Shady can’t.
I feel it before he speaks.
“You’re not leaving without me.”
I look back at him.
His face is carved from control and panic, the exact combination that makes dangerous men do stupid things.
“I am,” I say.
“No.”
The word slams into the room.
My body reacts before my pride can stop it. Heat, fear, fury, all tangled. A man telling me no after I have been tied to a chair is a match in gasoline.
Shady sees it.
He closes his eyes for one second.
When he opens them, his voice is different.
Rougher.
Lower.
“Fuck. That came out wrong.”
“Did it?”
“Yes.”
“What did you mean?”
He swallows like the words are glass. “I meant I don’t know how to watch you walk out while you’re hurt and not lose my goddamn mind.”
My throat tightens.
That answer is worse because it is honest.
I step close again, even though I should not.
“You saved me from them,” I say.
His eyes hold mine.
“Yes.”
I force the rest out.
“Now I need to save myself from you.”
The room goes so quiet I hear Disco’s claws scrape softly against his perch.
Shady doesn’t move.
He doesn’t reach for me.