Anything He Wants: The Betrayal(2)



“Not good enough.” Jeremiah pressed the gun harder against his brother’s temple, and Lucas closed his eyes.

“No!” I blurted out, heart racing. I moved around until I was beside the two men. “He came to help us, Jeremiah. He knows who’s after you, don’t kill him!”

The billionaire didn’t look at me but I saw the gun tremble against Lucas’s head. The bodyguards near the door lowered their own weapons but didn’t move to help, leaving the brothers alone. My throat froze, suddenly terrified what I was about to witness, then Jeremiah lowered his gun. He grabbed Lucas’s arm and twisted it behind the other man’s back, and only then did the bodyguards move in. “Take him to the house,” Jeremiah said, voice low and tight.

The bodyguards took Lucas from Jeremiah, snapping a set of handcuffs around his wrists. The older brother didn’t put up a fight, seemingly content with the way things were going, but the guards still clustered around him as if he was dangerous. I moved to follow them when suddenly a hand grabbed my arm, bringing me up short. “Not so fast,” I heard Jeremiah growl.

I thought that I had seen him angry before, but I’d never seen him like this. There was real fury in his eyes, directed at me, and I knew I had messed up royally. “Jeremiah,” I said, trying to apologize, only to cut myself short when I saw his free hand ball up into a fist.

“Do you know what I’ve done to protect you?” Gone was the total control I had always seen, in its place was a ferocity that looked alien on his face. When I tried to move, the hand around my arm tightened and I tensed, stopping all movement.

“The girl didn’t know I was here,” Lucas said from across the room. His rapt gaze watched our confrontation keenly. I became aware that the guards were also watching us, having paused in the doorway, but again made no move to help.

“I said, take him to the house!” Jeremiah roared, and I watched in disappointment as the guards shuffled out through the door and back toward the house, leaving me alone with Jeremiah.

I tried to stay calm, even though the heat I felt from him was overwhelming. When the door clicked closed he released my arm, but as I moved away he followed my retreat, stalking me across the room. My hip finally bumped up against a table, then I backed into a wall with no other means of escape. He towered over me, fists clenched at his side, and I tried to quell the sudden misgivings in my chest. “Jeremiah, I’m…”

“Do you realize how much danger you’re in?” Jeremiah’s hands were balled into fists but his arms remained at his side. A scowl twisted his face but he didn’t move a muscle to touch me. “Why did you leave the house?”

“Because the assassin is after you, not me?” I hadn’t meant for the statement to be a question, and from the look on Jeremiah’s face it was the wrong answer anyway. “Look, I’m really sor—”

I was pinned to the wall suddenly, the hands on my shoulders pressing me back against the wood. Squeaking in surprise, I turned wide eyes on Jeremiah and saw him blink, a small frown furrowing his brow. The anger was still in his voice however as he said, “You saw his face at the hotel. Do you have any idea what that means to a man who lives his life in the shadows?”

I’m sorry, I wanted to say, but Jeremiah’s dark look quelled my courage to speak. The hands on my shoulders trembled, Jeremiah’s beautiful face contorting in his struggle for control. He bowed his head, and to my surprise laid his forehead against mine.

“You could have been killed,” he rasped, the words piercing my heart. “I’ve done everything I can to keep you safe, gone to people I swore I’d never contact again—all for you. Why did you leave the house?”

Heart twisting, I raised my hand to cup his face but he lifted his head, turning a suspicious gaze on me. “Did you know my brother was here?”

I drew back, stung by the accusation. “Of course I didn’t.” Frustration bubbled up at his disbelieving look. “I don’t know anything about what’s going on, thanks to you,” I snapped, glaring at him. I slapped his chest in frustration, the movement doing little to make him retreat. “How would I even get information like that while under constant surveillance? You lock me away in that house, guards watching my every move. You don’t tell me anything you’re doing, lecture me about staying safe without telling me anything, and expect me to go meekly along with it—”

“Goddammit,” Jeremiah roared, startling me into silence, “I can’t have your death on my hands!” Wild desperation played across his face as his hands left my shoulders, framing my face without touching my skin. “I promised I would keep you safe, then you go and pull something like this.”

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