Page 173 of Override

"Why?"

My smile grows. "I haven't decided yet."

He stares at me for another second as though he's genuinely considering asking more questions before turning his attention back to the hallway. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

Knowing his face hasn't made him any less strange. For some reason, I find that comforting.

The warmth of that thought lasts until we reach the end of the hallway and another set of headlights moves across the windows.

My steps slow. Keaton notices immediately. Of course he does. He stops with me instead of continuing toward the living room, turning his body enough that he can see my face.

"They won't hurt you." There isn't even the slightest hesitation in his voice.

I look toward the front of the house, where shadows move beyond the curtains. "How do you know?"

"Because they'd have to get through me first."

My eyes return to his. He's completely serious. Something warm and terrifying unfurls beneath my ribs. There are probably a thousand reasons I shouldn't believe him.

I've known his real name for approximately fifteen minutes. I've seen his face for less than an hour. I still don't know exactly who he is or what he does, and I'd willingly climbed into a vehicle with him after he made my husband pass out.

My father would be appalled by every decision I've made tonight.

But I believe Keaton. Completely. Maybe because Taibhse has never made me a promise he didn't keep. Maybe because he gave me back pieces of myself I'd thought were gone forever. Or maybe because some instinct buried deep inside me—the one I'd spent months ignoring to keep my marriage together—is finally screaming loudly enough for me to hear it.

Keaton won't let anyone hurt me. I know that. I just don't know if his team is going to make me go back. The thought sends cold fear sliding through the warmth in my chest.

Before I can ask him what happens if they try, a fist pounds against the front door hard enough to make me jump.

"OPEN UP, FUGITIVE!"

My heart leaps into my throat. Keaton closes his eyes.

A man's voice bellows from somewhere outside. "Wheels, if you break down my door, we're going to have a fucking problem."

My head turns slowly toward Keaton. "Bullet?"

He sighs. "Bullet."

Another bang rattles the door. "Technically, I'm knocking!"

"You're hitting it with your fist."

"That's how knocking works!"

"No, it fucking isn't!"

I stare at the door. Then at Keaton. Then back at the door. "What is happening?"

"I'm reconsidering several life choices."

Before I can ask which ones, the door flies open. Two enormous men attempt to come through it at exactly the same time. Neither one yields. For several seconds, I can only stare as one tries to shoulder his way past the other while they argue over who was there first.

"I was standing in front of the door," the blonde-haired one says.

"Congratulations," the other shoots back. "Do you want a medal or do you want to move your giant ass?"

"It's my house."