Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T #1)(34)

Fucking great.

When he hangs up, he turns his hard gaze back to me and asks, “You touch anything?”

“No, I didn’t. And I wish you didn’t call it in, Hetch.” I watch as he pockets his phone, and moves closer to me.

“Yeah, well, like we’ve already established, we don’t seem to get what we want when it comes to each other, so you’re just going to have to deal.” He stops a whisper's breath from me, getting up in my space.

“Hetch, I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Why did you run?” He ignores my rebuff, going right for the money shot.

“Hetch.” I pause, unsure what I’m going to say. Why did I run? It’s the same question I’ve been asking myself the last two days.

“Liberty, answer the question.”

“I needed a few days, that’s all. It’s no big deal,” I lie, knowing full well it’s a big deal. I ran because as much as I hate to admit it, his rejection stung more than the grazing on my face.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna let your lie slide because I have a unit coming here any minute, but the moment they’re out of here, we’re talking, then you’re packing a bag, and I’m taking you back to Jack and Connie’s.” He uses my parents’ first names, shocking me into a fit of rage. Jack and Connie? He thinks he’s on first name basis with my parents. I don’t think so, buddy.

“Hetch, I’m not even going to discuss how pissed I am that you know my parents' names. Nor am I going to stay with them.” I shut the idea down right away. Jesus, they barely survived the hospital visit. Finding out these guys may have been in my place will well and truly push them over.

“Liberty, someone broke into your place.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I’m not going to cower away from this.”

“You’re not cowering away. You’re being smart and sorting out a game plan.”

“I don’t need a game plan, Hetch. And I’m not leaving.”

“Jesus, Liberty. You’re the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met. This gang is dangerous. You think they're playing? They know where you work. They know where you live. Will you take this seriously?”

“I am, dammit,” I snap, hating that he has to break me down. “I’m not trying to be difficult. My parents don’t need the extra stress.”

“Then I’ll stay here with you again,” he challenges, thinking it’s going to sway me.

“Are you crazy? I don’t need a babysitter and I sure as hell don’t need a replay of the other night.”

“Then go pack your bag.”

“Hetch.” My hands move to my hips, assuming the position as my father would call it.

“Liberty,”

“Hetch.”

“Liberty.’

“No.” I break the pattern, hoping to throw him off.

“Yes.” It doesn’t work.

“I’m not having sex with you.” I try again, but I think the only one thrown off is me.

“You think this is what this is about? Liberty, if I wanted to f*ck you, I would have f*cked you the other night.” The blow hurts more than I expect it to.

If I wanted to f*ck you, I would have the other night.

“You know what, you’re an ass.”

“And you have a great ass. Quit getting those sexy panties of yours in a twist. I didn’t say I didn’t want to f*ck you—”

“I’m fine on my own, Hetch.” I cut him off, not wanting to hear the rest of what he has to say.

“I know you think you’re fine, but you still have a busted lock, and at this time of night, you’re not getting the super out here to fix it, so you’re stuck with me. Now quit overthinking it and let this happen,” he orders in his special kind of way. Where I want to punch him yet bow down to him at the same time.

“You know what, whatever.” I roll my eyes and spin on my heel.

I’m learning fast that fighting with Hetch is exhausting, so instead of going back and forth any longer, I forfeit, knowing full well this isn’t going to end well.

Ugghh, stupid man.





Eleven





Hetch





Sterling: So you’re staying at the neighbor’s…



The text comes in from Sterling. Lighting Liberty’s darkened living room.



Me: Detective Bailey’s gossiping is worse than a f*cking woman's.



I type back, not in the least bit surprised the gossip has already started down at the station. As soon as Detective Bailey and his partner, Detective Sanchez, rocked up to take Liberty’s statement and dust for prints, I knew they would draw their own conclusions.

Assholes.



Sterling: Dangerous ground there. Hook, line and sinker.



Sterling types back, but this time I ignore it. He can think what he likes. The last thing I need is to feed him with more ammunition because maybe he’s right. I may be hooked. More hooked than I’ve been hooked before and yeah, it f*cking scares me but f*ck if I can’t stop thinking about her. Ever since I woke up on her sofa, note on chest, I haven’t stopped thinking about her or her under me, her sweet * glistening for me. I know I shouldn’t want her as much as I do, shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of anything more, but the more I try to force myself to stay away, or the more she tries to stay away from me, the more I want her.