Page 32 of Never Fear (Whiskey Ridge)
He must’ve seen something in my eyes because he suddenly stopped walking. His brows furrowed, and he took a hesitant step towards me. “Are you upset with me?”
I scoffed and slapped my hands against my thighs. “Am I upset with you? Yes, I’m fucking upset with you!” I held a hand out to the diner for emphasis. “You just killed my boss for touching my ass!”
“And I’d do it again,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Of course you would, because you’re fuckingcrazy.” I blinked back the tears that had begun to burn my eyes. I wouldn’t cry—couldn’t cry—in front of Austin. He’d think of me as weak.
He moved closer, and I hated the proximity. If he looked hard enough, he’d find me crumbling.
“If ending the man who thought he could get away with objectifying women makes me crazy, then consider me fucking insane.” He leaned into my space, enunciating each word he said next. “I would do anything to make sure you felt safe. To make sure no one puts their hands on you without your permission.”
My lips pressed together tightly because anger was a lot easier to feel than whatever emotions he was trying to pull from me. “You think killing someone in front of me makes me feelsafe?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t solve my problem.”
“It solves one of them.”
It took all the control I had not to scream to the skiesand beg for a moment of peace away from this insufferable man.
“What’s your plan with the next one, then? Kill the man sending death threats my way, too?” I asked.
His facial expression was of cool indifference, as if we weren’t talking about murder. “That’s exactly the plan.”
“You can’t just go around killing everyone, Austin!”
That made him snap. “And you can’t go around acting like none of this affects you! If I have to end the people who make you feel like you’re in danger, I will.”
I nearly scoffed. “Don’t act like you really care that much.”
He cupped my cheeks, his nose inches from mine as he stared into my eyes. “McKenna, I’ve cared since the moment Booker and I sat in your diner to watch Brynne. I didn’t flirt with you all those weeks for my fucking health. Ilikeyou.”
I turned my head to the side, but he turned it right back. “Look at me and tell me you’ll let me help you. With more than a sleazy boss.” His thumb brushed my cheek, and I couldn’t tell if a tear had fallen. What the fuck was I doing, crying in a goddamn parking lot to a man who wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone?
I didn’t respond, so he pressed on. “I don’t want you feeling like your life is in someone else’s hands.”
His words sent cannons careening toward my carefully crafted walls, and I had no defense against them.
Swallowing the urge to say yes, to let him take care of me so easily, I instead said, “Take me home.”
And without a word, he led me to the passenger side ofmy car, laid his jacket on the seat so no blood would get on it, then buckled me in and drove us to my house.
Dangerous? Maybe. But Austin seemed to be good at getting me to give in to my cravings.
Right now, that just so happened to be him.
Austin followed me inside after parking my car in the driveway. I didn’t bother fighting him on it—he’d simply stand outside my door like some lost puppy if I didn’t let him in. Then, inevitably, he’d find a way inside. It wouldn’t be the first time.
He breezed past me once the front door was closed, inspecting the house like there might be someone waiting to strike. If there was, I think I’d let them take me away. I was too tired to fight for my life tonight.
Maybe it was a good thing Austin was around. Or maybe that was my exhaustion talking.
Definitely the latter.
“I’m taking a shower,” I announced as I followed him down the hall where he was peeking inside every room. My house wasn’t large by any means, but there was a linen closet, a guest room, a guest bathroom, and my room. So, really, there was a good assortment of hiding places for the boogeyman if he really wanted to put that much effort into it.
As soon as I said the words, he veered into my room, glancing underneath the bed on his way to the attached bathroom. I walked in after him, finding him taking up post with his hip against the counter, arms crossed.I surveyed the small room, already knowing there was no place for someone to hide in here. The doors to the shower were glass, and no one could fit underneath the sink or in a drawer, so obviously, it was empty.
