Page 42 of Fury

They consider me a friend?

“I’m not sure,” I say, my voice croaky from sleep.

“Just give us a chance,” Myla pleads, offering me a smile. “I swear, we can change your mind.”

Oh, what the hell.

I step aside, and I’m rewarded by their triumphant smiles as they walk into the apartment. Myla looks around and then calls out, “Damn, Bonnie. Western is loaded. This is a nice little place.”

Bonnie snorts. “Don’t I know it. The man is always reminding me. I told him maybe he should buy me a house if he’s throwing his cash around.”

Acacia laughs. “Get it, girl.”

It’s hard not to like these girls. They’re so easy to get along with.

“How is the pain?” Bonnie asks me, pulling a pill bottle out from her purse and handing it to me. “Fury instructed me to give these to you. You’ve got him spinning in circles.”

Fuck Fury.

“I hope he spins himself to the ground,” I mutter.

“Well, that’s why we’re here. We’ve got a lot to talk about,” Acacia says, handing me a drink.

I have no idea what it is, but I’ll take it.

“Am I meant to mix alcohol and painkillers?” I ask, taking it.

“It’s weak. You’ll be fine.”

Hmm.

“What exactly is it you think we’re going to discuss?” I question, as Myla begins dishing out some food.

My stomach rumbles.

I can’t remember the last time I ate.

“Drink that up and we’ll get to it.”

Well.

This should be interesting.

“SO, THERE YOU HAVE it,” Bonnie tells me. “What Fury was saying that day was only one part of the story. He doesn’t mean to come across that way, but he’s been so burned in the past that he holds back, but I promise you, he does not feel sorry for you or think you’re weak. Fury protecting you is because he cares because I can promise you, he has not protected any other woman before.”

I stare at Bonnie, a bowl of Chinese food on my lap, a glass of vodka in my hand. She just explained that I only heard part of the conversation she was having with Fury and that after he said what I overheard, she got into him and told him to stop denying how he really felt just because he’s been hurt before. After a back-and-forth conversation, Fury admitted that he did care more than he was willing to let on and that he didn’t think I was weak.

It eases the pain, but I still can’t help but feel betrayed.

She also told me that the last relationship he had ended in him being cheated on, and, because of that, he hasn’t had one since. He hasn’t connected with a woman, and she thinks that I scare him because he feels something. I want to believe she’s right—after all, it makes sense, but I still wonder if deep down he does feel a little sorry for me and that is driving the hero response in him. He wants to help me because I’m a woman, and he doesn’t like that I’m being abused, but does that mean he cares?

It's debatable.

“Maybe,” I say, my voice soft. “I guess I can’t help but think he really does just feel sorry for me, I mean ... who wouldn’t? I’m a pity party.”

“You’re not,” Myla tells me, her voice firm. “You’re a god damned warrior, Alexis. Not everyone can live through what you have. That takes strength.”

“Or weakness,” I point out.

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