Page 83 of Smolder

I tucked her hair behind her ear, wishing we were alone. I could make her forget all of this if we were.

“That’s Wilder. And Thatcher isn’t going to hurt me. I know comes off as demented, but he’s my brother.”

A frown puckered her brow, and she turned to look at Wilder. “That is Wilder?” she asked, a touch of disbelief in her tone.

I had forgotten for a moment that I’d told her about him. The night she’d seen my tattoo. She had been jealous.

Wilder looked from her to me questioningly.

“I don’t get it,” she said, then shook her head and turned back to look up at me.

I wanted to laugh out loud, but I didn’t. Now was not the time. But, damn, the urge to toss her over my shoulder and go upstairs with her was strong. To hell with these two. I’d close the damn bathroom door and fuck her in there. Until she was screaming my name.

“Since no one else is gonna ask, what the fuck is it she doesn’t get?” Thatcher drawled.

I lifted my eyes to look at him, then shifted them to Wilder, unable not to grin. Hell, I wasn’t grinning; I was smirking.

“Oakley’s choice in men.”

Wilder’s eyes narrowed, and Thatcher let out a bark of laughter so unlike him that it startled me. My lips stretched wider into a smile as I turned to see my brother actually amused.

“I think he found his Juliet. No fucking wonder he was breaking bones and acting like we were related.”

The humor of the moment was sucked out of the room as I shook my head at him. He needed to stop. Now. She couldn’t know about that.

His dark eyes still glinted with amusement, but he seemed to understand my silent warning.

“Then, she is worth it to you? Because when we leave here, we have to take you directly to Ocala,” Wilder told me.

He didn’t elaborate, and I was thankful for that. Royal didn’t know what that meant. She had no idea who Blaise Hughes was or the power he held.

I nodded my head. “But she stays with me.”

Wilder shook his head. “You can’t take her there.”

“I’m not leaving her!” I growled, already moving her behind me.

Thatcher let out a low whistle. “All right, little brother. You’ve gone and gotten territorial. We got it. But she can’t go there. You know that. You’re already in deep enough shit. What about if we take her to Maeme? No one will get near her there. Not even dear old Dad.”

The idea of leaving her, not being there to protect her, made me want to tear down the fucking walls around us. My eyes shifted from the two of them. Royal wrapped herself around my arm, reminding me that she was watching me. If I acted like a crazed maniac, it would scare her.

“He’s right. You know he is. Let Thatcher take her to Maeme, and I’ll go with you to Ocala.”

“I’m going to Ocala,” Thatcher told him.

Wilder looked at my brother. “That’s not a good idea.”

Thatcher took the cigarette from his mouth as his eyes shifted into that lethal gleam that never ended well. “If Sebastian has to go to Ocala, I’m going with him.”

Wilder cut his eyes to me, and I saw the uncertainty there. We both knew Thatcher held very little regard for life. He was too detached to react to things normally.

“Thatch, he’s got to answer for taking her and running. He broke orders.”

Thatcher tilted his head to the side as the room chilled from more than the open door and cold night.

“If the boss wants to see him then he gets a visited from me too.” His words were spoken slowly, laced with a threat that no one wanted to push with Thatcher.

I could see Wilder back down as he turned to me.

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