He lifted a shoulder. “As you just pointed out, we don’t know anything about each other. And we both know your track record isn’t exactly trustworthy.”
“Judge me all you want, then, but leave Noah out of it,” she snapped. “And it still doesn’t warrant you breaking and entering.”
“I have a key.” He pulled the proof from his pocket.
“Why—who gave you a key?”
He slipped it back with a careless shrug. “I’ve had one for years.”
She held out her hand and tried to remain calm. “Give it to me.”
“No.”
“If you think I’m going to let you keep a key so you can sneak in here whenever you want—”
“I didn’t sneak, I live here.”
“I want that key.”
He crossed his arms over his chest with a grim smile. “No.”
“I mean it, I—” Her mind suddenly caught up. “What did you say?”
“I said no.”
She bit back a frustrated growl. “You don’t live here.”
“I do now.”
No. God no. She couldn’t live with Colton—it was bad enough working with him. “But, what about your apartment?”
“I gave up my lease.”
“Then you’ll have to get a different one. You can’t stay here.”
He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table. Unconcerned arrogance switched to intense determination so fast she blinked. “I’ve already moved into the third room and there isn’t one single thing you’re going to do about it.”
“There’s no way Joel will agree to this if I tell him—”
“The only thing you’re going to tell Joel is that you have no problem with the arrangement.”
“Don’t bet on that,” she shot back with false bravado.
He reached to adjust the nine inch butcher knife, lining it up at a ninety-degree angle to the edge of the table before meeting her gaze once more. “Oh, I’d bet on it.”
His cocky, self-confident attitude pissed her off, but what could she do? She didn’t take the gesture as a physical threat, but she read loud and clear the underlying threat—if she so much as said one word, he’d go straight to Joel and Britt and tell them what happened before she arrived on the ranch. Add the whole knife incident just now and she’d look like the deceitful, psychotic kleptomaniac Colton believed her to be. How long would Joel let her stay near his family then? He had her, dammit, and by the satisfaction in his expression, he knew it.
Colton straightened, one corner of his mouth crooked up. “I’ve got groceries in the car.”
After he’d strolled out the door, she reached for the knife and returned it safely to the wooden block. Should she just tell Joel? Get everything out in the open so Colton had nothing to hold over her head?
No!
The silent denial sounded loud and swift. After getting to know Joel these last few days and what Britt told her of his background, he would more than likely insist on involving the police. Word of her and Noah’s location would get back to Robert through the NYPD. She didn’t trust any cops to be able to protect them, and most especially she didn’t trust the NYPD. They’d done nothing when she was date-raped by one of their own and even less when she’d first reported her suspicion that Robert tried to kill her.
She’d reported it to a captain, who’d assigned it to a detective, who’d known an officer who was a friend of the family. Jeremy. When the very man who’d raped her called to set up an appointment to take her formal statement about his best friend Robert, the warning threat in his voice had been unmistakable.
That’s when she’d known the only way to be safe was to take Noah and get as far away as possible. They’d left in less than an hour.