No Escape From War (Trouble for Hire #1) - Cynthia Eden Page 0,3
“Don’t use endearments that we both know you don’t mean.”
His head tilted to the left. His “thoughtful” pose. He had several different poses. Once upon a time, she’d cared deeply for him, so she’d learned his moves. His tells. When his head cocked to the left, he was thinking about something. When his head cocked to the right, it was game on. War was about to launch an attack.
He wasn’t about to attack—yet—so she had a few more moments to figure out her escape.
“Rose, you sound bitter. If I didn’t know better, I would think the breakup wasn’t your idea—”
“Wasn’t my—” Her nostrils flared, and she caught herself right before she lunged for him. No, going toward him would be a mistake. She needed to get away. But she also couldn’t let this point pass. Rose just didn’t have it in her. “I’m not the one who was an asshole with trust issues. That would be you.” Bam. Missile delivered.
His shoulders rolled back. The rolled back shoulders meant War was getting angry. Considering that Rose was more than a little angry herself, she didn’t care.
“And I’m not the one who made out with someone else.” War took a gliding step forward. He was big, but for all of his size, the man could sure move softly.
Because she was watching his sneaky movements, it took a moment for his words to register and when they did, her jaw dropped. She snapped it back up and fired, “Dylan kissed me. I didn’t kiss him. And I shoved him back and told him that if he ever did that crap again, I would have a sexual harassment case filed against him.”
“You—what?”
He was stunned. Thrown off balance. Good. This was her chance. Tears filled her eyes because what she was saying was true and because she was desperate, and this was her only chance. “You never gave me an opportunity to explain. You just acted. You raged. You accused. What about a little trust, War? A little faith? Would that have been too much to ask?” She whirled away from him and hunched her shoulders.
God, she still hurt. This man had gotten to her. Gotten past the guard that she used to keep everyone else out. Rose knew the score in this world. Only the tough survived. Trust family, no one else. Her mantra. But…
War had been different.
Or maybe she’d just wanted him to be different.
“Rose…” His hand curled around her shoulder. He was creeping closer and closer. This was it. Her chance to get away. And her chance to get a little payback. All in one lovely movement.
Leave me, will you? Gonna break my heart in a thousand pieces?
Her right foot angled back. With big guys like War, it was all a matter of…balance. Or rather, making him lose his balance.
“Are you telling me the truth?” he whispered.
She angled her body. “War…” Her head turned toward him just the faintest bit.
As he leaned his body toward hers…she struck. Her right foot swept hard against his ankle, and the mighty War went down with a bellow. “Go screw yourself,” she snapped at him. Then she was off. Racing as fast as she could through the night. When she wanted to be fast…
Rose was fast.
If tears fell as she ran away, at least War couldn’t see them.
***
He’d been played by a master. War jumped up. She’d pushed him into a stinking pile of garbage, and he knew that landing spot had been deliberate. Rose was one strategic plotter. He raked God-knew-what off his shoulder and bellowed, “Rose!”
She didn’t slow down. Snarling, he gave chase. His feet pounded over the ground as he flew after her. She was close to a waiting Jeep. Not her car. She always drove a convertible and it was currently sitting in her garage, but as he watched, Rose jumped into the Jeep and had the engine snarling to life. She whipped that vehicle into reverse, and gravel flew from beneath the tires. She started to shoot it forward.
War leapt into her path. His hands flew up. “Stop!” She might shove him into a pile of stinking garbage and rotting food, but he didn’t think she’d run him down.
Hopefully.
The Jeep’s headlights nearly blinded him.
“It’s over, Rose,” he yelled. She could hear him. The doors and roof of the Jeep had been removed. It was a beach town, and most of the Jeeps in the area looked that way. “I’m turning you in.”