“I don’t know.”
“Is it the unions and the mob?”
“No—I—no—”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sobs. “My husband is dying and my daughter’s attacking me. This is just priceless. I’m hanging up.”
“Okay. And don’t worry, mom. I’m safe. Just in case you wondered.” I hang up. I know she knows what’s going on. I have to go there. I have to make her talk. Walker can take me and protect me.
I open the bathroom door and jolt to find Eric standing there, his hands on either side of the doorframe. He’s so damn big and I can smell that earthy, male scent of him. And those blue eyes. Those blue eyes look at me with piercing judgment I don’t want to feel from this man. He’s the person who shouldn’t judge me. He’s the person who should expect judgment from me, but after what happened at the coffee shop I know he does, on both counts. And now, now, he’s cold, calculated, unemotional. “Eric,” I breathe out.
“You asked to leave? You want to fucking leave?”
He’s not cold and calculated anymore. He’s angry all over again.
“What did you expect? Because the minute I hit a nerve, you shut me out. You let me feel temporary, like a house guest. You did that to me. You made sure I know that I’m alone. I’m alone. I don’t even have my mother anymore. I don’t have my house because no matter what, I can’t go back, but I felt like I had you and us, but you made me feel like an outsider. If I’m alone, I need to just be alone. Move out of my way.”
“Not a chance in hell, baby.” He drags me to him, the touch of his hand on my arm sending electricity shooting up my arm and over my chest. A moment later, I’m flush with his hard body and every emotion we’ve ever shared is right here, right now, combustible, so damn combustible that I think the room might ignite.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Harper
“Let go, Eric,” I pant out, feeling the rush of heat that this man’s body creates in mine. “Let go.”
He’s stone, his jaw hard. His eyes steel. His entire demeanor. “You don’t get to just walk away.”
I want him to fight for me. I want him to want me to stay, but I will not be his prison. I will not be a puppet to have my strings pulled based on his mood. “You can’t stop me.”
“I can. I will. Until I know you’re safe—”
“And then I can go? When I’m safe?” A muscle in that hard-set jaw flexes, and I don’t give him time to reply, not that I believe he’s about to offer anything but silence and brooding arrogance. “I can’t do this,” I say. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what, Harper?”
“Play this off and on game with you.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I’m not even sure what that has to do with my statement, but let’s go there, Eric. You’re protecting me? By shutting me out? Because we both know that’s what happened back at that coffee shop. I hit some Kingston fucking nerve and then you shut down. You shut me out and I get it. You made a mistake asking me to move here. I made a mistake by agreeing.”
“Did you now?”
“Yes. I did because I’m not escaping the Kingstons. They control you.”
“They don’t control me.”
“Yes, they do, or we wouldn’t be like we are right now.”
He tangles his fingers into my hair and turns me to press me against the wall. “The only person controlling me is you.”
“Me? No. No, I have no control.”
“You have too much control. You make me forget my rules. You make me—”
“I don’t make you do anything, Eric. I’m going to leave. I’m going to—”