Glancing away, she gave her head a shake, answering with a short, “No”. Then she reached inside the concealed zip pocket by her hip and fished out a set of keys.
My eyes narrowed when she turned her head away and swiped a hand over her reddened cheeks.
Keeping my eyes trained on the side of her face, I asked, “Did he hurt you?”
A quick snort erupted from her flared nostrils, and her piercing blue eyes snared mine with a derisive glare. “Did he hurt me?”
The accusation in her voice stumped me.
At my look of confusion, she shook her head with a resigned sigh, then asked, “What if he did? Hurt me? What is it to you?”
My jaw twitched as I held her stare. How the fuck to answer her?
I wish I fucking knew.
I’d take exception to any guy forcing himself on a girl half his size, but this was more than that. More than I could wrap my head around. More than I could explain to her in any way that would make sense. It felt personal in a way I didn’t understand.
I just knew I didn’t want to see any other guy’s hands on her. That I wanted to fucking maul Bateman for touching her. That I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her home with me.
But I couldn’t say that shit out loud. I’d sound like a fucking nutcase.
She took my silence for an answer and nodded once before reaching for the door on the driver’s side.
“Where are you going?” I asked with a sigh.
“Home,” she muttered without looking at me.
My brows pulled together. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Yeah. So?”
Was she fucking for real? I pinned her with a heavy stare. “So, you sure as shit ain’t driving yourself home, Snow Queen.”
Her brows twitched, face hard when she looked at me. “Tell me again what I can or can’t fucking do, Bradshaw.”
Striding toward her, I snatched the keys from her grasp with a muttered, “Do your fucking worst, sweetheart. If you think for one second I’m letting you drive tonight, you’re even crazier than I thought.”
She thrust her hand out. “Give me the keys.”
I widened my stance, planting my feet inches from hers and waiting until she craned her head back to meet my gaze. “No.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Now, Bradshaw.” The words squeezed out through tightly clenched teeth, slightly distorted.
Bending my upper body forward, I snagged her gaze. “Read my lips, Alissa… Hell. Fucking. No.”
Her hands flexed at her sides as she drew in a breath. “I’m going to kill you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, dismissing her as I straightened and strolled round to the passenger side. “You’ve been threatening to kill me since we were fucking five years old. Save it for tonight and get your ass in the car. I’ll drive you home.”
I swung the door wide and glanced up with both brows raised, daring her to fucking argue with me. Her lips settled into a harsh slash across her face as she glared over the roof of the car.
“I don’t fucking need you to drive me—”
“And I don’t give a fuck. Get in.”
Lissa clamped her mouth shut, but her eyes raged. She could fucking burn me to ash with them, I didn’t give a shit. If I had to throw her damn ass in the car and strap her down, then so fucking be it. No way was she driving.
She glared for a few seconds, then thrust her chin in the air and walked around the car. She slumped into the passenger seat without scratching my eyeballs out—as close to a win as I’d ever get from Lissa.