Yeah, I was careful. I was alive because I was fuckin’ careful, and Georgie was my responsibility. I promised Connor if anything ever happened to him I’d watch out for his sister. And right now things were delicate as hell. Fuck, I had to get her drinking under wraps.
I ran my hand over the top of my head. If Matt hadn’t called me, she’d have fucked some pussy who nearly pissed himself the second I walked in the door. More like burst through the door. Georgie didn’t need a guy who she could walk all over. Because she would. The guy would survive one day under her sass and then he’d be crawling around on his knees doing anything she asked of him. He’d hate it, but more so, she’d fuckin’ hate it.
“Pilot called. Ready when you are,” Josh said then followed Tyler out the door.
I turned to Vic who was leaning against the sliding glass door out to the terrace, his arms crossed. Yeah, he was pissed he was on babysitting duty instead of coming with us. But Vic was the only guy I trusted not to fall for any of Georgie’s bullshit.
“Keep her contained. I don’t want her disappearing. She’s been drinking far more than usual and …” I stopped. I couldn’t put my finger on what was happening with her. She drank, partied hard, stayed out late and yet—something didn’t sit right. Hadn’t in a really long time. I felt like the real Georgie was hidden behind all the bullshit with her drinking. I wanted the fuckin’ Georgie I knew who was smart as hell, determined, strong and even vulnerable and soft.
Vic shook his head and huffed. “Told you what should happen here.”
Yeah, Vic thought I should lock her up. “Can’t do it. Not going to.”
“So, you’d rather see her kill herself slowly? Or better yet, get killed or raped or found in the street dead because she tripped and fell, so drunk she couldn’t even pull her head out of a puddle of water?”
“Fuck you, Vic.” This was a sore spot between us. Vic thought I should have Georgie forced into rehab. Of course, it wouldn’t be legal because she was over eighteen, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was I wasn’t going to do it. Flat out. Not a chance. I’d protect her, help her any way I could, but I wasn’t locking her away with people I didn’t know while I was across the ocean, not knowing if I was coming back.
Georgie came out of the room wearing the tight black skirt she had on last night and my shirt—no fuckin’ bra. I could see her erect nipples through the material, and I silently cursed. “Going to borrow the shirt,” she said. She pulled it up to her nose and breathed in. Jesus, if that didn’t turn me on and make my cock hard. “Might even get myself off while wearing it.”
I took a deep breath and controlled the grin threatening to emerge. The girl lived on turning me on. All I could think about was how she would look naked laying over my lap while I spanked her until she begged me to stop.
I had to get the fuck out of here. “Be good, Georgie.” I started for the door.
“Definition of good: to be desired,” she called out.
My hand stiffened around the doorknob. “It also means to be approved of. Don’t disappoint me.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath and knew I reached her, somewhere in that numb oasis she was drowning in. Could I save her? I didn’t know any longer.VIC WAS A pain in my ass, and I was beginning to think he enjoyed pissing me off. Normally, I could schmooze Deck’s men—actually, any man—but Vic was like a beetle with a hard outer shell that refused to crack under pressure. I realised why Deck had chosen him to stay with me this week.My parents had called wanting to go to the cemetery together, but really I couldn’t deal with Mom coddling and Dad pitying me. This was one day of the year I let the demons in and became who I hated, who I hid from.
I needed to be on my game because what I had to do was not something Deck could ever find out about, and pit-bull Vic was making that really difficult.
He’d slept on the couch all week which left no option for the front door escape last night. I’d already tried the pathetic excuse ‘going to the store for some milk’ early this morning. Vic actually rolled his eyes, which looked real funny for a six-foot guy built like a friggin’ Mack truck. It even got a smirk out of him. I wasn’t sure if it was because he thought it was funny or because he was getting ready to lock me in the closet.