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"I'm not telling you shit, Madison Kate," he continued, in that low, menacing voice, "because I don't fucking trust you. You're not one of us; you're just a liability." His words hurt. More than they should have.
Ugh, I want to junk punch him so hard.
That was exactly the wrong phrasing to use, though. He slid out of his seat with fluid grace, and the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back against the velvet couch I'd been sitting on. His huge frame hovered over me,
"Hey, what the—fucking move, ass-pig!"
"MK is about to let us double team her, dickhead; she can call me anything she damn wants. You can't." Steele's glare was totally serious, and I just shrugged.
"Inside," Steele ordered me. "Now." I scowled in defiance, my lips parting to argue with him, but his expression shifted to something dangerous and somewhat frightening.
