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Though I understood that to a point, I didn’t like it. And I definitely didn’t deserve this cold detachment, most especially after what had just happened.
“Maggie.” Rowan opened my passenger door for her.
I stayed rooted in place. As did Maggie. Rowan’s jaw twitched as Maggie and I ignored his commands.
There was a warm satisfaction in knowing his excellently trained pooch was now siding firmly with me.
Girl power, baby.
I crossed my arms in front of me. “I get you’re a big bad alpha who has… some type of feelings for me,” I explained lamely. “I get that you just saw me almost getting hit in the parking lot, and you’re mad about that. But I was just about hit in a parking lot. Me.” I jabbed my own finger to my chest. “And it is not on me to tiptoe around you because you can’t regulate your anger. And it’s definitely not okay to take that anger out on me.”
I was almost yelling by the end of that little tirade.
Thankfully, Lori, Ronnie, her brothers, and the rest of the audience that had accumulated were now gone.
Still, I didn’t really want to be in the parking lot, yelling at the guy who wasn’t even my boyfriend.
I wasn’t a person who yelled. Or even raised her voice. Growing up, I’d understood that the best way for me to exist was to be quiet, almost invisible. And even after I got out of my mother’s house, I hadn’t been able to shake that. Plus, yelling at a man was risky. Dangerous. You could never know how a man might punish a woman for losing her temper.
But for once, my usually ironclad self-preservation shattered. That and despite how pissed I was with Rowan right then, he had made me feel safe enough to yell at him.
My words penetrated. I watched them go through the mask, watched his eyes flash with something resembling shame or regret. But he didn’t shed all of his fury. Not even a little.
He stepped forward so he was close to me but not touching. His feet were splayed, his posture tense. He looked like a man who was standing his ground for battle.
“Ronnie Cockran is a piece of shit. And a moron,” Rowan seethed. “And I would usually describe him as a harmless piece of shit. Except when you get in his face and show him what a moron he really is.” When his eyes slid down my body then back up, I was surprised my clothes didn’t catch fire. And not in that sultry way he’d stared at me this morning. No, in a way that was full of fury. “Especially when you’re five foot nothing, and you’re a fuckin’ woman.”
Though I was shaken, I was nowhere near shaken enough to let him get away with that.
“What the heck does me being a woman have to do with anything?” I demanded, hands on my hips.
His fury did not dissipate, but his brow twitched, with either more amusement or anger, I couldn’t tell. And I didn’t really care at that point.
“Not sayin’ that because I think women are somehow less than men.” His words were clipped. “In fact, I am of the firm opinion that women are better than men in every way, and that had I not stepped in, you could’ve taken him.” He folded his arms so we were both in battle stances. “Which is why he’s even more dangerous. He was standin’ there, trying to act like a man by threatening a woman. His woman.” His eyes were stormy. “Then he threatened my fuckin’ woman. And he’s been layin’ hands on an innocent girl. So now he has to die.”
My eyes bugged out.
When anyone else in my life made death threats, I didn’t take them seriously. Fiona threatened the lives of people daily, as did Tina. For various reasons. From ordering some overly complicated coffee or looking at her wife too long—Tina—or for walking around with their phone on speaker—Fiona. Not once had I been seriously concerned about them following through on such threats. Because though both women could be scary and dangerous in equal parts, I didn’t think either of them were capable of murder. Although Tina was pretty possessive over her wife, so I couldn’t completely rule her out.
But that was her wife. They’d been married for years, loved each other fiercely. Committing murder in her defense or to avenge her would’ve made sense.
Rowan and I weren’t married. We were loosely dating—if that’s what you could call it. And that technically wasn’t even true because we hadn’t even had our first date yet. We’d only just consummated this thing between us this morning, if you counted kissing as consummation.
Sure, I might’ve had an infatuation with him that could’ve maybe been described as love. But of course, I was insane.
