Sex Junkie (Cowboy Addiction 1)

“That’s insane,” Grant said, quickly adding, “But for the record, Morgan, he would’ve been better off dead.”

“You don’t mean that.”

He grated back his fury and a houseful of curse words. With fists tightly drawn, he said, “I assure you, I do.”

Morgan touched his arm and gently said, “I don’t want to lose you, Grant. You don’t want to lose me. What I feel for Kilo isn’t love. You have no reason to be jealous.”

“Are you serious?” Grant asked, shaking his head, trying to understand what he might have said or done to make her think he was envious of her dope dealer. “Morgan, Kilo takes lives. He destroys them. I could take his in a minute if I didn’t think I’d be separated from you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” she asked. “Everyone knows you, Blake, and my brothers have always been above the law. You could’ve gotten away with murder. If you were so hell-bent on taking a life, why didn’t you just pull the trigger and put to rest a damn drug dealer who according to you, doesn’t deserve to live?”

Morgan was toying with him, and he didn’t like it. “Because, damn it!”

“Because why?” she asked, raising her voice. “If you can beat the ever-lovin’ hell out of someone, then you have it in you to kill as well. You tell me why you wanted Kilo dead, and then you explain why you spared his life! I need to know if I have a real man in my bed, or another monster hiding behind his name and old family money.”

“Morgan,” Blake said, attempting to calm her, apparently afraid she’d push the wrong buttons in Grant. Today certainly wasn’t the day for that.

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nbsp; She shook free of Blake’s grasp and said, “I deserve an answer.”

Grant narrowed his gaze, impressed by what he saw. The first signs of the Morgan he used to love reappeared out of nowhere. The sensible woman who always possessed the extraordinary ability to make Grant stop and consider his actions, the consequences that potentially followed whatever course or path he chose to pursue, sat next to him with supreme confidence.

Morgan was slowly coming around. Maybe she didn’t know it yet, but Grant had a feeling she just took a big leap in the right direction. She was standing up for something she believed in, and she deserved to know the truth. Was she going to bed with a man of integrity and honor, or lying down next to another thug who was no better than Kilo or someone of Kilo’s caliber?

“Say something, Grant,” she encouraged him. “Tell me what’s on your heart. What’s going on in that head of yours? I know you’re hurting. God help me, I’ve seen the pain in your eyes, but you’re not a killer. Are you? Have you turned into someone I can’t reach?”

“No, of course not,” Grant replied, cursing himself for ever drawing his fist back and punching Kilo in the first place. Had he caused Morgan to doubt him? He swung his gaze toward Blake. Had his actions earlier made others question the man he was because of one fit of rage?

“Why didn’t you kill him?” Morgan asked the question one last time, finality in every syllable, every word.

“I made a choice to live with myself. Maybe I could’ve wiped a piece of scum off the face of the earth, but the world wouldn’t have been a better place. Like you mentioned, if you decide later that you want your drugs, there are many others like Kilo out there. You’ll find another dealer if that’s what you want to do. There’s one on every street in every city. I can’t kill ’em all.” A beat later, he added, “And even if I could, Scott isn’t coming back. He’s dead.” He gasped as he acknowledged what he’d tried so desperately to avoid saying, even after all this time.

“Grant, you need to make peace with yourself. You aren’t responsible for your brother’s death.”

“Maybe not, but I didn’t do everything I could have, and after Scott died, I was angry. For over three years, I’ve needed somewhere to take out my anger and frustrations. Kilo provided the perfect target. Then, I stopped and considered the consequences.

“Tonight, at the hospital, Kilo provoked me. I grabbed the pillow underneath his head, and while the idiot lay there taunting me, I thought of how easy it would be to cover his face and hold the pillow there until he took his last breath. Then, I thought of you, Morgan, and the kind of man I want to be for you, and for myself. I’m not the kind of person who takes a life.”

“After what I saw earlier, I was beginning to wonder,” Blake said.

“I owe you an apology, Blake.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Grant replied. “You were right to pull me off Kilo, and I want to apologize for my behavior.”

“You don’t owe me an apology, man. You were angry, and rightfully so.”

“No, there’s no excuse for my behavior. What I did out there could’ve affected us all. I could’ve killed a man, and you would’ve been an accessory to murder. I put you and myself in a bad situation.”

“You don’t owe me an apology. Listen, Grant, no one knows how a drug user and their decisions can affect everyone around them until they’ve lived it. I’ll never judge you.” A beat later, he said, “Unless, of course, you throw one of those right hooks my way.”

They shared a laugh and then Grant said, “Kilo is fine, Morgan. He’s alive, and I feel just as relieved about that as you do. That said, if he ever comes here again, I will kill him out of self-defense because unfortunately, if he comes back, he’ll have killing on his mind. I’ll protect what’s mine. I’ll protect you.”

“You’re not a killer, Grant Fowler.” A second or two later, she added, “Then again, Kit and Kemper used to say good people do bad things when their loved ones are threatened.”

“That’s right,” Grant told her.