Page 40 of Wilde and Deadly

“Why do you even care?”

ten

Why did he care?

Shedidn’tjust ask him that.

Was she really that naive? Or was she just refusing to see it?

Christ. He was so fucked.

He could’ve answered a thousand different ways.

That she’d crashed into his life years ago and never really left.

That she was the only woman who could drive him insane and still make him want to drag her closer.

That no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop watching her, wanting her, worrying about her.

Instead, he braced his hand against the wall beside her head, crowding her, forcing her to see what she refused to acknowledge. He watched her breath catch and her eyes widen. Her lips parted slightly, and he fought the urge to close the distance, to claim her mouth with his.

“You haunt me, Ro.” His voice came out rougher than he intended. Raw. “Every time I close my eyes, you’re there. Every time I let my guard down, you slip through the cracks. And I fucking let you.”

He hadn’t wanted to. Had tried not to.

But he’d been sitting beside her bed, watching her fight something he couldn’t see, couldn’t stop. He’d listened to her whimper for help in her sleep, and it had wrecked him.

“For two days, I’ve been watching you fight an enemy I couldn’t help you with. And now you want to go back out there alone? I can’t just stand by and watch you throw yourself back into danger.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

There. Right there. That hesitation told him she felt it, too—the tension crackling between them like a live wire.

“Davey,” she whispered. “You don’t understand. I’m not running from danger. Iamthe danger.”

His stomach twisted. Not with fear, this time, but with rage. She wanted him to believe that? That she was some untouchable force, like she wasn’t standing right here in fornt of him, barely stitched together, barely fucking breathing?

He shook his head. “Bullshit. You’re running scared, Ro. I’ve seen you in action. You don’t scare easy.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You think you know me? You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Then enlighten me,” he challenged, his face inches from hers.

She shoved against his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“Who is after you?”

She remained stubbornly silent.

“Who did you piss off?”

Still, nothing.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

He felt the sharp press of steel against the front of his sweatpants and looked down.

A fucking paring knife.

---