Page 56 of Forged in the Fire
Now, it was just disorienting.
“The fuck are you wearin’?” The gruff words scraped through the air.
A frown slashed deep, and I looked down to take in my attire.
The lacy white dress that hit me mid-thigh, cinched at the waist with a black belt and flowy in the skirt, my favorite peep-toe black heels on my feet.
“What, am I not dressed appropriately for you? I figured if I was working in your office representing your fine, upstanding company, I’d better look good doing it.”
I added as much spite to it as I could conjure.
So maybe there was a valid reason I was here, but that didn’t mean I trusted this guy, and it wasn’t like he was offering any answers.
And Silas was dangerous. Up to no good. Involved in foul, nefarious things.
Hands down.
Signed and sealed.
Hell, that shit could be notarized.
Perilous in a way that Dereck should have stayed far away from.
But my brother had always had a sick fascination with villains.
Silas pushed from the wall and came my way.
His stride long yet somehow slowed. Stalking his prey with no covertness to it.
He stopped right in front of me, and I steeled myself as he leaned in close and rumbled in my ear, “I think what you’re trying to do is do me in.”
Every word was serrated, and the breath I inhaled was sharp. The only thing it did was drag that horribly delicious scent into my aching lungs.
Cherries drenched in whiskey.
I wondered if he’d been hitting the bottle at eight in the morning.
“Do you in? I’m pretty sure it’s me who’s at the disadvantage.”
“I guess it’s only fair then.” He said it like we were even.
A shock of disbelief puffed out of me. “There’s nothing fair about this. You bossing me around and not telling me why you’re doing it.”
“You haven’t come close to seeing me bossy, Brinley.”
I scoffed, and a vat of indignation filled my voice. “You tossing me around last night wasn’t you being bossy?”
Silas somehow managed to angle closer. So close his chest hit my mug that I had clutched between us.
“Not even close.”
Air hefted free. “Is that what you want? Me afraid of you? Well, I’m not.”
It was a blatant lie. There was no question this man could tear me to shreds, and he would take great pleasure in doing it.
I didn’t want to wonder how many kills he had notched on his belt, but right then, it was the othernotchesI was irresponsibly speculating about.
A fool who was wondering if he’d wandered back to that party last night and snatched up one of the willing women after he’d left me panting and confused.
