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“That motherfucker shouldn't touch any woman like that,” I growl, leaning over the counter to close the distance between us. “He deserves for someone to kick his ass.”

His dark eyes meet mine, and the box drops to the granite counter. Pressing his palms to the white stone, he leans closer, pressing his stomach against the edge. “You mean like what you did to that tweaker in Texas?”

With an exaggerated eye roll, I shove my palms against the cold stone to stand straight.

“You did that before you even knew the girl. Now you're attached and volatile.”

I slide my fingers through the soft strands of my dark hair as I pace from one side of the kitchen to the other. “Okay, I'll admit I took it a little too far—”

“You beat the shit out of him, then pressed the barrel of your gun to his temple.”

My shoulders stiffen as tension radiates through them and down my spine. He's right. I did lose it that day. Looking back, I blame it on everything that past year had built up inside me. Still, no excuse. Thank goodness none of the boys or that idiot down in Boone reported it.

“I won't go after Birmingham,” I grumble, admitting defeat.

“Or Whit.”

I shoot him a glare. Of course this asshole is getting technical to make sure I don't find a loophole in his whole 'Save Trey from himself' plan.

“Or the sociopath Whit.”

“Good. Now there's something else I've been thinking about, and those marks on Randi's neck solidified my decision. I want her to meet Sarah.”

My eyes round with shock. “What?” He's never, not once, allowed his fierce wife to mix with his business. His take is our job makes it too easy for someone to notice and gain leverage over him, but I think it's because he doesn't want the whole team to know he's fucking whipped by that woman. Hell, I would be too if I were married to her.

“Last night, Randi mentioned wanting to learn to fight. At the stupid inauguration thing while you were outside playing the avoidance card.”

“Touché.”

“She needs to learn how to fight back. I'll crush her, you'll just end up fucking her, and if one of the guys touches her, you'll kill them, so that leaves the only other person I can trust.”

I nod at the full truth in his statement. Damn, this is why this man is our team lead. He sees everything, processes it quickly, and does what needs to be done. I miss him in a way, miss the back-and-forth we used to have before Randi. I don't blame her for it, but my pull to her inadvertently changed my relationship with Tank. Not for the worse, just different. Hell, I'm different. There's more at stake now, less room for error.

“Then do it,” I finally say. The pads of my fingers rap along the counter over and over as I process everything he's said. “Think it’ll be enough?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs while shoving another handful of processed carbs into his mouth. “She has us, but knowing how to defend herself is also a new priority. Who knows what this city has up its sleeve for that girl?”

“Fuck.” I press my elbows onto the stone and run both hands through my thick dark hair. “We'll be ready, and so will she,” I whisper, repeating it over and over in my mind like a mantra.

We have to be.

Nothing can happen to that amazing woman upstairs.

If something does, I'm not sure I'd survive it.

Chapter Four

Randi

February

Ipace the length of the VP office, located just down the hall from Señor Douche’s, where he’s no doubt sitting back doing nothing except plotting more ways to ruin my life.

Huh. I slow my steps to search the ceiling as I run that line over in my head once more. Maybe people are right and I’m where Tae gets her dramatics. Eh, I’m not that bad. A single shoulder rises in indifference to my internal debate. Doesn't matter if I'm overreacting or not. The guy is a grade-A asshole and needs to be taken down.

“Being a massive arrogant prick should be listed as reasons for impeachment,” I mutter around the ragged thumbnail between my teeth. “It would make my life easier right now.”

“Aiming for the president’s seat, are you?” I startle at Todd's voice, having completely forgotten he was in here.