Page 84 of Protector

“What?” I laughed, but the sound was hollow. “But you told me to come out here—you said—”

Jamie stubbed out the cigarette and bent over, resting his elbows on his knees before cupping the back of his head with his hands. “Fuck,” he growled. “Don’t wanna fuckin’ do this, princess.”

“Then don’t. I’ll go by myself,” I snapped before turning away. I hadn’t even taken a step when I felt him at my back. His body moved behind mine, wrapping me up in a bear hug and sending flames shooting down my arms.

“Let me go,” I fought to keep my voice steady.

It wasn’t often, but there were times when he caught my shoulder or pulled me into his arms, and I was struck with the realization that he was a giant. If he ever decided to use his strength against me, I’d be powerless to stop him.

He spun me around to face him before letting his hands fall away. “Ain’t lettin’ you leave. You came all this way; let’s play a game together.”

“You wanted me to come out here so we could play board games?”

His bottom lip went between his teeth again, as if he was considering his options. “Not board games. Blackjack. Your skills are rusty; only way to get better is to practice, yeah?”

“Are we playing for money? If so, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

Jamie scratched at his jaw. “Tell you what. Let’s play for braggin’ rights. Nothin’ else. Main goal is gettin’ you ready to play the tables again, okay?”

I was certain I resembled Kate as I halfheartedly shrugged before mumbling a bored, “I guess.”

A blackjack card table sat in the middle of the living room with two chairs on either side, and I looked up at him with a glare. “It looks like maybe you were planning this, Jamie.”

“What can I say, darlin’? I wanna help you. Sit.”

He took the dealer’s seat and pushed a stack of chips over to me. “Each one’s worth a grand.”

I pushed two into the betting circle, and Jamie began shuffling the deck. I wasn’t sure what he thought we were going to accomplish. We were in a controlled environment where I could stay one hundred percent focused.

He placed an ace and a two in front of me.

“Soft thirteen. And the dealer shows a four.” He reached inside his leather vest and pulled out a cigar, popping it into his mouth to wet the head before holding it up in front of me.

“Now…” he flicked his lighter. “Most people don’t know this, but you can’t smoke one of these babies like a cigarette. You gotta ignite the end like this…”

I ran a hand through my hair and scratched at my throat as he slowly rotated the cigar over the flame. He took several puffs before pulling it back out for inspection.

“Sometimes, it don’t light correctly, and you gotta do it again. Don’t want it burnin’ unevenly.”

I grimaced as the smoke reached my nostrils, and my eyes began to sting. “Jamie,” my voice was barely above a whisper.

“Soft thirteen, darlin’. Hit or stay?” He took another puff before exhaling the smoke rings toward my face.

Paralysis took the wheel, keeping me glued to my seat even as the first tear fell. My breaths became agonizing wheezes as I saw Cobra, sitting in the corner of my bedroom, watching and waiting for me in the dark.

You don’t mind if I smoke inside, do you?

I jerked, pushing the chair back across the hardwood as I fought to get to my feet. Jamie calmly reached across the table and placed his hand over mine. “Look at me.”

I reluctantly forced my eyes up to meet his, feeling like I was looking at a stranger. He’d been at that first game; had seen firsthand what the scent had done to me. “W-why?”

“Who’s in control?” He gently reminded me.

“You,” I said flatly, fighting against the emotion that was clogging my throat and obscuring my vision.

He tapped the deck of cards with his free hand and shook his head. “I ain’t the one callin’ the shots. You are. Now, focus. You gonna hit or stay?”

“I hate you,” I choked, back to being the broken woman lying on a bathroom floor, praying for help.

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