“Everyone, stop. Xander. Matt. Stop it. Your manners are atrocious.” Isleen’s disembodied voice came from behind Xander. She moved out to stand between the two groups of men. Isleen was all of five foot two and probably didn’t weigh ninety pounds, but her sweetness was an antidote to everyone’s anger.
Xander moved in next to Isleen, tucking her into his body. And when Isleen looked up at him, the expression he gave her was filled with adoration and love. God. They loved each other. Really loved each other. A love like Evanee had never seen.
Longing hummed through the chambers of her heart. All she’d ever wanted was someone to look at her that way. With her history though—never gonna happen. But even as those words crossed her mind, she recognized she wasn’t quite being honest with herself. Lathan looked at her like that. But was it a look of love, or was he simply trying to understand her speech?
“Don’t you see it?” Isleen asked Xander.
“Are you sure?” Xander asked her. They talked like no one else existed in the room.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Isleen and Xander and everyone else looked at Evanee and Lathan.
Sometime within the last few seconds, she wasn’t even aware of when exactly, she’d nestled into Lathan’s side with his arm around her. Almost exactly like Xander had his arm around Isleen.
“What are you talking about?” Evanee asked.
“I suspected,” Dr. Stone said.
Isleen smiled, her expression full of offered friendship. “You’ve met your protector.”
Chapter 10
Lathan couldn’t remember one thing about the drive home from the OIO. He completely lost himself in reflecting on Matt’s memories. What he saw set his rage on simmer.
He’d witnessed for himself, felt for himself Matt’s total indifference to Evanee. The only emotion the man had toward her was anger because she’d shown up at his place.
What really burned was that asshole could’ve protected her from Junior, but never cared enough to open his eyes and see the truth. Just thinking about it cranked Lathan’s rage up to boil.
He snapped out of his thoughts at the same time Gill parked in his driveway. Lathan was out of the car and dragging Evanee behind him up to the house before Gill even had a chance to unlock his seat belt. Maybe the guy would get the hint. Gill wasn’t exactly tops on Lathan’s friend list at the moment. Trying to talk to Honey without him knowing was a betrayal. Lathan needed to be alone with her to calm all the emotions.
But when they entered the house, Gill was right behind them.
Fucking damn.
This wasn’t going to end well.
“What now?” he asked Gill and made sure his tone conveyed the warning of his impending boil-over.
A rush of burning cinnamon emanated from Gill. He was just as pissed. “What’s your problem?”
“You.” Not all Gill—some was on Matt—but Lathan wasn’t going to explain. “Talking to her behind my back. Trying to keep secrets from me.” Gill knew—fucking knew—how Lathan’s hearing problems isolated him and had used that against him.
“I’m the only one watching out for you. You’re acting like some pussy-whipped motherfucker, panting around after her because you finally got fucked. And trust me, the pussy might be new now, but it’ll get old. It always does. Then what?”
He didn’t bother correcting Gill’s mistaken assumption. “Leave. Now.” Lathan spoke the words through clenched teeth. The only thing holding him back from going all MMA on Gill was Honey standing next to him. He dropped her hand and moved a few feet away. Just in case.
“Can’t you see what’s going on here? Her ex was Matthew Stone. The guy’s old enough to be her grandpa. Look where she works. Look where she lives.”
Lathan wasn’t going to enter a debate with Gill about Matt. “You saying my house is trash? ’Cause you didn’t seem to mind before.” His muscles constricted, on full alert, waiting for the command to strike.
“She’s moved in? Are you that fucking desperate? Have you asked yourself what she might want from you? What she has to gain by being with you? At best, she’s taking advantage of your generosity. At worst, she’s working with the Strategist.”
Rage at Matt and at Gill overflowed, pouring straight into Lathan’s swinging fist. He connected with Gill’s cheekbone. His knuckles compressed. The impact reverberated up his arm. Now to get ten more shots like that in, and he’d be feeling just about awesome.
Gill’s head snapped to the side. He lurched in that direction, but regained his footing and tackled Lathan low in the torso. Lathan stumbled back a few steps until the counter stopped him. He shoved Gill off and came at him with an uppercut. Gill blocked and swung for Lathan’s stomach, but Lathan braced. The blow hurt but didn’t give Gill what he wanted—Lathan bent over sucking air.
Lathan heard Honey, but couldn’t make out her exact words.
“Stay the fuck out of the way,” he yelled, then chanced a glance toward her. She charged Gill.
Pain radiated from the side of Lathan’s mouth. Gill had landed a punch in that brief moment when Lathan’s attention was on Honey. The lights went out. Back on. Blood gushed onto Lathan’s tongue.
Honey tried to tear her way in between them, tried to shove Gill back.
Inside Lathan’s mind, the future played out. He saw Gill swing for him, but his aim was thrown off by Honey pushing against him. Gill would miss him and land the punch squarely on her nose.
Lathan shoved Honey out of the way. “Stay back!”
Gill’s fist connected again with the same spot on the side of Lathan’s mouth. Blood flew from between his lips in fat droplets that would need to be wiped off the floor later. Lathan slammed his right fist into Gill’s stomach, followed by his left into Gill’s nose. A wash of crimson gushed down Gill’s face.
The stench of their mingled blood and anger was thick in the air. Lathan jammed Gill in the chest—his form of a truce—and waited until Gill caught his balance. “Get the fuck out.”
Gill stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking like he was contemplating coming back for another round.
“And don’t come back.”