The pair of them were closing in on each other, and not in a good way, their jaws jacked forward, their bodies hunched in aggression. And when she didn’t counter him on his last potshot, he knew he’d guessed right—knew, too, that she was hurting.
“I take care of myself, John Matthew,” she spat. “I don’t need you looking over my shoulder because I’m a female.”
I would have done the same for one of the Brothers. Well, mostly he would have. So don’t push that feminist bullshit on me—
“Feminist bullshit?!”
You’re the one making it about your sex, not me.
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, really. Funnily enough, I’m not persuaded. And if you think my standing up for myself is a goddamn political statement, you mated the wrong goddamn female.”
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