“He would have killed you.”
“Then maybe you should have let him.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“It’s funny,” she snaps, “I was fine beforeyoushowed up. My life was normal. Now? Now it’s a fucked up mess and I’m suddenly living in a nightmare where my own father wants me dead and the man I’m currentlyfuckingwanted me dead only a few days ago.”
She’s too wired right now, too emotional and I currently don’t have the patience to deal with it.
“Shower. Bed.” I order.
“Asshole.”
“Don’t push me, Wren.”
She climbs off the bed, wincing a little as the skin on her legs stretches and moves, disturbing the grazes. She comes to stand in front of me, tilting her chin so she’s looking down her nose at me.
“I savedyourlife,” she jabs her finger into the centre of my chest, “Even if he were aiming at me, that bullet would have hit you too or maybe he would have shot me and then shot you immediately after. I fucking saved you, but I should have let you die. It would have made sense.”
“You’re right,” I grab her wrist, hauling her to me. She lands hard against my chest, “You should have let me get shot but you didn’t, and I now oweyoua debt.”
“What?”
“You saved my life, I owe you.”
“Then let me go.”
“I’m sorry,” that’s genuine, “I can’t do that, even if I wanted to this war is on your doorstep now.”
“Because of you.”
I nod, confirming.
She sighs heavily and starts to push against my chest, trying to remove herself from me. There’s no fight in her, no push, no heat. She just looks defeated and that’s on me.
Guilt sits heavy in the centre of my chest.
I’ve been a part of this life for thirty one years, most of those have been spent with blood on my hands, lives have been torn apart because of me, both directly and indirectly and I’ve never felt an ounce of guilt. I’ve never cared enough to.
And yet this woman,this fucking womanhas crawled under my skin.
I fucking care. And I hate it.
“Shower,” I order. “Bed.”
She laughs without humor, “Sure thing,boss.”
I watch her saunter out of the room and towards the bathroom here on the top floor, hypnotized by the sway of her hips and then she slams the door. I wait until I hear the water turn on and then wait a little bit longer for the door to open and close and then I leave.
Back in the barn, Ryker has the guy awake. He’s crying. Fucking pussy.
I grab a chair and slam it down in front of him, the sudden thud making the guy jump.
“What’s your name?” I ask as I take a seat in front of him, placing my ankle on my knee and hooking my fingers behind my head casually.
This I can do. This I don’t feel guilt for.
The man looks at me with glassy blood shot eyes, “Harry.”