intensity brews in his gaze.

“You’re infuriating! You think you can just waltz into my life and control everything?”

“That’s right. And you won’t do a thing about it.”

I snicker.

“Someone is clearly after you and you won’t tell me who you think it is, so it leaves me no options.”

Something pulls at my heart, and I want to cry all over again. “Why do you even care what happens to me? You’re not my boyfriend or my husband. We’re not even friends.”

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