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“And you have the fucking balls to question why I’m here?”
“Rhys, calm down?—”
“Calm down? Let’s go upstairs so you can see what the fuck I saw!” Rhys snatched Jordan by her arm and turned to lead her upstairs.
Her sharp gasp and wince caused him to pause. He glanced down at her arm and released it. Her hand automatically went to the area and rubbed it. Rhys focused on the skin and saw the darkening area. He hadn’t grabbed her that hard—so some other fucker had hurt her…
He ran a shaky hand over his mouth before meeting her eyes. “What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing,” she muttered.
She tried to brush past him. He allowed her to have some leeway before he took her by her hand and stopped her. She spun around and faced him but didn’t try to shake his hand off hers.
“Don’t do this,” he said, a deadly calm taking over him. Even though there was a new war raging inside him. On one hand he wanted to take care of her and soothe her aches. The other side was ready to bust out of the house and go after whoever had dared put their hand on her.
Badge be damned.
“Do what?” she said softly. Her big brown eyes grew wide. She bit her lip and looked away from him. It wasn’t often that Jordan completely let her guard down, and right now, she was completely vulnerable.
He pulled her toward him and slid his hand along her jawline and cupped her cheek. She leaned into his palm while her eyes fluttered closed.
“Shut me out. Don’t do that, Jordan. You mean so much to me,” he murmured. He closed the gap between them and brushed his fingers along the bruise on her bicep. A shudder rippled through her. Whoever had laid a finger on her was going to pay for it. He made a promise right then and there. “Who did this?”
She shook her head and inhaled a shaky breath. “I can’t?—”
“Tell. Me,” he growled. He forced her head back so he could look her in the eye.
She blinked and met his gaze. He didn’t like what he saw there.
Fear.
“Rhys, I know you want to help me, but you can’t. You need to stay?—”
“Don’t say it,” he rasped. He reached up and cupped both of her cheeks to hold her in place. The words he knew she was about to say he couldn’t hear. It was as if someone had hit him in the solar plexus just to think about it. “Whatever—whoever—it is, we will deal with them together. You got me, Jordan. You. Are. Not. Alone.”
Jordan grew still and, in that moment, he didn’t feel her chest rise or fall from breathing. She studied him, and he hoped she saw that he meant every word. She was not alone. He didn’t care what they would be up against. He would be there for her.
Tears formed in her eyes. Her hands came to rest on his. She blinked, and the liquid fell onto her skin and rolled onto his hands. Jordan was a woman who never allowed anyone to see her deepest emotions. It worried him something fierce that whatever it was made her cry. For that alone, he was ready to go to war for her. Right whatever wrongs was done against her, her family, or even her damn dog that had died when she was nine.
“Rhys, I love you so much.” She exhaled. Her fingers stroked his skin slowly.
Not wanting her to finish any thoughts, he leaned own and captured her lips. He gathered her to him, not allowing her to draw away. Not that she tried. Jordan pushed closer to him, her lips falling open to allow him to command the kiss. He poured all of his emotions into it. He didn’t want there to be any doubt in her mind about how he felt for her.
Jordan’s arms came up and wrapped around his neck. His hands slid down her sides and rested on her bottom, trapping her to him. He slowly pulled back away from her and rested his forehead on hers.
“Tell me everything.” Rhys met Jordan’s eyes.
She bit her plump lips before she jerked her head in a nod. She released him and took him by the hand and led him to the living room. He sat on the couch, his heart rate slowly decreasing. Jordan moved to sit next to him, but he tugged her onto his lap. She didn’t belong anywhere but there. She settled down on him and wrapped an arm around his neck. She angled her body to where she could look him in the eyes.
“It’s Bravon. He’s out of prison.”
Rhys tried to stay calm while he listened to Jordan recap the telephone call from her attorney, her initials painted in blood at the dead gangster’s house, to her coming home and finding her bedroom destroyed.
“You should have called me immediately,” Rhys snapped when she got to the part about the note on the wall. The level of his anger was rising. His left hand balled into a fist. He wanted to hit something or someone. Preferably Bravon Huff.
“I can handle myself, Rhys,” Jordan said. She lowered her head and sighed after watching him roll his eyes. “At least I thought I could. When I got to the park, I knew I was in over my head and I should have called someone. I should have called you.”
Rhys relaxed slightly at her words. He understood what had happened back in Atlanta, but one of these days Jordan was going to realize that she was no longerinAtlanta. Her team here in Columbia would have her back. Why didn’t she realize it? Even Rhys knew how close their team was and how they would go to the ends of the earth for each other.
