Page 27 of Fury

When Archie turned the corner toward Dad’s office, Hollyn cast a glance back at Davis and found his primal gaze fixed on her. She bit her lip before stepping into the study.

If she weren’t careful, these two would eventually engage in a battle she wouldn’t be able to stop.

* * *

Irritation heated his neck as Davis flicked on the faucet to wash his hands.

Freaking twerp.

Gazing into the sink, he watched the blood mix with water and funnel down the drain. An unbidden flashback from that night shot to mind. Smoke in the air. In his lungs. Truck on fire. Loud shouts. Luke’s body.

He gripped the edge of the countertop. Fought back the images.

He hadn’t wanted to fix up Hollyn’s hand. Didn’t need anything else going wrong on his watch. But the way she’d begged him not to take her to the hospital . . . maybe heshouldhave taken her. Wouldn’t have had to deal with the twerp if he had. But there wasn’t much he’d deny Hollyn.

From the office, the sound of muffled voices and the clacking of keyboards broke into his thoughts. He yanked some paper towels free. Dried his hands before finding the broom to sweep up the last of the glass. Sanitized the floor of the blood. Worked on getting the dark stains out of the apron.

Fury watched the office door like he didn’t like the guy either.

Twerp was toeing the line of what Davis would deal with. And what was with him assuming Davis had hurt Hollyn?

That ticked him off more than anything. He’d never laid a hand on a woman. Ever. The punk calling his integrity into question had him seeing red.

Since he couldn’t throw the guy out on his backside like he wanted to, Davis headed up to his guest room to get rid of his post-workout funk with a shower and clean clothes. Decided to go over the security footage Hollyn had sent him earlier. See what he could find.

When he stepped from the bathroom, Fury was sprawled out on the bed. His tail thumped down on the blankets. “Hey. You failed me down there. What good are those razor-sharp canines if you aren’t going to eat his throat or at least take a chunk out of his smug butt?” Davis asked the lug. “Show him one of your trademark snarls?”

Fury sneezed.

“Whatever.” He laughed, grabbing his laptop.

On the bed, he pulled up the recording. It wasn’t easy seeing Hollyn attacked on camera, but on the fourth time, he realized something so glaringly obvious that he should’ve picked up on it on the first pass. Blame his preoccupation with the petite woman who still seemed to have a vise grip on his brain.

The burglar negotiated the house as if he’d been inside a hundred times. Seemed to know where every piece of furniture was and moved around it with ease even in the dark. Didn’t bump into a single thing or trip on a rug.

Could’ve had the blueprints of the house memorized. But that wouldn’t account for where furniture was. Davis still had a bruise where his leg had nailed the corner of that entry table.

In the office, the guy didn’t mess around with the closest drawers. He went straight for the drawer farthest from the door.

Why?

Insider knowledge? Or . . . insider?

Davis closed the laptop and motioned to Fury with it. “Come on.”

They walked down the hall to the study, and he opened the door. Didn’t really care if he was interrupting the twerp. Hoped hewas.

Behind the thick-rimmed BCGs on the bridge of his nose, Twerp balked. Was practically steaming.

Mission success.

“Hey, Davis.” Hollyn greeted him with a small smile. Her elbow was propped up on the desk, bandaged hand in the air. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk?”

He had Twerp’s full attention now.

“Alone.” He dared Twerp to intervene.

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