Page 132 of Fractured Future

“Do you have any idea how many times I wished I had someone there to protect me? Someone who could save me? Someone capable of making the pain stop?”

His face wrinkling in a look of immense pain, Hyland drops my eyes. “I can imagine.”

“Then perhaps you can begin to understand why it means so much to me now, no matter how much of a hard time I give you. The truth is, I want to feel safe. I want to feel protected.”

When he climbs to his feet, disregarding the weapons box, I press against the ropes at my back. Hyland huffs a short breath then stomps over to me, stopping mere inches away.

My neck protests at the sharp angle it takes to look up at him. Gruff, grumpy, asshole Hyland. The handsome face hiding a hurting heart with so much left to give.

“You’re playing with fire, red. Someone will get hurt.”

Stepping into his space, my sports bra brushes against his torso. “I guess I’m greedy because I don’t care.”

“I don’t have that luxury.”

“Because you won’t allow yourself to have it,” I correct him. “What would it feel like to take exactly what you want for once? Can you imagine it?”

His loaded pause almost convinces me that he’s going to stalk off. Until his hand finds the back of my neck while the other moves to clasp my Lycra-covered waistline.

The forest-green of his eyes has been nearly swallowed whole by impenetrable blackness. If I could throw myself into the depths of his pupils, I doubt I’d be able to crawl out again.

“I don’t have to imagine, Em.”

Euphoria smacks me in the face and nearly knocks me off my feet when his mouth brushes over mine. The featherlight touch screams through my extremities and sets each limb alight with need.

“Just once won’t hurt,” Hyland adds hoarsely.

His lips press on mine again in a more commanding kiss. The kind of kiss that stakes an irreversible claim on a person’s soul. A kiss so hard and demanding that I gasp into his mouth.

Trapping me against his barrel chest with the hand that cups my neck, Hyland’s lips are possessive and firm. He kisses like he’s trying to communicate something through his touch alone.

I pour my confusing emotions into it—my appreciation and desire for him, my need for belonging and the turbulence of being pulled in different directions by the way they all make me feel.

Hands sneaking up the solid lines that carve his chest, I curl my arms around his neck and reach onto my tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Hyland responds in kind, a rumble echoing from his throat.

My tongue glides over the seam of his mouth, offering another vulnerable plea. He relents immediately, allowing me to sweep inside and taste every ounce of desire that fuels his movements.

The thought that I’ve broken this strong, usually unaffected man enough for him to give me this one moment of relief is staggering. He’s relented for me.

Lord fucking forgive me, I want to break his resolve again. Over and over. Smash it apart, collect the pieces, then admire them while he fucks the life out of me.

At the sound of a very loud, very deliberate throat clear, Hyland’s mouth tears from mine like I’ve scalded him. Sheer panic infiltrates his face as he looks over my shoulder at something I can’t see.

“Training is going well, I see.”

Fuck, fuck, triple fucking fuck!

“We’re just heading to the shooting range,” Hyland rushes to explain.

“Sure looks like it.” Warner’s voice is unmistakable, albeit unimpressed. “You’re wanted upstairs. Go.”

Abruptly releasing me, Hyland avoids meeting my eyes as he collects the weapons box and exits the ring. I work on catching my breath before I turn to duck through the ropes after him.

Dread invades my body and makes itself at home when Warner doesn’t move from where he’s leaning in the doorway. He lets Hyland pass without sparing him a glance.

I’ve never quite understood the expressioncaught red handeduntil now. Not even when Tom caught me making out with my first boyfriend and promptly threw him out of the house.

As I scurry across the room, hoping Warner will let me escape without confrontation, my cheeks feel like they’re aflame. I didn’t mind toying with Axel or Hyland. But Warner? That’s a whole other ball game.