Defiance (The Protectors 9)

As soon as I’d gotten home that night, I’d gone to the bathroom and thrown up. Then I’d climbed into the shower and cried until my brother had found me and helped me out. He’d crawled into bed with me and held me while I’d sobbed uncontrollably.

Then he’d thanked me.

Because he’d known what I’d done.

It had always been that way with me and Brody. Us watching out for each other.

Until the night I’d stopped having his back when I’d realized I couldn’t protect him from what was to come. I’d let my fear and uncertainty take over at that point, and I’d driven Brody away.

I was jolted from my thoughts by Vincent’s close proximity to me as he removed the gun from the nightstand. His eyes landed on me briefly, but he didn’t say anything. He looked pissed.

Though I had no idea how I could have pissed him off by just sitting there.

I watched as he went to his bag and rifled through it. I saw him take out a small cylinder of some kind, along with a roll of string. He went to the door and stuck the container to the doorframe. I had to assume it had some kind of adhesive on it that kept it mounted to the door. He tied a piece of string around a ring on the end of the cylinder and then attached the other piece of the string to the doorknob.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Homemade security system.”

“What do you mean?”

Vincent glanced over his shoulder at me and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. He was a good-looking guy. I wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but I knew he was in better shape than a lot of men his age. His muscles along his back rippled every time he moved and his tanned skin still had a sheen of moisture on it. My belly was fluttering and I felt an uncomfortable tightening in my pants. I willed it away, but unlike all the other times, this time my head was not so successful in overruling my body.

It’s not real…it’s the stress, I assured myself.

“This is a stun grenade. You’ve probably heard it called a flash bomb. Police use it for crowd control, and for when they’re storming a house or building where there’s an armed suspect inside.”

“I’ve seen those on TV. They emit a loud sound, right?”

Vincent nodded. “Light, too. They disorient a person long enough for the police to take them down.”

“So if someone opens the door...”

“I’ll have the time to disarm them and put them down.”

“Won’t it disorient you, too?” I asked.

He sent me a smirk over his shoulder and I felt that flutter in my belly turn into a full-on parade of butterflies.

“I’ll be expecting it,” he said. “An intruder won’t. And since all I need is a few seconds of the advantage…”

He let the statement hang and stepped back to check his work. “Needless to say, if you decide to make a run for it, let me know first. Not like I’m going to stop you.”

I ground my teeth at that.

“Those guys must be good friends,” I muttered.

“What guys?”

“Beck’s father and uncle.”

Vincent was silent for a moment before saying, “They understand loyalty.”

It wasn’t the words themselves, but the way he said them that made me feel like he was definitely taking a dig at me. Which made no sense, because he didn’t know the first thing about me.

“Is it just me or all politicians?” I asked as Vincent moved to the opposite side of the bed…the side closer to the door.

“Since I don’t know you from Adam, what do you think?” he asked.

“I think you’re a judgmental son of a bitch,” I said.

“I call it like I see it.”

I was about to make a snide retort when I saw Vincent reach for the button on his pants. “What are you doing?” I squeaked.

Yeah…squeaked.

Nathan Wilder, thirty-year-old candidate for senator, just squeaked like a girl.

“I’m going to bed,” he said simply. My throat went dry as the button popped open. The sound of the zipper was like a gunshot going off. I knew I needed to move, but all I could do was sit there and watch Vincent’s thick fingers maneuver his pants down his hips. “You didn’t think this was one of those scenarios, did you?”

I had no clue what he was talking about. Was he even talking? I heard sound coming from his mouth, but my brain was focused on the sight of his cock nestled in his black briefs.

His very large cock, if the bulge was anything to go by.

“What?” I managed to ask. It wasn’t until Vincent stopped pushing his pants any farther down his legs that I realized I’d been staring. I jerked my eyes up to his and saw a gleam of satisfaction in them. “What?” I asked again, completely lost.