The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,5

hands under my legs to keep from wringing them. “Do you need me to do something?”

His head cocked curiously. “Like what?”

“I don’t know…try to stop the blood?” Anything to get your hands on him, right, Lou?

“It’s just a graze. Looks worse than it is.”

“Oh.”

“You were pretty quick.” It almost sounded like he was in awe.

“A lot of good it did.” I felt my cheeks heat at the worry in my voice.

Especially when he said, “I’ll be fine.” His tone was gentle and assuring. A far cry from the way he’d spoken to me when we met.

I simply nodded, but it didn’t stop the ache in my chest. I barely knew this kid. And he was a kid albeit a dangerous gun-toting one who someone clearly wanted dead.

“Why were those guys after you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he spat. I wasn’t buying it for a second, though.

“If we’re going to be friends,” I said with more confidence than I felt, “we can’t lie to each other.”

He glanced at me then through wide eyes. “Who says I want to be your friend?”

“I saved your life. You’ve yet to return the favor, so until the debt is paid, you’re stuck with me.”

“Or I could just kill you right now and be done with you.” His gaze never strayed from the road as he threatened me for the third time in half an hour.

“But you won’t,” I said confidently, and I felt my heart warm in confirmation. I had no idea how I could be so trusting after what I’d just witnessed, but I knew nothing Wren said or did would make me believe that he would ever hurt me.

I’d had just about enough of my hormones for one night.

This time, his gaze lingered when he looked my way. “You think I’m a good guy?”

I studied him long and hard. Beads of sweat trickled from his hairline, over his sculpted cheek, and down his clenched jawline. He was clearly in pain but was too macho to admit it. “I think you’re not as bad as you think.”

He suddenly seemed uncomfortable and looked away. “Jesus, you’re stupid,” he spat. “And naïve.”

I forced a laugh to hide the feeling of being punched in the gut. “Nice try, but I’m not going to cry and run the other way because you hurt my feelings.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, and I found myself hiding a smile. The longer we talked, the more his attitude seemed adorable rather than intimidating. A few minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of a two-story brick home. The small front yard was overcome by a trampoline, a big wheel, a pink bike with training wheels, and other toys.

“Who lives here?” Had he brought me home? Did he have siblings? Would his mom like me? I covertly ran my fingers through my hair to straighten it.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“You don’t think I should? I met you five minutes ago.”

“It’s been longer than that,” he smartly retorted before hopping out.

I rolled my eyes before following him to the door. I waited quietly although nervously as he knocked rather obnoxiously.

“They could be sleeping.”

“So?” He knocked again even louder.

Seconds later, the door was whipped open, and a hulking man with a bald head and a scowl that rivaled Wren’s stood on the threshold with a gun in one hand and a cigar in the other. I took small steps back until I was hovering behind Wren and clutching his jacket lightly in my fist. Dude looked like Colonel Kurtz from Apocalypse Now.

“What the fuck do you want, Harlan? It’s late. My kids are sleeping.”

“Those gremlins you call children aren’t sleeping, you dense fuck. I bet anything Georgia is sneaking cookies out of the kitchen right now.”

Sure enough, a little girl sporting pigtails and Minnie Mouse pajamas ran from the kitchen with a fist full of crumbled cookies.

I was prepared for the man to shoot us both right then and there. Instead, he turned and shouted at his giggling daughter to go to bed as she ran up the stairs. He then walked away without inviting us in, and when Wren moved to follow him, I quickly released him. I didn’t get a chance to say “I’ll wait in the car” before he grabbed my wrist and dragged me through the open door.

“Who’s the girl?” the colonel questioned as he plopped onto the couch, reaching for the remote.

“No fucking clue,” Wren answered.

“And you brought her to my home?” he roared. I could have sworn I heard the plastic