Fractured Things - Samantha Lovelock Page 0,16

through the stale air. “I am your worst fucking nightmare because you’ll never see me coming.”

Tap.

“Even if they come back to this hovel for some unknown reason, you will never go near either of them again. You see them on the street, and you walk in the other fucking direction. They do not exist in your perverted little world. Do you understand?”

Tap.

“ANSWER ME!” Poe’s voice rises to a menacing level.

Pulling myself up to a kneeling position, I watch Todd nod vigorously. He seems unable to form words with his eyes trained on the tattoo snaking up Poe’s muscular exposed forearm. Whether it's from fear of being pummeled or from being on the receiving end of a frying pan upside the head, I can’t be sure.

“Problem, son?” Mr. Halliday’s smooth, unruffled tone floats down the hall as he emerges from the stairwell.

“Nope, not at all. We have an understanding, don’t we, shitstain?” Poe must accept the incoherent babbling coming from the dirty, bloody human crumpled on the floor beside him as an agreement and gets fluidly to his feet.

“I think it's time we leave. Get the girls and their bags so we can load up the car,” Mr. Halliday says, nodding his head in my direction before pulling out his phone and taking up a spot in the hall where he can keep an eye on the lump of Todd.

Coming back into my unit and crossing to stand next to me, Poe extends his hand. Ignoring his offer of help up, I push myself to my feet and adjust my clothes.

Sunday is colorfully recounting what happened before the guys got upstairs, gesturing wildly. A frustrated Payne is trying to get her to sit down so he can examine the bump on the top of her head left behind by the window frame.

Glancing at Poe, I catch the corners of his mouth twitching.

“What the hell are you grinning at?” My snark only makes his smile more expansive, which makes me more annoyed. “Something funny, dick?”

“We’ve already had this conversation, Star. The only dick in the room is the one in my pants, remember?” He answers smoothly, and I want to laugh and punch him in equal parts. Settling instead for shooting him a dirty look, I move to walk by him, but he reaches out and pulls me into a tight hug, tucking my head under his chin.

“Hey, I can’t help it. Imagining the look on that douchebag Todd’s face when he realized he was getting his ass handed to him by two girls brings me great joy.” He chuckles. “It must have been priceless.” Lowering his head, he buries his face in my hair and speaks softly. “You’re a tough one, Stella Bradleigh, and I’m grateful for that. No more scrapping though, okay? Thank you for proving once again you can take care of yourself, but you’ll give me a heart attack before I hit my twenties if you keep this up.” His voice rumbles warmly where my ear presses against his chest, and his familiar scent wraps around me like a cozy blanket.

I could stand here in the middle of this shithole forever, as long as he was standing with me.

Shocked as shit by my thoughts of doing anything with anybody forever, I awkwardly pull out of his embrace with a short, nervous laugh.

“What you should be thankful for is Sunday. She’s the heroine in this story. Jumped right on his back and rode him like a pissed off bull.” I wink in her direction.

“Damn right, I did! Nasty fucker.” A wince mars her lovely features as her outburst causes the bag of frozen vegetables retrieved from my freezer and now balanced on the top of her head to shift. Payne catches it before it can slide off, holding it in place for her as she leans back against his chest.

“Okay, ladies, is this all of your shit?” Poe asks, gesturing to the three duffel bags and my backpack sitting on the bed.

“Uh, yeah, but I need to do a garbage run, so let me check the fridge. And maybe I should just wash these real fast.” I know I’m stalling as I busy myself in the kitchen, shifting dirty plates and glasses and utensils around on the small counter for no good reason.

“Obvious points for being badass ball-busting chicks,” Payne quips from his position on the couch, “but can we get the hell out of here now, please?” The impatience is thick in his voice, and I know a