Page 15 of The Heart of Midnight

He snatches the phone before I can press send, making me pout. “I was just trying to make him smile.”

“Since when do you care about the smile of a man you’ve never met?” Scar mutters. “Do you want me to fly you out there and set you two up on a date? Make him smile yourself.”

Narrowing my eyes, I catch the hint of jealousy in his tone and take his phone again, only this time I lock it and slip it back into his jeans. “Tex Mex couldn’t handle me.”

“I don’t get you,” he pushes. “Why do you care so much about strangers? Killers, people you’ve never met.”

“Is Tex a killer or something?” I tease again, but I can see that was actually a serious question. It has me stopping where I stand to consider a real answer for him. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t care in the same way you care about people you love. I just... care. I struggle when I imagine a person with no one to care about them. Maybe if they had someone, they wouldn’t... I don’t know, Scar. I can’t explain it, but everyone needs someone. Even if it’s just one person. It’s human nature.”

“Human nature,” he repeats.

“To need someone,” I clarify. “You don’t agree?”

Scar shakes his head slowly. “No, I don’t. I think by nature, humans are selfish and close-minded. They look out for themselves and only form bonds that benefit them in some way.”

I hate how true it is. I hate how ugly the world and most of its inhabitants are, but I refuse to be one of them. “Yeah well... even the devil couldn’t stand being alone after his fall.”

“The devil isn’t real, Avery,” he says, exasperated as he steps forward and backs me up toward my desk. “But demons are, and one day, you’re going to fall right into one of their traps. I won’t always be here to protect you.”

“And why not?” I snap, tired of feeling like he’s always five seconds away from disappearing. “Where the hell do you plan on going?”

“Nowhere, but I can’t follow you twenty-four seven. You’re reckless and too fucking empathetic for your own good,” he argues, towering over me and caging me against my own desk. “What happens if Muerte comes after you again, huh? Are you gonna try tolovehim out of killing you?”

It feels like he’s mocking me for having a damn heart, and maybe I fucking would. Maybe I would try to reason with him and let him know he doesn’t have to force someone to be withhim if he’d just open himself up and let love in. But I’m not about to admit that. I’m not about to back down either, I don’t care if I barely reach his chest in height. “Don’t be a dick, Scarcello. I’ll do whatever I have to do to survive, even if that means ignoring someone’s ugliest sins. Fucking sue me.”

“I don’t want to sue you, I want you to fucking take care of yourself. If something ever happens to you, I—” he exhales hard, clenching his jaw and smacking the wall just above my shoulder — “Just...”

“What?” I whisper, needing his constipated ass to say it — to say something. I grip his shirt in my fist before he can move away, needing to stay in his scent a little longer as I watch him war with himself right in front of me. “I promise I’ll take care of myself.”

His endless brown eyes seem to bore a hole right through me. “There are people in this world who would hurt you just to watch you bleed.”

“I know,” I breathe, my grip tightening. “But I won’t let them, even if you’re not around. I can learn to fight.”

“You think so?” he asks, voice so quiet it’s barely coming out. “You think you could defend yourself against someone my size when their only goal is to break you in half?”

Shrugging, I go on my toes to seem bigger, but when I do, our bodies mesh together in exactly the way I’ve been craving. “I don’t know.”

Scar lifts me clear off my feet and flings me over his shoulder, carrying me through my office and down the hall even as I kick and scratch him to let me go. His grip on me is so tight it hurts, and when he throws me down onto my bed and clamps a hand over my mouth, I feel my entire body come alive. It’s so familiar I practically have to fight a moan to keep that part of me hidden, but he’d have to be blind in order to miss the way my legs naturally spread for him. “What are you doing?”

I’m breathless for a multitude of reasons as he rakes his gaze down my body.

“Showing you how hard it would be to stop someone like me,” he growls. “You can train to fight all you want, but when push comes to shove... you won’t last a minute if you’re not every bit as willing to kill as your attacker is. Now try to get up.”

Biting my lip, I try to scramble up before he can catch me, but I don’t make it an inch off the mattress before he’s leaning his body weight on me to pin me down.

“Try harder. Fight like I’m about to end your life.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I mumble, pushing back at him while knowing I’m not strong enough to make him move unless I kick him in the balls. It’d be a shame to hurt those.

“And there’s your problem.” He pulls back suddenly, helping me to my feet. “You’re so empathic you’d die before you hurt someone else, even if they were trying to hurt you.”

“That’s not true,” I argue, walking closer to him with every step he takes back. “I’d kick them in the balls and claw out their eyeballs if I had to. I’ve been in a fight before, and I didn’t hold back. I specifically don’t want to hurt you, dummy.”

You orhim. I leave that part unsaid.

“And what if Muerte is someone you know?” he pushes. “Someone else you don’t want to hurt?”

I can’t fight the frown that overtakes my face. “I told you, there’s only two of you and I doubt he’s Janet. Doesn’t make sense for it to be you either, so I’m sure I’ll be fine. What happened, Scar?” I raise my hand to cup his face. “What has you so on edge today?”

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