Free Neil (The Uncompromising Series Book 2) by Sybil Bartel Page B

relatively safe at work with all the guys but I still wasn’t going to risk it.
    “Got you covered.” Tyler put his hand on my back. We turned toward the elevators and suddenly, Viking was in front of us.
    A sharp breath of surprise escaped my lips. “Hey.”
    Tyler stiffened. “Christensen.”
    His chest heaving like he’d been running, his glare trained on Tyler, Viking bit out one word. “Leave.”
    Tyler turned to me and opened his mouth to speak.
    Viking cut him off. “Now.”
    Conner squirmed and held his arms out to Viking. “Neil!”
    Silently reaching for my son, his eyes on Tyler, Viking took Conner and held him high on his chest. He murmured a few words in Danish and Conner tucked his head against Viking’s massive shoulder.
    Tyler watched the interaction and his frown deepened before he turned back to me. “Ariel, if you need anything at all, call—”
    “I said, now .” I’d never seen Viking lose his cool, but in that moment, I would’ve bet good money that if he weren’t holding my son, he would’ve leveled Tyler.
    “Thanks, Tyler,” I managed through the testosterone-fueled tension.
    “No problem.” Tyler handed me the diaper bag then turned on Viking and dropped the polite pretense. “Luna’s on his way. He said to wait for him.”
    No nod, no reply, not a single sign of acknowledgement. Viking didn’t even blink.
    Tyler took three steps backwards then pivoted and disappeared into the stairwell.
    I said the first thing that popped into my head. “Well, that’s one way to piss a line in the sand.”
    His gaze cut to mine, sharp and unforgiving. “I was claiming nothing.”
    “Of course you weren’t.” I ignored the sting and stepped toward the elevator.
    “I will defend neither my actions nor my reputation.”
    I turned and suddenly I was caught up in a storm. Three crates of guns in my vehicle, my life beyond a mess, I stared into gray-blue eyes and my shit was completely eclipsed by the expression on Viking’s face. Every ounce of control I’d ever seen in him was gone. He wasn’t just out of breath, he wasn’t only frowning, his whole body was rigid with the strain of a tight control that was about to snap.
    “Transport of stolen weapons with a minor in the vehicle is inexcusable,” he ground out.
    “I know.”
    Viking stared. “You should have called me.”
    I was pretty sure that to Viking, showing emotion was equivalent to weakness. Probably worse. But he was standing in front of me, protectively holding my son and doing exactly that. It shouldn’t have touched my heart, but it did. A big, giant, six-foot-six-sized impossibility not only reached a part of me I swore no one ever would again, but the sentiment was trying to take up residence. I needed a dose of reality. “You told me you aren’t looking to be a father figure.”
    His jaw ticked. “That is a separate issue.”
    “Is it?” The flaw in his thinking was insurmountable.
    “Yes.”
    “Then that’s where we have a problem. I can’t un-attach the two. You want me to rely on you? Count on you? See you as a friend?” Viking and friend in the same sentence wasn’t even in my vocabulary, but I didn’t know what the hell to call what was happening right now. “Then you’re going to have to get used to the fact that not just me, but my son, will get attached to you.”
    “No attachments.”
    I sucked in a breath and tried not to feel the sting of rejection. “Then give me Conner and walk away.” I reached for my son, not sure who I hated more in that moment, Viking or Jason. “You don’t get to have this both ways.”
    “Ariella.” Low and throaty and sexy as hell, my name rolled off his tongue in a warning.
    My thighs clenched and my stomach fluttered, but I was done with this bullshit from him. “No, you don’t get to show up whenever you want and jerk me around. Chauffer me, chastise me, compliment me, yell at me—you’re all over the place and if you think for one second that what