Obsessed (The Protectors #13) - Sloane Kennedy Page 0,82

he responded.

"You should eat something."

"Should I?" Sam asked. The irritation was clear in his voice.

"I can make something else," I offered.

"No thanks," Sam muttered and then he was slamming the refrigerator door shut. I resisted the urge to grab him as he moved past me again.

"Sam, I know this is tough, but I'm sure it'll be over soon," I said as I turned around to watch him.

"Well good, as long as you’re sure," Sam drawled.

It was on the tip of my tongue to call him out for his childish behavior, but then I remembered everything he'd given up because of me—because I hadn't been up front with him about myself. And because I'd been the one who’d brought this threat into his life. I dropped my eyes and went back to draining the already drained pasta.

"I'll leave you a plate in the microwave in case you change your mind," I offered. I picked up the colander full of pasta but when I went to pour it into a bowl, Sam was there. He snatched the colander out of my hand and flung it across the room, sending pasta flying.

"I don't want any fucking pasta!" he snapped. "I want this to be over! I want to know that my kids are safe. I want to know that my son is sleeping soundly in his own bed! I want—"

Sam's tirade was interrupted by the kitchen door being thrown open. I automatically stepped in front of Sam and drew my gun. I drew in a heavy breath when I realized it was one of Ronan's men. As soon as he saw me and Sam, he lowered his own gun and muttered, "Everything okay in here? I heard a noise."

"I dropped some pasta," I said. "Everything's fine."

The man glanced at the pasta, which was sticking to the opposite wall of the kitchen, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he turned around and hurried back outside. When I turned myself, I saw that Sam was picking pasta up off the floor.

I knelt down next to him. "I'm sorry, Sam, I know this has been tough. I know you miss Ryan and Elliot and I know you want your regular life back."

I'd hoped my words would help calm him, but they only seemed to be making things worse because he dropped the colander back on the ground and covered his eyes with his hand. "What about you, Matias? Will I get you back?" he asked, his voice thick with tears.

"What do you mean? I'm right here."

"Nothing," he said with a shake of his head. “Nothing. I'm sorry."

I was left more confused than ever as Sam walked out of the kitchen like nothing had happened.

What had he been talking about? I was up and following him before I even realized what I was doing. I caught myself just as I reached the hallway leading to his room. I wanted to demand that he explain himself to me, but I couldn't risk upsetting him any further.

I returned to the kitchen and began cleaning up the pasta, but my frustration and anger got the best of me, and before I knew it, I was striding toward his room. He wasn't in it, but the closed bathroom door told me where he was. I tried the knob but found that it was locked. I told myself to just let it go and return to the kitchen, but I couldn't get Sam's voice out of my head.

Will I get you back?

"Sam, open the door."

"I'm fine, Matias. Just leave me alone, okay?"

It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. I looked down at the knob and realized it would take just seconds to pick, but I didn't even have the patience to last those few seconds. I wanted answers now. I no longer cared what that said about me or what kind of damage it would do to the thin strands of our relationship.

I wanted answers and I wanted him.

With that in mind, I put my hand on the doorknob and then threw all my weight against the wood. Thankfully, it wasn't a very sturdy door to begin with, so it gave under the first try. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting to find when I forced the door open, but the sight of Sam sitting naked in the slowly filling bathtub was not at the top of the list.

I expected him to rail at me or ask me what the hell was going on, but he just sat there and