Page 84 of Come for Me
Because I can be quite the handful, I know exactly why he doesn’t want to deal with my shenanigans.
“I don’t wanna be your fucking babysitter all the time. No, thanks.”
Sam likes to act like he hates me, but even on a bad day, I’m the little sister he never wanted.
“I don’t need a babysitter. But Dax won’t let me go unless you go with me.”
“No. Every time I watch you, you turn into that fucking cartoon character, Road Runner, and then Dax gets fucking pissed when I don’t know where you went.”
I bite my lip to hide my laugh.Guilty.
“Not gonna happen,” he says as he points in my face and bumps his shoulder into mine as he passes me.
He isn’t afraid of upsetting the king’s mate like everyone else.
Dammit.
I chose Sam because I thought he’d be my best chance at getting out of this place. It doesn’t hurt that Sam would jump at the opportunity to be around drunk women. But I didn’t think about what taking me would mean for him. It’d be work, not fun; he’d be responsible for my safety. Baring the mark of the king already puts a target on my back—add alcohol to the mix, and I’d be vulnerable to attacks. Sam wouldn’t enjoy himself guarding me all night.
Okay, so beers and drunk she-wolves won’t do it for him. Time for another tactic.
“Are you denying your queen this request?”
His footsteps come to a stop, and I turn to face him while cocking my head.
When Sam turns to face me, he doesn’t seem rattled by my question. Instead, he’s calm, his face emotionless. Dax must’ve taught him well.
“Last I checked, you’re not my queenyet.” Sam’s arms are crossed as he leans forward.
I catch the hidden meaning behind his emphasis.
Sam believes what everyone else does: Dax always gets what he wants, finds a way. And he wants me, and Sam thinks he’ll have me. He believes me succumbing to being their queen is the equivalent of my submission to their ways.
“Do I not bear his mark? Does Dax not have everyone showing their necks to me in submission? Are you telling methat if I ordered you, as your queen, that you wouldn’t be expected to listen?”
This time, I have him backed against the wall.
He’s silent.
“What would Dax have to say about your”—I look him up and down, meeting his gaze head on with my eyes narrowed—“defiance?”
I use Dax’s favorite word to describe me.
Sam looks shock at my indirect threat but grins while looking down at me.
“Dax would be pleased to hear you’re already calling yourself queen and bossing people around.”
Fuck. I didn’t mean it that way.
Alright, let’s try again.
“I’m going with you or without you. And I don’t think Dax would like it if he found out you let me go alone.”
He chuckles once more. His laughs are irritating me.
“I’m sure Dax would gladly jump at the chance to take you out and get you drunk, princess. All you gotta do is ask.”
I throw my hands up and groan at that.
