He slid his fingers through his chin-length, walnut-colored hair to loosen the strands that were flattened from the helmet. “Because she’s Addie’s friend and North’s sister. And she’s not exactly renting it.”
This had to be some kind of joke. He was screwing with me.
He continued, “She needed a place, and I needed someone to check on your house so I didn’t have to. Win-win.”
Fuck. He wasn’t kidding.
“How was I supposed to know you’d suddenly show up? You haven’t been back in five years.”
Not true. I’d been here eleven months ago, but he didn’t know because I hadn’t told anyone.
I’d spent two weeks here without seeing a single person. It was good thing, too, because my head had been seriously messed up after the shit we’d dealt with in Columbia where kids were being used as drug mules and trained as killers.
“You have no right. It’s my fuckin’ place.”
He shrugged as if the fact that I owned the property had no bearing on whether he could rent it out or not. No. Not rent, because that required the exchange of money. References. A fuckin’ contract with the owner—me.
Not that I gave a shit about references when it came to Macayla North, and I had more money than I needed.
“I called. You didn’t answer.”
I didn’t answer because I was busy getting my ass shot off by sex-trafficking psychos.
There was a loud clang in the cabin as if a frying pan had fallen to the floor. Maybe she was packing after all.
Jaeg sighed. “Come on, man. Don’t be a dick. She’s harmless.”
But she wasn’t harmless, and it had nothing to do with her piss-poor attempt to elbow me in the throat and knee me in the balls.
No.
It was the fact that her touch messed with my head. Or rather, the fact that it didn’t mess with it.
It was the fact that her being near me was dangerous.
It was the fact that every single molecule inside me threatened to come alive when she was close. And I couldn’t let that happen.
There was no chance in hell she was staying in my cabin. None.
It was suicidal, not only because my head was reeling with bungee-jumping demons, but because despite my attempt to keep this place secure, the reality was, nothing was secure in my world. I may be the hunter, but I was constantly hunted.
Shit, she should be running for her life from a guy like me.
She could stay with Addie and Hettie in town, or rent a motel room, for all I cared.
Just not here. Not near me. Not where she could open the scars and watch me bleed.
“Find her another place, Jaeg.”
I should beat him to a bloody pulp for this. And I could. Despite Jaeg having become one hell of a fighter because he was quick and agile, I was better. I’d proven I was better numerous times in the underground.
He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “How long are you staying, anyway…? Couple days? A week? When you fuck off again, she can check on your house.” He kicked a stone to the side. “Did you know Davey Parker and his crew broke into your place to party a few weeks back? She called me, but by the time I got here she’d had those little shits scattering. It still cost me a shitload to clean the place up.”
I wasn’t focused on what Davey and his crew did to my house, or that Jaeg had to clean it up. What I was focused on was that Davey and his crew were eighteen-year-old scumbags who had likely been fucked up on the drug of the month, and she’d cleared them out. She’d confronted them—alone.
“Get her out, Jaeg. Today,” I repeated.
“Gate, she needs this.”