He was seething, anger bristling from him in waves. Gone was any semblance of charm or laid-back calm. He was one huge ball of pissed-off alpha male.
“Please, not here,” she whispered. “I just want to go inside. Let me by and then leave.”
His expression of complete what the fuck made her pause as she attempted to push by him. He grasped her shoulders, his grip firm but extremely gentle, his fingers against her skin, but not pressing into her flesh.
“I want to know who the fuck did this to you,” he growled.
Her shoulders sagged and she nearly dropped the keys that dangled precariously from her fingers. She tightened her grip and then pushed her chin upward.
“Let me by,” she said through clenched teeth.
To her surprise, he dropped his hands and let her go down the steps, but he followed closely behind, giving her no option to go in and shut the door to prevent his entry.
She sighed as she unlocked her door and pushed it open. She felt better the moment she was inside. Her own space. It was laughable that she felt safe here after what had happened with Michael. But now that she knew just what he was capable of, she’d never make the mistake of letting him within a mile of her.
She dropped her purse by the door and walked into her tiny living area. Ash closed the door, sliding the deadbolt into place, and then he too entered her living room. A room that suddenly seemed way smaller with him in it. He stood there, staring at her, his gaze relentless as he did a thorough up-and-down of her body, stopping once again on the bruise on her cheek.
His eyes grew cold and she shivered.
“I haven’t heard from you,” he began.
She flushed guiltily and lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see all she wanted to hide.
“And now I’m thinking there was a reason you haven’t called me.”
Slowly she nodded, still not meeting his gaze.
“Josie, look at me.”
His voice was soft. Gentle even. But it was definitely not a request. It was a command. One she felt compelled to obey.
Slowly she lifted her head so their eyes met.
“Who did this to you?”
Gone was the gentleness, replaced by an edge of steel to his tone. His entire body vibrated with fury and it made her hesitant to tell him what had happened. How she’d ever thought him not dangerous or perhaps charming or affable she had no clue. Because the man standing in front of her right here, right now, looked capable of terrible things.
And it wasn’t that she was afraid of him. No, she knew instinctively, even as she was shrouded in fear over what had already happened to her, that this man would not hurt her. But he was angry. Angry didn’t even begin to describe what she saw in his eyes. And he absolutely looked capable of killing someone. She found herself not wanting to tell him, because she feared not him, but what he’d do.
“Josie, answer me,” he said through his teeth. “Who. Did. This. To. You.”
He wasn’t going to allow her not to tell him. And though she didn’t fear reprisal, she knew she absolutely had to obey him. He wouldn’t allow her to duck the question. She firmly believed he’d stand here all night, do whatever it took to get what he wanted.
She closed her eyes and exhaled in a long, weary sigh, her shoulders sagging in defeat.
“Michael,” she whispered, her voice so low she could barely hear it herself. Maybe she hadn’t even really voiced it.
“Say that again?”