Filed To Story: Craving The Wrong Brother Book PDF Free by Elysian Sparrow
He walks to me and places a warm hand around my arm, steering me toward the door.
“Now would be a good time to start talking,” I continue. “Who’s after me?”
He doesn’t say anything until we’re inside. The moment the door clicks shut, I toe off my shoes. Knox does the same, as meticulous as ever, before heading straight for the bar. He pulls a bottle of scotch from the top shelf and grabs two glasses.
I toss my bag on the couch with more force than necessary and follow him.
“Come have a drink,” he says as he uncorks the bottle.
Settling into one of the chairs, I reply, “You didn’t even ask if I like scotch.”
He pours the amber liquid into both glasses and pushes one across the counter toward me.
“There’s only one way to find out. Drink.” usha / ????
“You’re annoying.” I grab the glass and down the whole thing in one go. The burn is instant.
“You should probably slow down,” he says. “That shit is strong.”
“Why?” I set the empty glass down with a satisfying thud. “There’s no reason not to get drunk in your house. You’re my almighty protector who, of course, hasn’t told me what he’s protecting me from.”
He downs his drink next, refills both, then stares at the freshly poured glass with concentration. Man, if I could read minds, I’d be tearing through his right now.
I count in my head, trying to be patient,
“You remember that Russian lullaby?” he finally says.
The question comes as a surprise.
“Do you mean the one from the night you had a bad dream?” I ask.
“It wasn’t just a dream. It was a memory.”
I wait, careful not to push. This is one of those places I’ve learned to tread lightly-Knox’s past. His years in service. I don’t know the full story of what happened overseas and at home before he left. But whatever it is, I only hope it hasn’t completely charged him. Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of the man he might’ve been before it all went dark. The man he might still be if someone could just reach in far enough to bring him back.
“What is it you wanted to tell me about the lullaby?” I ask carefully.
He lifts his eyes from the drink and stares into mine. “The man who always sang that lullaby, we called him T-Bone. Used to be a cheerful fellow.
I nod. “That’s the man who got captured with you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did he die before or after you escaped?”
Silence.
Then, “I left him there alive. But when we couldn’t find him later, we assumed he’d been killed and buried.”
I wait.
“Turns out,” Knox continues, “he’s very much alive. And until I know why he’s taken an interest in you, you’re not leaving my sight.”
My heartbeat falters.
“Hold up. He’s alive? When did you discover this? And why did you say he’s interested in me?”
“His name’s Mateo Torres. Does that ring a bell?”
My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
“Mateo?” I whisper. “The same Mateo I just had dinner with?”
“Yup.”
“Why would he want to hurt me?”
“I don’t know.”
I shift in my seat, pushing a bit away from the bar. “I can’t just stop going to work, Knox, because you think my boss plans to harm me. Why would he promote me if he has bad plans?”
“Could be Hunter’s doing. I believe Hunter’s an unaware participant in Mateo’s game. Mateo’s probably rolling with the promotion suggestion because it solves the problem of keeping you close.”
“Keeping me close for what?”
“I’ll have those answers soon. You just sit right in this house and don’t go anywhere.”
He doesn’t really expect me to drop everything and start living in fear just because of a hunch, does he? That’s like saying the man bought an entire firm just to get revenge on a guy he knew in the army years ago. It sounds dramatic. Paranoid. Borderline unhinged. And maybe that’s exactly what Knox is feeling, but still-locking me inside his house because some ghost from his past resurfaced? That’s not protection. That’s control. And I’m not going to play along just because he’s uncomfortable with Mateo being back.
“Do you know how to use a gun?” he asks suddenly, after knocking back another shot.
“A gun?”
“I gotta get you one.”
“I don’t need it. I hate guns.”
“You don’t have to like them. You just have to know how to use them. We’ll begin lessons tomorrow.”
“Woah, slow down, Rambo. You’re really taking all this too far.”
“Taking your protection too far?”
I exhale, trying to think straight. Before Knox, I used to think my dad was the most paranoid person I’d ever met. Now? Knox is giving him a run for his money.
“I’m not stopping work, Knox,” I say. “For the sake of your paranoia, I’ll let you arm me. But I’m not quitting my job right when I’m about to be promoted.”
“It’s not like you need the money. I gave you that card.”
“Which I said I didn’t need. I can take care of myself. This is my life we’re talking about. I’m not throwing it down the drain because of some hunch. Or is there something else I’m missing here? Did you do something to him?”
“It’s the captain’s duty to protect his troops. He might be feeling like I failed him.”
“And the solution is to attack me?”
“You never know what’s going through a survivor’s mind, especially one who went through a longer time of torture. I don’t want you around him.”
I sigh. “I understand that you care about me, Knox-“
“I don’t just care about you,” he says, voice suddenly low and firm. “I love you, you stubborn woman. And I want you to sit your ass at home where I know you’re safe for the time
The words land right in the center of my chest, stealing the breath from my lungs: I almost smile. Almost.
God. Why does he have to say it like that? With so much passion and authority. So blunt. So certain. Like it’s just a fact and not the thing I’ve been secrety dying to hear again since the last time he said it while I was dozing off in the playroom, that soft whisper of ‘I love you’ against my nerk. My whole body reacts before my mind can catch up-chest tightening, skin buzzing, knees a little weak even though I’m sitting.
I want to throw myself into his arms. I want to blurt it back and tell him, ‘Yes, I love you too. I’ll stay here forever if you want me to? We’ll figure out the closet space and whose mug is whose and grow old yelling at each other over breakfast. I want to be that girl. Just once.
But that would be my heart talking. And maybe my hormones, because every inch of me wants to be touched by him when he says stuff like that,
My brain, though? My brain is still working. Barely. It’s reminding me that love doesn’t mean letting him lock me away because he’s scared. That just because he feels this deep need to protect me doesn’t mean I should let him bulldoze my choices. Even if part of me aches to let him.
So I breathe. I hold my ground. And I say, “I’m going to stay here for the weekend. I’ll even move in, and we’ll be roommates with my heartbroken stepfather. But you’re not stopping me from going to work, Knox.”
“Oh, I am.”
“You’re not.”
“This is not a joke, Sloane. I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what? You’re not even sure there’s danger, and I’m supposed to just keep my life on hold?”
He moves fast. One hand grabs the side of my chair, dragging it-and me-closer. The other wraps around the back of my neck, pulling my face to his.
Our eyes meet, and for a second, I forget to be angry. Forget to argue. Forget the whole reason we’re even here.
He leans in so close I feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. “What’s the attitude about, lady?”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.