Page 39 of Last Man Standing

“Are you my boot, Boot? Or my servant?”

His eyes fire with the bad temper so often coiling in his blood. His lips tighten and, because they do, mine curl.

When he’s mad, I feel better.

Ironically, when he’s being too nice, I’m left wondering when the other shoe will drop.

“You enjoy tempting fate, don’t you, Princess?”

“Probably about as much as you do.” I take a long pull of my liquid meal, pleased at the chocolaty flavor that gives me almost the same hit I went to the fridge looking for in the first place. Assuming I ignore the sandy grit it leaves on my tongue, and the licked-a-moldy-wall aftertaste. “You keep calling me Princess like you’re not afraid I’ll show you my brother’s gun collection.”

His bad temper makes way for a chuckle, throaty and irritating. “You practice with them often?”

“Why? You wanna zig-zag in the backyard and test my skills?”

“Can you ever answer a fucking question without turning it into a game of who-can-be-more-annoying?”

I bring my shoulders up and smirk behind the lip of my cup. “Not really. You?”

He jams the pads of his fingers against his eyelids. Poking and prodding. Frustrated, and yet, he sticks around for this guard duty he never truly wanted.

“Do you ever feel afraid?”

Stunned, he swings dark eyes back up to mine. He glances left, then right. He swallows and sends his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then he brings his focus back to me and blinks. Blinks. Blinks. “What?”

“You look like the kind of guy who never gets scared of anything.” Damn my dumb voice and the way it crackles. Just shut up, Scarlett! Take your protein back to the room and zip it. “I don’t know your whole story. Or, well…” I shrug. “Basically any of it. But you look a certain way.” I lean back against the counter and gesture toward him with a simple flick of my wrist. “I’m assuming you have a military background, though I don’t know if you worked for Uncle Sam, or if your experience was gained while playing Call Of Duty on the PlayStation.”

His chest shifts with silent amusement.

“Military means you’ve done some stuff. Scary stuff,” I rasp. “Gone places and seen things that aren’t pleasant.”

He scoffs. “Rarely ever pleasant.”

“But you also look like nothing scares you.” I lower my drink and exhale a shuddering breath. “I’m not even trying to be a bitch when I say this⁠—”

His brow lifts on one side.

“But you look like you have no feelings at all. Besides anger, maybe. Ego. Intolerance.”

“But you’re not trying to be a bitch, right?”

I choke out a desperate laugh and push away from the counter, making my way around and coming up behind the soldier who can’t help but turn to keep me in his sights. He’s physically incapable of allowing a threat to be in his blind spot. Pulling out the stool beside his, I climb up and settle in, placing my drink on the counter and my elbows on either side, so my hair curtains forward and covers my face.

I’d rather sit beside him and not have to look into his eyes, than be across from him and let him see every expression that passes across my face.

“My brother told me you worked for Richard Aster, and how even the other bad guys shook in their boots when they heard your name.”

He lowers his head, nodding and leaning on the counter. “I’ve found a well-placed reputation, like a ghost haunting a man’s halls, is a better weapon than any I can actually use on a man myself.”

So… psychological warfare.

“He told me how he and Nova were in a really tricky spot back in the summer, and even when you swore to them you were on their side, you still hurt Nova.”

“I had a role to play. And more importantly, a mission to complete that was bigger than them. If I could keep Nova alive, then great. I didn’t have to be their enemy. But being their friend was not my main objective.”

“You threw her down and gave her a concussion. You made them question whether you were really on their side. Even now, they’re pretty sure, but they’re never completely convinced.”

“Because my mission is bigger than them,” he repeats on a rumble. “Always. I’ll help them if I can, and I’ll watch their backs if I have the ability to do so. But if I reach a crossroads where I’m forced to choose between them and the other people I’m protecting, I won’t choose your brother.”