″I didn’t invite you in,” I say. Because what else do you say to a six-foot tall, tattooed, brick wall of a man that is in the mafia and murders people? If I tell him to fuck off, will he pull out his gun and press it to my temple?
His jaw clenches as he rolls up the sleeves to his dress shirt. He’s calm, moving at turtle speed, and walking slowly towards me. If he didn’t have that beautiful auburn beard trimmed so neatly and hiding his cheeks, I know they’d be as red as mine are now.
It shouldn’t turn me on so much that he is angry. I should be running for the hills right about now. The man is jealous of me speaking to his brothers, for fuck’s sake.
Toxic. Run, Haley. Get out now.
The seed of doubt settles into my stomach, twisting and pulling like weeds on a vine. I haven’t moved an inch when he finally reaches me, his chest puffed out.
Smokey deliciousness rolls off his body and wafts into my nose. And it clouds my judgment.
″I invited myself in,lass. It seems you have some manners to learn.” The way he says lass is so condescending. He’s using it to piss me off now, knowing that I don’t like to be treated like a little girl.
″You’re not my father. I don’t need to learn anything.”Really?That’s a wonderful comeback if I’m an eight-year-old. I refrain from rolling my eyes at my stupid mouth.
″You deliberately wanted to anger me.” He practically growls as his nostrils flare.
I turn away, avoiding looking at him as I snort. “You’re huffing and puffing won’t work on me. I’m an Army veteran, a trauma surgeon. There’s little that can frighten me away.”
He grabs my chin, forcing me to face him. My breath catches when our eyes meet. His dart between mine, and I know he is attempting to figure out the reasons behind my actions. Though he is still holding my chin, I force myself to look away, because he’s slowly thawing my icy demeanor.
″Do you think pushing me away is going to work? It won’t. Even if you don’t want me, I won’t leave. Especially not when you have some asshole leaving you flowers and watching you naked in your home.
″You’re fighting this connection, Haley. But the connectionishere. You’re mine. I protect what’s mine.”
″No. I’m. Not.” My words are slow so that he can process them. He needs to get rid of this possessive hold on me. I’m nothing to be bought. “You don’t fucking own me, Callum. I’m a human being, not a piece of property.”
″What do I have to do to show you? Hmm?”
I don’t respond.
His thumb strokes the scar on my neck, the veins pulsating rapidly under his touch. His hand could easily choke me. He could take the life from my body, and even though I’d fight back, I won’t be able to win.
He continues to run his thumb along the raised lines, gazing intently at the mark. That’s when the realization finally comes to me. He’s not rough with me. He never has been. Since the second he dragged me outside of the bar while he smoked, he’s never actually hurt me.
Yes, he pushes me, but his outrage is never directed at me. He manages to contain it, even if I see it brewing inside of him. Maybe I won’t ever get him to the breaking point, and all of this pushing is for nothing.
Tapping a foot, I chew on the inside of my lip and try to work up the courage to tell him everything.Out with it. Tell him everything.
Maybe it’ll feel good to get it off my chest? I have to stop hiding.
″This is very hard for me,” I say.
″What is?”
″These emotions. I had a fucked up childhood, Cal. No one’s ever taught me what to do with what I’m feeling.”
″Tell me. Get it off your chest, Haley.”
I sigh, heading for the couch. He follows, his gaze never leaving me, as I quietly pace for a few minutes, stewing on where to begin, how to tell him.
Finally, I sit. “It started with Sarah.”
He sits beside me, folding my hand in his.
″Mom and Dad divorced not long after because he blamed her for the accident, and she turned to pills. It was a confusing time for me. Up until then, I’d never been alone. It’s an indescribable feeling, losing a twin. Almost like my soul died with her.
″One moment we were laughing, playing some stupid kid’s game. And then I had no one. My parents were grieving, and it was like I didn’t matter. And Luke, my brother, was only four.