Page 106 of Life To My Flight

Normally, though, I didn’t have my life threatened on a daily basis with bodily harm if I did testify.

I knew his intentions were good.

I knew he’d protect me. But still. I was a tad bit miffed.

Taking a sip of my wine, I stared at the television and tried (and note I said try) to ignore the beautiful man.

It was only my second…or third… cup.

I really needed to stop, because it probably wouldn’t help to get on the stand drunk, but if I didn’t, I’d start worrying about the what if’s.

What if whoever was threating me was serious?

What if something happened to Cleo while he was trying to protect me?

What if something happened to one of The Dixie Wardens?

“Rue?” Cleo asked sharply.

I snapped my head around until I was staring into his eyes. “What?”

My voice came out sounding a tad bit more shrewish than I’d intended, and his eyebrows rose up in surprise. “What’s your problem?”

I stared around his house.

His furniture.

His TV.

His afghan.

His fucking food.

What here was mine?

That’s right, nothing.

Because I didn’t live here.

This wasn’t my place.

This was only temporary.

I turned back to Cleo who was still waiting for my answer and did the one thing that I knew he’d hate. I continued ignoring him.

He waited patiently for a few more moments before he got his face down into my own. “What. Is. Your. Problem?”

I wanted to smack him, yet I refrained.

Was there a reason he kept me in the dark about everything?

Hell, I was still mad at him for leaving me and not speaking to me for a year.

“I’m not talking to you right now,” I was finally able to say.

He snorted. “Well let me know when you decide to stop being a bitch. I’ll be in bed.”

A twinge of guilt speared through me. He was probably worried just as much as me… but that was what he got for being the one to recommend me taking the stand in the first place.

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