Page 58 of The Wild Man

She grips my hand tighter, holding my fingers together so I can’t move them. “Don’t do that.”

“Tell me about family,” I say as she continues to look at my hand. “Why would you leave me to go to them?”

She answers without looking at me. “Because I love them.”

“What makes you love them?”

“They care about me, and I know they’re worried about what’s happened to me.” Her small finger gently slides over my palm, tracing the outside of the cut. “I hate knowing I’m putting them through that. My father and brothers are very protective of me.” She looks up, meeting my eyes. “You know how you get angry if you think something might happen to me?” I give her a jerky nod. “They are the same. They’re like you when it comes to something hurting me. They’ll find me, Wild Man, and take me away. And when they do, I worry what they’ll do to you. I don’t want to see you hurt any more than you want to see me hurt.”

It’s not the first time she’s told me this. I’d like to see her family try to take her from me. No one, man or creature, will come near my female. I’ll kill anything that comes between me and her.

For now, I ignore her warning. “Tell me about father and brothers. What are they like?”

A smile curves her lips. “You actually remind me of them a little.” I raise my brow at that and she laughs. “They go crazy when they think I’m in danger. I can’t count how many times my brothers have threatened boys if they came near me.”

There’s that word again.

Boys.

I’ll kill them all.

Before my temper rises, she continues, rushing her words as if she knows her mistake.

“It was a headache having them around sometimes. I couldn’t go anywhere without at least one of them with me. But as much as I hated it, I also loved the closeness we all share.”

“How many brothers?”

“Four.”

She takes my hand and pulls me out of the water. Grabbing the cloth I use to cover myself, she attempts to rip a piece off. I take it from her when she has trouble and easily tear off a strip.

“Thanks.”

She wraps the piece around my hand and ties it off on the back. Once she’s done, I grab her hand and pull her to a fallen tree. I sit with my back to it and pull her down between my spread legs. She leans back against me, a small breath leaving her.

She continues talking without me asking.

“My oldest brother is Maddox, but we all call him Mad for short. He’s eight years older than me and takes his role as big brother very seriously. I feel horrible for the people around him right now because he’s cranky on the best of days. I’m sure by now he’s a beast to be around because he doesn’t know what’s happened to me.”

Her gaze dips off to the water.

“Next is Ethan, who’s six years older. He’s the black sheep of the family.”

“Black sheep?” I ask, not understanding this term.

“The rebel. He does the opposite of what my father says. Something happened between them years ago and neither of them will talk about it. Whatever it was caused a rift between them and it’s never healed. Ethan lives to piss off our dad.”

I pick up a lock of her hair and twist it around my finger. She watches the movement with a small smile

“Spencer is five years older. He’s the nerd and can tell you everything there is to know about computers and technology.” She sees my confused expression and explains. “Computers are metal boxes that can store, retrieve, and process information. When Spencer was thirteen, he hacked into the Pentagon’s database—the Pentagon is the government and a database is where they store information. I thought Dad was going to have a heart attack when he found out. Luckily, Spencer was able to hide his trail so the government could never locate where the hack came from.”

The outside world seems too big.

“And then there’s Joseph, or Joe,” Momor continues. “He and I are the closest because there’s only three years between us. He’s more sensitive than my other brothers, and likes to fuck with our older siblings. But he has a short fuse. When he gets angry, people around him know to stay away.

“One girl with many boys. Like Devika.”

She lays her arm on top of mine that I have wrapped around her waist. Her fingers play with the dark hair. I see from the side of her face that she’s still smiling.