Page 126 of The Broken Note

I’ll take from them. I’ll take just as much as they took from me.

“Why are you so damnstubborn?” The last word snaps in my face like a taut rubber band. “You know what most couples do when they have a misunderstanding, Cadey? They use words. They hash it out. And then they move on.”

“We arenota couple.”

“Then what the hell are we?”

“I don’t know, Dutch? You tell me! You’re obviously the one in charge here.” My hands are trembling so hard, I have to stuff them beneath my skirt and sit on them.

Dutch grits his teeth, more veins protruding in his neck. He wrenches his door open and pops out of the car.

At first, I think he’s going to stalk off and cool his head, but then I see him approaching the back door. I quickly slam the lock.

He pulls on the handles and arches a brow when he’s denied access.

I tilt my head to the side, smug.

Without any shift in his expression, Dutch digs his fingers into his pocket and uses the alarm to open the car.

I shriek when he yanks me out and pulls me around the car, and then he’s grabbing my waist and pushing me on the hood. My hands slide around his neck.

“What are you doing?” I scream, wrapping my legs around him to keep from getting burned. Most cars get extremely hot under the hood. Is he trying to melt my skin off?

But when Dutch drops me on top of his car, it’s not that hot.

“This is an electric,” Dutch says. Calm as a freaking bug. “You think I’d do anything that would hurt you, Cadey?”

“You can’t hurt me, Dutch. Not anymore. Not when I know the real you.”

His eyes narrow. He studies me with that hot, penetrating gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not discussing this with you.” I unwind my legs from his waist and move to hop off the car. Dutch slams his hands on either side of my thighs, caging me in.

Leaning forward, he grinds out, “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell you’re thinking.”

I scowl at him.

He looks right at me with those amber eyes of his, wraps his fingers around my ankles and jerks. I careen back, my elbows digging into metal as he drags me to the edge of the hood. With a snap of his wrists, he locks one of my legs around him.

My breath comes in sharp, hot spurts.

“What are you doing?” I squirm. The movement only causes more friction. “I thought you just wanted to talk?”

“We can talk like this.” With both of my legs secured around him, Dutch leans forward again. He gives me a pointed look that saysyou better give me what I want.

Fine. He wants to play games?

“Where were you at eleven last night?” I snap.

His eyes widen imperceptibly. It’s only a brief shock before his expression returns to its default setting. He doesn’t answer immediately, but I can hear the wheels turning in his head.

As the silence builds, so does my anger.

I fall into the fury all over again.

“I let you around my sister,” I hiss, my breathing erratic with anger at the mere mention of Viola. “I trusted you against my better judgement. And you were selling drugs, you sick piece of—”

“Your mother called me yesterday.” He’s watching me. Every flicker of my eyes. Every change of my expression.