Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(56)

So she kept saying. Maybe she thought she didn’t regret it, but she didn’t usually f*ck killers like me. If Heidi had no regrets, she wouldn’t be acting as if I had the plague right now. “If you say so.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line. She did that when she was irritated with me, which was almost all the time. I tried to tamp down my own irritation. “I do. I’m just . . . I’m scared.”

Ah. I hadn’t expected that. But she hadn’t shown much fear up until now, so I guess it was only a matter of time till it hit her. I ran my knuckles over her cheekbone. “You’re safe as long as you’re here, or with me.”

“I’m not worried about my safety.” She pursed her lips. “I’m worried about yours.”

I blinked. People didn’t worry about me. “What? Why?”

“Because your brother is trying to kill you. I know you’re the badass criminal with no regard for human life, but it’s your brother. I don’t think you’d be able to kill him like it’s no big deal.” She locked gazes with me. “And that scares me, because from what I’ve heard . . . your brother is that type of guy.”

Heidi didn’t think I could kill him? She was wrong. Dead wrong. It wasn’t the first time she’d made assumptions about me, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “I’m that type of guy, too. When it comes to dying or living, I’ll choose life every time.”

“I didn’t say that you wouldn’t do what had to be done.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I just meant you’re going to do everything in your power to avoid it, and that might be your downfall . . . because he won’t.”

Jesus Christ. I’d killed men before, and I didn’t lose any sleep over most of them. But Chris and Heidi seemed to think that my reluctance to gun down my little brother was a character flaw. I didn’t want to kill my brother. Why was that a bad thing?

What the hell did they want from me?

I let go of her and stepped back, anger pumping through my veins. “If you want me to be the type of man who can kill family without exploring other options first, well, then it’s good that last night was just sex.”

“No.” She paled. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

I rested my hand on my gun. “If Scotty doesn’t leave me any choice, I’ll do what I have to. But, no, I don’t particularly want to put a bullet in the brain of the kid I used to tuck in at night. I don’t want to walk away from a broken body that used to be a boy who was captain of his little league team, and just chalk him up as another enemy eliminated. I don’t want to believe that my baby brother hates me enough to plan my execution. But, what, you think I should just write him off now? Is that what I should do?”

She shook her head. “N-no, of course not. I’d never want you to kill anyone. That’s the problem. I don’t want you to kill him. I can’t . . . you can’t . . .”

And just like that, I understood what this was about. She knew how this would likely end—even if I wasn’t ready to accept it yet—and she was terrified of the fact that she’d f*cked a man who would kill his own brother to survive. She was ashamed.

Of me. Of us.

I’d had my share of women like her in my life, the ones who liked to take a walk on the wild side and blame me for it afterward. They’d sit there and wonder how I’d made them forget their principles and how I’d convinced them to forget that I was a monster.

But I hadn’t thought she was one of them.

I’d given her plenty of chances to walk away, but she’d agreed to stay last night. She’d told me she wanted me. Last night, during her passionate response, as the chemistry bubbled between us, it felt like I’d finally found the place I belonged.

What an idiot.

I laughed, loud and hard, and tossed my keys on the table. “Yeah, of course not. Because that would make me a murderer. And good girls like you aren’t supposed to f*ck murderers, are they?”

Her cheeks went red. “What? Last night has nothing to do with this!”

I laughed again, anger at this whole situation making me bitter. Heidi wasn’t doing anything to me that hadn’t been done to me thousands of times before. The fault was mine for allowing myself to believe she was different. “Yeah. Sure it’s not, darlin’. Keep telling yourself that, if that’s what it takes to make you feel better.”

Fisting her hands, she took a step toward me, her nostrils flared. “Stop being such a jackass.”

“Newsflash, darlin’,” I drawled. “I am a jackass. Always have been.”

She shook her head. “Not to me, you’re not.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I was trying to be nice to you, and look what that got me. With you on the verge of tears just because you f*cked me last night.” I held my hands out to my sides. “We all know that it’s all fine and dandy to have a guy like me protecting you, but when it comes to the reality of what I do, you can’t handle it. And now you wish you’d never let me touch you. Admit it.”

She shoved my shoulders. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You have no idea what I’m thinking, or how I feel about you.”

“Ah, but I do. You’re just like the rest of them.” I caught her wrists and hauled her against my chest. She squirmed but didn’t break free. “You fool yourself into thinking that I’m this guy who is soft, caring, and horribly misunderstood. It’s why you let me f*ck you. You saw the ‘good’ in me when it was convenient for you to do so. Now, in the light of day, it’s a lot harder to see, isn’t it?”