I stop at the top step, letting my arms hang at my sides. "Get in the house, Denielle."
Both heads whip toward me, and Denielle's eyes widen. She is pale as a ghost, her makeup smeared like a bad horror movie. Her lips part, and I widen my stance so I don't march down and knock the fucker's lights out right there.
"Who the hell are you?" the dimwit asks, still not releasing her.
I ignore him and hold Denielle's gaze. She looks small. Scared. Nothing like the woman that has held her own against me the last few weeks. An unknown weight settles in my chest. Even when I was the one in charge of our game, she never reacted like this. She was resigned to her guilt. Never terrified of me. She is terrified now. I shouldn't care what happens to her. I don't want to feel anything except blame and dislike. The weight gets heavier and—
"Den." Her name is out of my mouth before I can think about it. Not once, in all these years, have I addressed her with the nickname her friends have for her. She's always been Denielle orKeller.
Asswipe's fingers go slack, peering confusedly between both of us. She uses this as her chance and frees herself from his hold.
"Let's go," I gentle my command. I grip the back of my neck with one hand. I can't recall using this tone with anyone but Ken. The all-too-familiar cockroaches are back.
Slowly, Denielle takes one step backward, then another, never letting Collin out of her sight. When she is far enough away, she pivots and speeds toward the house. She doesn't stop until she stands parallel to me—me facing the man she just escaped and her with her back to him. I glance at her. Her lips are trembling, and the need to wrap her in my arms overcomes me. Breathing suddenly feels like a strenuous chore.
Instead, I shift closer, the back of my hand grazing her knuckles. An electric current shoots up my arm, setting my insides aflame. She stiffens but doesn't move.
I don't break the connection, and, for the first time, I direct my focus directly at the guy. "Leave."
"Excuse me?" His whiney pitch makes me want to draw my gun to bring my point across.
"You heard me." It takes every ounce of self-control not to remove him myself.
"You have no right—"
There go the good intentions.
My H&K is in my hands before he can finish his sentence. "Now." I clench my teeth, breathing steadily through my nose.
Stay calm.
"This is ridiculous. Denielle," he huffs like a little pussy.
Aaand the safety comes off.
With both of my hands on the gun, the physical connection between Denielle is severed until she places her hands on my forearm. She doesn't put pressure into the touch. The tips of her fingers are like feathers. A shudder rolls down my spine.
I peer down at her, and she shakes her head imperceptibly. The way her brown eyes beg me puts my insides in knots. I dip my chin and lower the weapon, putting the safety back in place. Without acknowledging the dude, I pivot so my front faces her side.
I don't have to say anything. She starts walking through the still-open entrance, and I follow, leaving the almost corpse in the driveway. I shut the front door, pulling my phone out of my back pocket at the same time.
It rings twice before Ethan answers. "What's up, B?"
"Make sure Collin Liberman leaves the property and put him on thedo-not-enterlist with the gate. If I see him here again, I will put a bullet through his brain." I end the call before he can reply. I'll have to explain myself later, but for now, I have another concern—a concern I don't want to have.
CHAPTERTEN
MARCUS
My muscles uncoil,and I can inhale freely again. The whole scene couldn't have lasted more than five minutes.
While relaying my orders to Ethan, I followed Liberman's every move through the narrow window beside the entrance. He got back into his car but didn't drive away. Shifting my attention to the inside, I see Denielle round the corner on the second floor.
Oh, no you don't!
Again, two steps at a time, I give chase.
"Denielle." My tone is harsher than it should be.