Page 45 of Into the Woods

“Bec—”

She held up a hand, lifting her chin. “I’m serious, Court. Is there something about me that just says feel free to screw with me?”

“Of course not,” I told her, rage flaring in my system, igniting nerve endings. God, Becca was smart and kind and perfect. If I hadn’t already planned on killing Eric before, the fact that she was in tears over his lies would’ve sealed his fate.

Fucker was a dead man walking.

“Then why am I constantly the idiot who trusts the wrong people?” Her hands balled into tiny fists at her sides.

“Trusting one asshole doesn’t make you an idiot, sweetheart,” I assured her. In fact, looking at her now, with her hair twisted into a complicated knot, her eyes glittering with fury, and the sexy as hell navy blue dress that hugged all her curves, she looked like a goddamn wet dream. Not to mention those silver heels that made her legs look impossibly long.

An image stole through my mind… her legs wrapped around my waist, those heels digging into my ass, as I fucked her into oblivion.

And just like that, my semi became a full-blown hard-on.

“It’s not just one asshole,” she pointed out, holding up a hand to tick off fingers as she made a list. “My dad. Madelaine. You.” The last one was delivered with a pointed look.

I flinched like a little bitch. Only this girl could make me do that.

Put a gun to my head? I didn’t even break a sweat.

But having Becca pissed at me? I was ready to shit my pants. The power she held over me was downright dangerous. The fact that she was my weakness had been exploited enough by my father, and I wouldn’t let it happen again. If that meant I had to push her away to keep her safe, then I would.

When Ryan and Maddie had gotten together, it had brought Becca back into my orbit. I’d done a damn good job of erasing her from my mind, but one moment was all it took for her to become the center of my universe yet again.

And, yet again, she’d walked unknowingly into my world and paid the price.

It wouldn’t happen a third time.

Sighing, I shoved my hands into my pockets. “None of that was your fault. You can’t blame yourself.”

She arched a brow. “I have a clinical diagnosis of anxiety that says my brain can, and will, blame me for anything.”

I frowned. “You were diagnosed with anxiety? When?”

“Suddenly concerned about my welfare, Court?” The mocking edge to her voice made me want to punch something else.

Or toss her over my lap as I spanked her ass.

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m always—”

A knock on the door cut me off, and I spun to face it, pulling the Glock from where I’d tucked it into the back of my jeans. Becca inhaled but didn’t say anything. She stayed quiet and let me handle things.

Fuck if I didn’t wish it could always be that way.

“It’s me.” Rook’s voice was muffled, and I unlocked the door and yanked it open.

He stood on the other side with the waitress I’d paid to spill a drink on Becca. Neither of them looked happy.

Rook hooked a thumb at the waitress. “Eric’s asking what’s taking so long.”

“I tried to stall,” the waitress added, looking guilty.

I felt Becca come up behind me but blocked her when she tried to move around me.

A faint smile lifted Rook’s lips as he spotted her over my shoulder. “Hey, Bex. Long time no see.”

“Hey, Rook.” A small hand curled over my bicep. “Court, let me by.”

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