Sherman
I had to laugh.
The dude was a mess.
Head over heels for his sister? And does nothing?
But he sure could talk.
My amusement was short-lived.
The anger.
Now aimed at me.
The smile died on my lips.
Noah Brown lay propped against the stark white pillows, his complexion pale but his gaze unsettlingly sharp.
"I'll see to it that my brother faces consequences for what he's done," I said, tone level. "And you need not worry about the cost of any of this. Your recovery is what matters."
Noah's eyes hardened by bitterness and pain—narrowed.
"I will repay every penny," he stated, voice rough but unwavering. "And my sister doesn't need anyone to fight her battles for her."
There was something in the way he said my sister—too protective, too possessive.
