Page 31 of Perfect Liar

“Where’s my gun?” I demanded.

His head snapped in my direction.

“I’ll manage the weapons.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Whatever. It’s mine, and I want it back.”

He straightened and faced me with his feet wide apart and his arms folded over his chest.

“Do you know how to use it?”

I shrugged.

“How hard can it be?”

He darted up the veranda steps and hovered like a storm.

“You will not touch any firearm unless you’ve learned to use it properly. When you’re quite finished behaving like a fucking brat, we’ll talk about what happens next.”

“Me? You’re the big bastard.”

“You’re behaving like a fucking brat,” he repeated.

God, his sweaty, woodsy-scented heat.

He cocked his head.

I considered slapping the smug expression off his face, but he shook his head in warning, then he jerked me against his chest and rested his cheek on the top of my head.

“Listen, I know you’re scared. And you’re grieving. Let me bear the weight of this burden. You don’t need to think about protection detail. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

I clutched on to his sweaty shirt. I thought I should cry, but I couldn’t feel my sorrow or my pain, not this time.

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I feel anything?

“Elle, I know you’re worried about Lissie, but she’ll be fine. You are my concern.”

I glanced at the glass doors and saw Lissie still lying on the floor with my tablet.

“How can she be fine?”

“If she’s Ethan’s, she’ll be with family.”

I put my forehead against his chest to think.

“Do you really think she’ll be okay?”

Will backed up, whistled at Ben, and pointed at Lissie, then he took my hand.

“Come walk with me.”

As he led me away, and we walked along the shoreline, his mood changed.

Something troubled him.

A little shock of pain shot through my stomach.