More Than Protect You (More Than Words #6.5) - Shayla Black Page 0,11
important to me right now.”
“How is she paying you? She drained what little savings she had trying to pay lawyers and take care of Oliver.”
“Unless you’d like to pay me, I don’t think that’s any of your business. She and I will work it out.” Hopefully. I should be concerned that she might be broke, but right now I’m more annoyed that her brother won’t back off.
“So you haven’t talked money yet?” His tone suggests he doesn’t think I’m very smart for letting that slide.
“Getting her to a location where the crazy mob couldn’t find her was a tad more important in the moment. Or did you want me to stand out in the open with her where any murderer could end her while we worked out a payment plan?”
“Your sarcasm isn’t helpful.”
“Your assholery isn’t, either.”
He grunts, but that’s an improvement over the blow-up I expected. “I want to talk to my sister again.”
I turn to peek through the glass of the door to find Amanda staring out the window of the parking lot. She stands unmoving, brittle, chin lifted. Beautiful…but so damn sad. A tear rolls down her cheek.
Why does that fucking bother me?
“She’s not up for that right now since you made her cry. Maybe when she’s done sobbing she’ll feel like talking to you, but—”
“She’s crying?” He huffs. “Fuck.”
“You were an absolute bastard. What did you expect?”
“I didn’t mean to upset her. It’s just… The last twenty-four hours have been a bitch. I’ve been worried I’m going to lose my unborn baby. Now I’m terrified for my little sister. I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten. My anxiety level is…”
Huge, I get it. But he’s trying to excuse his behavior to me, and I’m not buying it. “You’ve got a lot going on. Worry about your wife. Make sure she keeps that baby. I’ll focus on Amanda. When we get settled, I’ll text you my number. You can contact me for status updates. But I’ve got this. I’ll neutralize the threat so she can live another day and figure out what she’s looking for in life and why.”
“And what if she decides she wants you to be her next ‘daddy’?”
We’re both adults, and that would be between us. “If you can keep your snark to yourself, you can talk to her. If not, fuck off.”
“You’re already taking care of her. You realize that, don’t you?”
I grimace because he’s right. This is the “overbearing” side of me that Ellie despised. “What’s it going to be?”
He sighs. “I want to talk to her one more time.”
“If she starts crying again, you’re done.”
“She’s already got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” Stephen laughs. “Oh, buddy… You’re fucked.”
Chapter Three
I refuse to justify Stephen’s shit with a reply. Instead, I push the balcony door open. Amanda whirls to me.
“He wants to talk to you again.” I hold the phone in her direction. “Are you up for it?”
Reluctantly, she nods. Over the next few minutes, Amanda and her brother manage to have a mostly civil conversation. I do my best not to eavesdrop as I pack, but even if I can’t hear Stephen’s words, it’s impossible to miss his persuasive tone. She darts quick glances in my direction and answers in monosyllables.
They’re talking about me. Nifty. I don’t care as long as he’s not taking swipes at Amanda and she’s not crying.
Finally, she hangs up and pockets her phone, then turns to me with a frown. “What did you say to him?”
I can’t tell whether she’s angry or shocked. “What I needed to so he’d back the hell off.”
Amanda cocks her head. “Stephen has a strong personality, and most people cave when he confronts them. Thank you.”
She’s happy? “You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry you found yourself in the middle of our argument.”
Butted in, more like. I shouldn’t have. And I don’t want to question why seeing her upset bothered me so much. “It’s fine.” I toss the last few items into my duffel, then pick up my gun case and turn to her again. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as I secure my luggage in the trunk next to hers, I scan the parking lot, looking for trouble. Thankfully, I don’t see any—yet. But it’s coming. I feel it.
After a quick duck inside, I see Amanda sitting on the edge of the bed, ruffling her sleeping son’s hair. “What do we do now?”
“Find a place to lie low. I’m hoping Trace comes through with a location soon. I’ve barely been on the island for a