I shut the door behind me loudly, leaning against it.
“Going somewhere?” I asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“Anywhere you’re not,” she snapped, walking past me and grabbing a few more things.
“Need cab fare?”
She lifted her head, her gaze frosty and cold. “No. Julian will take me to a safe house. He has already assured me of that. Then he’ll help me get home once we are finished with this case.”
Shock rendered me immobile and speechless.
Julian?
When had he told her that?
“You’re not fucking leaving. And you’re not getting involved with this case again.”
She slammed the lid of the suitcase shut. “Yes, I fucking am.”
I stalked toward her. “If you think I am letting you go out there half-cocked, with some crazy idea about this investigation—”
She cut me off. “You’re the one going off half-cocked, Marcus. What I do or not do is none of your concern anymore.”
I grabbed her shoulders. “You are my fucking concern.”
She shook her head wildly. “No, I am not.”
“What did you think you were proving down there with that little knife stunt? You’re lucky I hadn’t turned my head! Did you think about that?” My hands tightened on her arms. “Or did you want to hurt me?”
“No, I didn’t.” She broke out of my hold, pushing me away. “I’m an expert with a knife, Marcus. I can calculate the speed, angle, and trajectory to throw it and hit—or, in your case—not hit my target every single damn time. I was so good, they had me show off my skills at the academy.” She jabbed me in the chest. “If you would ever talk to me about my life, you’d know that, but you just made me realize all I am is something for you to pity and play with.”
I blinked. That was what she thought?
“I know I’m a rookie, but I’m smart. I might be at the start of my career and learning, but I learn fast.”
“And yet you ended up in that cage,” I said.
I deserved the slap I got for that remark. Her hand lifted and swung in a perfect arc, and I knew it was coming. I didn’t try to duck. I met her wide eyes as the sound of her palm on my face echoed in the room. My cheek stung from the impact, and my eyes watered with the force of her anger.
“You know that wasn’t my fault. I did everything right,” she whispered.
I did know that, but I didn’t back down. My anger was out of control.
“Did that feel good?” I asked, my voice low. “You want to hit me again? Throw another knife at me and not miss this time? You want to take out your frustrations on me? You know you can’t cut it in this career, but you’re determined to try—even if you end up dead.”
“I hate you,” she snarled, pushing at my chest. “You insufferable, egotistical—” a sob escaped her mouth “—asshole.”
“What are you trying to do?” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “Why are you insisting on trying to offer yourself up as a sacrifice? What the hell are you trying to prove?”
“That I can do it!” she yelled, almost panting. “I am not going to let him beat me! I can help. I want to help, and you keep stopping me! You won’t even listen with an open mind, you stupid, arrogant jerk.”
My fear and worry escaped at her words. I shook my head.
“Don’t ask me to do that, sweetheart.” My voice broke, and she stopped her hand waving and stared at me. “Don’t ask me to risk you ending up caged and taken away. To be hurt so badly I can’t help you heal.” I met her confused gaze. “I can’t.”
For a moment, there was only the sound of our ragged breathing. Then suddenly, she lunged, locking her arms around my neck, crashing her mouth to mine. I was right there with her, dragging her body up my torso, wrapping her legs around my waist. Our tongues dueled and fought for dominance, neither of us giving an inch. She bit my bottom lip, and I tasted blood, ignoring it and kissing her harder, grinding her lips against her teeth. She clutched the back of my hair, yanking, and I hissed in pain. Turning, I pressed her to the door, trapping her between the hard wood and my body. I reached between us, tearing her shirt, the material rending easily with my fists. I yanked down her lacy bra, her breasts spilling over the top. I sucked hard at her nipples, biting and squeezing them until they were red and abraded from my mouth. She clawed at my neck and shoulders, hissing like a kitten between her groans and whimpers. I walked backward, then turned and dropped her on the mattress, tearing off her yoga pants and underwear, and pulling my shirt over my head. I stared at her, her legs scissoring, her face flushed.