Quadruple Duty

“Who the hell do you think you are?” I demanded. “This is my project. That was my call!”

Ryan stared back at me as if I’d sprouted three additional heads. He obviously didn’t get it.

“That guy was doing good work,” I said, “and now he’s gone. He’s already got most of our deposit, and—”

“Oh he’ll be returning any unused monies.”

I stopped talking, then laughed involuntarily. “You haven’t experienced many contractors. That’s not usually how they work.”

“That’s how this one works,” said Ryan, glancing menacingly out through the window. A plume of dust kicked up as the last truck left our driveway. “Trust me.”

I was absolutely seething. I’d watched him commit violence, and then order me back in the house like some little girl while he fired the best contractor we could’ve possibly had. And all because some guy grabbed my ass.

He was only protecting you.

“Bullshit.”

I was speaking more to the voice in my head than to Ryan. But that’s not how he saw it.

“Look,” he said, “I know this isn’t what you wanted. It’s what had to happen.” He paused awkwardly. “And I’m sorry if this ruins our date later on, but—”

“Date?” I sneered. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

I pushed past him quickly and kept going, mostly because I was going to cry. I didn’t even know why, all I knew was that the tears would be coming soon and nothing I could do would stop them.

Twenty-Seven

SAMMARA

I was driving faster than I should, probably because I was going somewhere I didn’t want to go. And yet, I had to go to work. Had to make sure everything at the office was squared away, especially since I was coming back on Monday.

I sighed as I gripped the steering wheel even tighter. What the hell had happened to my life? A week ago I was contentedly single, and just yesterday I was happily being shared by two beautiful men.

And now? Now I felt like a total piece of crap. Like I’d screwed everything up with everyone, all because of a snap judgment.

Maybe.

On one hand Ryan’s actions had been extremely rash. He’d acted on a situation that was mine to deal with, without really thinking about my own feelings. I was angry he’d made decisions that weren’t his to make. That he’d moved with callousness and a complete disregard for what I was trying to accomplish, even when I had his own best interests as heart.

But on the flip side of the coin? I also realized he was only looking out for me. Ryan was protecting me. Standing up for me against some creepy, handsy guy…

Just as any normal boyfriend would.

See? You’re an asshole Sammara.

The internal judgment was harsh, but I had to admit it could definitely apply. I’d gone back at him just as hard — maybe even harder — at a time when we were potentially growing close.

He was only trying to take care of you.

Still, Ryan Dunham was an Army Ranger. He’d been trained to fight, to harm, to kill. And all he’d done is break this guy’s wrist. This pervert’s wrist… who’d tried to touch me.

He didn’t just try. He did touch you.

In the end I supposed the sub-contractor deserved it, especially considering I’d already evaded his grasp. I definitely wasn’t the first female he groped. But hopefully, thanks to Ryan, I’d be the last.

And that was his point, wasn’t it?

The further I drove away from the house, the more I realized he’d been right. Maybe violence isn’t always the answer, but I could probably get behind a little hard justice now and then as a preventative measure.