17

"Before you say anything: I haven't revealed anything, nor have I implied anything. I would never stab you in the back and I'm not stupid enough to let him trick me," Samantha burst out immediately. She didn't stop Killian from walking over to her to grab the oversized sweater and pulling her towards you by the fabric until she was forced to tilt her head back to look at him. His eyes were still angry and there was something simmering in him that for once she couldn't calm down.

Killian looked at Samantha that she didn't know exactly how to handle the situation and he wasn't able to make it any easier for her either. He was so incredibly angry at Spencer for having managed to hang out with Sam for three minutes steal, was jealous of that last look the man had given her. And then there was the guilty conscience because he hadn't trusted her.

"I know I overheard you," he admitted bluntly, actually expecting one of Sam's bitter comments, but none came. Instead, her cheeks turned red and she looked away in embarrassment piqued interest. She definitely had, and Killian would be lying if he said he liked it or that he could easily forgive it.

"You've always had the gift of captivating everyone and everything," he said slightly reproachfully, and now he had obviously reached the point where her anger was being roused. Sam gripped his fist, who got caught in the fabric of her sweater and wanted to pull away from him, but he just held her tight. His sister was a moody force of nature who shook a mountain. It was loud, intimidating, and yet it had no effect on him.

"Yes of course! I do it on purpose, I really provoke men to stare at me lustfully and almost rape me. Is that what you want to say?" she burst out angrily.

But Killian didn't give in, of course he didn't mean that she could have been to blame for her father's assault. He never would and knew that So does she!

"You fucking love to flirt, there's no denying that!" Killian had no idea why it made him so angry that she was attracting so much male interest. Lie. He knew it. He was jealous and felt that none of these men deserved to be exposed to their harmless flirtation.

"I wasn't flirting with him!" Samantha interjected, digging her fingernails into the back of his hand. But he would never let her go, never let her go! She was right, she hadn't been flirting with him, he had overheard it himself. But that wasn't what he cared about. He cared about all the other men she smiled at, with whom she was so trusting and who weren't himself.

"And what about Dominic and Gideon, not to mention Thomas." Sam gasped in disgust and her entire neck turned red with anger. Unable to break free from his grip, she in turn grabbed his collar and pulled him down to her.

"How dare you! I've hardly exchanged a word with Gideon, and Dominic is one of your closest confidants. And Thomas? Are you serious? He's gay, Killian. He would be more interested in getting you into bed than me and even if: IT. GOES. YOU. NOTHING. AT! I'm old enough to make my own mind up about the men I flirt with!"

He stared down at her. A long time. And he growled in frustration, knowing she was right and he had no reason to blame her. And yet , he'd had enough, maybe it was because Spencer had already provoked him all along, maybe because he was emotionally drained himself by the loss of his mother, but by all he held sacred: she was his alone! his little sister, he had protected and fed her, made everything possible for her. And for that she was his!

"I'll only tell you once, Sam, and you'd do well to listen very clearly, because I won't repeat it: it's my business. You're my sister and I won't have any motherfucker touching you. Over my corpse. If I ever catch you making a move on a guy or tolerating his advances, I'm going to kill that bastard and that includes Dominic and everyone else. Got it?”

She looked completely taken aback. No wonder he'd always been gentle with her and kept his temper in check. But the days of the kid gloves were over. She let go of his collar and searched his eyes for something she wasn't and then seemed close to tears.

"I don't know what got into you, but you're condemning me to eternal loneliness, do you realize that? I'm already having tremendous trouble trusting men at all and just as I'm starting to process and open up to what Frank has done to me, are you forbidding me? Is it that what you want? Hold me captive in my trauma so you can rule over me?" She cried.

The first tears rolled down her cheeks and let his anger dissipate like a soap bubble. What had he done? What had he said? He had made her cry.

He hurt her and yelled at her. He just couldn't take it. He wrenched his fist out of the sweater she was wearing, his sweater, then cupped her face and desperately tried to wipe the tears from her cheek.

"No, no. Sam, please. Shhhhhh. It's okay, please don't cry." he pleaded, pulling her face into his chest and trying to comfort her. But her fist was pounding against his stomach muscles, for such a small woman she was really strong.

"Do not Cry? Why shouldn't I cry? I have a bully brother who denies me everything, including friends and love." He quickly cupped her small fists before she could hit him again, pinning her wrists with one hand to hug her again.

He doesn’t want to lose her, nor hurt her. How did other big brothers let their little sisters go? How? He didn't want to let her go, knowing that his jealousy would make their love life hell and yet he knew there was nothing he could do about it. He felt what he felt.

"I know you're going to hate me for it. Hate me, but this is what I felt.”