Forged in Desire (The Protectors #1)(13)
“Look,” he finally said, deciding he’d rattled her enough. “Let’s go back to the table and sit down. You ask your questions and I’ll decide if I want to answer them.” His tone was deliberately clipped, letting her know up front what to expect.
He watched as she angrily strode back over to the table. If she’d known how much he appreciated seeing her backside just now, she wouldn’t have done that. He followed her to the table and sat down. “Okay, Margo. Let’s get it out. What are your questions?” Before she could open her mouth, he added, “And ask nicely.”
She glared at him while adjusting in her seat, resting her hands beneath her chin with her fingers entwined. Why did he find her so damn sexy? So incredibly desirable. He was a glutton for punishment even thinking that way.
“First of all, I want to know what’s going on. Here at my house? With my phone?”
He leaned back in his chair. That question was easy enough. “Bruce Townsend is a man-wonder, a technology whiz. He’s in hot demand and usually works with an exclusive clientele. Summers Security has a good relationship with him, and he’s been hired to install extra security in and around your home.”
“Like tampering with my phones?”
“Yes. All your phones—house, cell or otherwise—are now linked to mine. I can listen in to all your conversations.”
“And what if it’s a conversation I don’t want you to listen to?”
He held her gaze. “If you happen to get one of those, then I’ll get off the line to give you the privacy you need.”
He could tell from her mutinous expression she didn’t like it, so he said, “Relax. If Scotty calls you, I promise not to listen in.”
Her frown deepened. “His name is Scott, and he won’t be calling me. I told him not to ever again.”
Striker lifted a brow. “Oh? Is that the way it is? You accept his flowers but not his calls?” He shook his head. “Tsk-tsk. Margo, don’t you know that’s no way to treat a man?”
Her eyes filled with anger. “How I treat Scott is no concern of yours,” she said in a loud voice.
“I’ve warned you about my eardrums. And as far as your ex-boyfriend goes, if he decides to get dramatic, then it becomes my concern. Need I remind you that you’re the one who claims he has a tendency to get melodramatic? Okay, let’s move on. Next question.”
She got quiet. For a minute he wondered if she would even bother asking him anything else since it was apparent that she was pissed off with him now. But he should have known her silence wouldn’t last. “I want to know about you, Striker.”
He held her gaze. “All you need to know is that I am capable of protecting you.”
She leaned in closer to him, her eyes still filled with anger. “You’re wrong. That’s not all I need to know. You will be here with me morning, noon and night. Underfoot. Listening to me breathe. Sharing meals with me. Risking your life for mine. So just knowing you’re capable of keeping me alive is not all I need to know.”
She paused a minute and said, “Earlier you said you’d been incarcerated for manslaughter. I need to know who you killed and why.”
As far as Striker was concerned, she didn’t need to know a damn thing. Drawing in a strained breath, he then decided that maybe she did. How would she handle it if he were to tell her? Well, he was about to find out. Still holding her gaze, he said, “I killed a cop.”
He saw her throat move. Heard her stricken inhalation. “A cop?”
“Yes, a cop.”
He could see the question in the depths of her honey-brown eyes. Desperation to know why he’d done such a thing was gnawing at her. He could feel it and decided to help her out. “Go ahead and ask.”
She nervously licked her lips and he tried not to concentrate on the movement of her tongue. Not just the movement of her tongue but her tongue, period. She took him up on his offer. Not that he’d thought she wouldn’t.
“Why, Striker?”
Hearing her question didn’t do him in as much as hearing her say his name. Breathing deeply, he said, “I killed him because he raped my sibling.”
Margo’s stunned gasp filled the room, echoed off the walls. She threw her hand to her throat in disbelief and shock. “Oh my God! He raped your sister?”
Pain from years ago resurfaced, began surrounding Striker in a degree of agony he hadn’t felt in some time. “I don’t have a sister. It was my baby brother. Wade was thirteen and the bastard raped him.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THROUGH THE FOG of her traumatized mind, Margo was aware of Striker gathering the plates from the table before walking into the kitchen. She sat there in a daze. Totally stunned. Horrified beyond belief.
A police officer had raped Striker’s thirteen-year-old brother and Striker had killed him. Needing more answers and hoping he would give them to her, she slowly stood and strode after him.
Margo found Striker putting the dishes in the sink. She stood in the doorway not saying anything but watching him. She knew she’d lived a pampered life with private schools, a household full of servants and chauffeurs to take her wherever she wanted to go. But she had a feeling Striker and his family hadn’t had such luxuries. She could only wonder about his childhood. His teen years. His life before he’d been sent to prison and the life he had now.