Page 21 of Fury

He cannot be serious.

“Jealous?” I sputter, shaking my head frantically. “As if.”

That grin gets wider, and, oh man, my heart is racing.

“You’re wonderin’ what it would be like to be on my lap.”

“I’m married,” I scoff.

Those eyes flash with challenge. “Don’t mean shit.”

“Yes,” I squeak. “Yes. It does. We’re getting off topic. You can’t do that when Hope is in your house.”

“I got that the first time you said it.”

“Why are you so damned infuriating?” I exhale, exasperated.

He doesn’t answer.

He just keeps grinning at me.

“Are you going to stop parading women around while your niece is in your home?”

He nods.

“Great. We could have just gotten to that from the beginning,” I mumble, shoving my hand into my purse to find my keys.

“What does it matter to you, anyway? Are you this passionate about all the kids in your class?”

“If they told me what Hope told me, then yes, I would be.”

“Or is it just that you enjoy comin’ here and yellin’ at me because I’m the only person you can let out your frustrations to that isn’t goin’ to give you a black eye.”

His words have the air in my lungs wheezing out and my entire body jerking. The cocky, arrogant, overbearing dick. How dare he say something like that so ... so ... casually.

“Excuse me?” I manage, my voice too shocked to work.

He crosses his arms. “I didn’t stutter.”

Narrowing my eyes, I cross my arms, too. “Why are you so damned invested in my life?”

“Because,” he tells me, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, bringing it to his lips and lighting it up, “I want to know why a woman as smart as you, is stayin’ with a man that’s very clearly abusive.”

My knees shake as his words cause a reaction in my body that I’m not certain how to handle.

Too close.

He’s getting too close.

“You know nothing of my situation,” I manage, my voice tight.

“I have eyes. I can see plenty.”

“I’m done here,” I turn, facing my car, and my fingers stretch out to pull the door open, trembling more and more with every passing second.

Fury’s hard chest presses against my back, and I freeze, the keys slipping from my fingers as my entire body turns to stone. I close my eyes, holding my breath as he leans in, his voice at my ear. “No woman turns to stone when a man touches her if she isn’t bein’ beaten.”

His fingers stretch out and run down my arm, and I hold my breath, keeping my eyes closed, even though my body is desperate to respond.

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