Page 34 of Silver Fox Grump

Wes shakes me, letting out a howl of anger and frustration. I see his punch coming with easily enough time to move, but I don’t. I let him have this, and pain explodes through my jaw.

I deserve it.

“Sev!” Maisie cries in distress.

“I trusted you to look after her!” he yells, pulling out a gun, and cocks the safety.

I go still, my mind calm and blank.

“Dad, no!” Maisie screams.

I knew this was possible. He meant what he said about killing any man who touched his daughter, and drawing my own weapon isn’t an option. I promised I’d stay away from her, and I broke my word.

And I don’t regret it. If I die, I die honestly, and protecting the girl I love.

“What happened, Maisie?” Wes demands, not looking away from me, the gun unwavering. He cares about her, in his own haphazard way. “He took advantage of you. Tell me exactly what he?—”

“I love him,” she screeches in panic.

She loves me? Glancing across to her, it’s like taking off sunglasses. I’m blinded by the light of her. That’s… Insane. Too much.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” I say softly, and at least she knows. I came for her when she was hurting, and I love her too much to care if the consequences are fatal for me.

“He’s old enough to be your father—” Wes chokes.

“But he’s not my father, and he didn’t take advantage. And it’s…” She looks up at me, and my heart does that amateur gymnastics thing that it took up when we first met. “Love. It’s right. And I’m not marrying anyone but Sev.”

I hold out my hand and hope and confidence flare in her eyes as hers interlocks. Squeezing her fingers, I’m struck again by how small she is. How precious.

There’s a tense silence.

Wes’ hand begins to shake. “When did this start?” he grits out, but doesn’t lower his gun.

That’s a question I don’t want to answer.

“How long has this been going on?” he insists.

“I asked him to kiss me a couple of weeks ago,” Maisie says, and it’s the perfect combination of honesty and bare-faced lie of omission.

“A few weeks?!” he roars.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I can lie, but Wes is still my best friend.

The gun goes off so suddenly, for a second I think he’s shot me. But I don’t fall, so I swing around to check on Maisie. Then Wes has dropped his arms, and I realise there’s a hole in the wall two inches to the side of my head.

I let out a shaky breath. That wasn’t him missing. He’s decided to let me live.

Wes spins abruptly, holstering his gun, then sweeps his hands through his black hair, just like his daughter’s, and lets out a yell of frustration.

None of us move.

“I hate this,” he mutters. “I knew it. Iknewsomething was up between you two.”

Maisie reaches out with her free hand. I give her a warning squeeze, but I think his violence has burnt its hottest.

Probably.

“Dad…”