Page 29 of Hooked On Victor
“What do they want?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Me dead,” he said coldly. “Or silent. Preferably both.”
He turned from her, stalking to the window. His movements were too precise, too deliberate. He twitched the curtain aside, eyes scanning the tree line like he expected to see muzzle flashes.
For the first time since she’d met him, she saw fear on his face.
Not for himself.
For her.
She felt it like a punch to the ribs.
She swallowed hard.
“I can go,” she said, voice quiet. Cracking. “If it’s safer for you—”
He turned so fast she flinched.
“No.”
The word snapped like a whip.
Then he caught himself.
His eyes closed.
He exhaled, voice dropping.
“No,” he said again, softer this time.
“If they think you mean something to me, they’ll use it. I’d rather have you where I can protect you.”
Her throat closed.
She stared at him.
“You do mean something to me, Rose.”
He didn’t say it like a confession.
No grand flourish.
Just truth, delivered with the weight of a man who didn’t know how to make it pretty.
Her vision blurred for a second.
She didn’t run.
She crossed the floor instead, boots thumping heavily on the old boards.
She stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the heat coming off his skin, the tension rolling through him in sick waves.
“Then let me help,” she said.
Her voice didn’t shake this time.
