Flashback ( PDFDrive )

EIGHT
NO!” SOPHIE LUNGED TO GRAB Sandor’s arm with her unbandaged
hand, ignoring the pain that tore through her wounded shoulder in the
process. “I don’t want another bodyguard. I want you.”
Her fingers only wrapped about a quarter of the way around his
massive forearm, so he could’ve easily pulled away. But thankfully, he
stayed.
“I appreciate the sentiment,” he said quietly, staring at where her
fingers rested on his skin. “But ‘want’ should never be a factor in these
kinds of matters. What you need is someone who hasn’t failed you—
time and again.”
“No, what I need is someone I trust,” Sophie argued.
His gaze shifted to her cast, and he pulled his arm free of her grasp.
“Your trust is misplaced.”
“You don’t get to decide that! I do. And I know you did everything
you could possibly do to protect me. Everything.”
“Exactly,” he said, finally using the handkerchief to clean the blood
off his face—scrubbing so hard it looked painful. “My methods failed.
I was useless to you, and Fitz and . . . everyone else.”
The tiny hesitation made her wonder if he’d been about to say
“Grizel.” And if he had been, maybe that’s what this was really about.
Maybe watching the female he loved get brutally attacked was
enough to make him want a safer assignment.