That was about it, though. Ever since the six of them had been shown into this cafeteria/hangout room, with its college dorm, concrete-and-throw-rug-style decor, TV, and galley kitchen, he’d been staying away from the others. Short of learning their names, he’d kept on the outside of the group, listening to their stories without offering any details of his own.

Wasn’t like he had much to share. He was the only one of his family left, and he was not about to air his personal memories of the raids.

What he did pay attention to was the back-and-forthing of that Peyton guy. The SOB was up and off his couch, checking the bunk room every ten seconds.

Why the guy didn’t just stay in—

This time, when Peyton poked his head through the door, there was some conversation. Then he went in and shut the door solidly. When the male came back out after a little while, he went over to the Anslam guy and whispered something. Whatever it was, Anslam agreed with a shrug and a nod.

And then Peyton went back to sitting in the middle of the room.

Not long thereafter, Paradise came out— and the instant she was through the doorway, everyone looked over at her, the conversating about Tosh.0 stopping.

Craeg turned away from her, mostly because he resented like hell the fact that his blood pressure rose and his heart rate increased just at the sight of the female.

Damn it, none of these people were his business. Especially not her.

“Lady and gentlemales,” Peyton said. “We have our Primus.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gritted before any kind of applause could happen. “Ever.”

“Why?” Novo challenged. “You beat all of us. You lasted the longest. You should be fucking proud of it.”

Okay, now there was the female he should have been going for—not that he was interested in anything sexual from anybody at the moment. Still, Novo was his kind of “lady”—one who knew her way around an obstacle course and was clearly the type to clock an offender first and ask questions only after the jaw she’d broken had been reset.

Novo also looked damned good in that loose Hanes T-shirt and those surgical scrubs she’d traded her trashed clothes in for.

He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed, either. Anslam, Axe, and even that Peyton fucker had been checking her out surreptitiously—not that she’d seemed to care, or even notice.

The receptionist, on the other hand, was no doubt very used to everyone looking at her. Blondes like her never failed to get attention.

It could make them targets, too.

And yeah, that was what he’d been thinking when he’d stood over her desk and suggested she enter the program. Sure, a female such as herself was protected by the males in her family, but that didn’t always work, did it.

His own sister would have been alive today if that had been true.

“…with us?”

Craeg looked up at Novo. “What?”

“We’re going to go find someone to get us more to eat. We’ve finished everything in the fridge and the cupboards here. You want to come?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll get more of those double-stuffed Oreos for you. You ate them all.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” she said as she turned away.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he winced as he shoved his ass further down in the chair and kicked out his legs. Shut-eye. That was what he needed—and as he heard the door close, he exhaled.

“You aren’t hungry?”

His lids popped open and he shifted his head. Paradise was still by the door of the bunk room, and she looked about as relaxed as he no longer felt, standing there with her arms around her middle and her robe lapels tight to her throat.

“No,” he snapped.

Shit, there was no reason to bite her head off.

“I mean … no.” Great, he sounded like a total idiot.

“How are your feet?”

“Fine.” There was a pause, as if she were waiting for him to ask the same of her. “Look, why don’t you go with the others—”

“You can’t kick me out of here, you know.”

He lowered his lids. “You’ve got to get over this thing about trying to talk to me.”

“Why? What did I ever do to—”

Craeg sprang up out of his chair and crossed the distance between them. Getting all into her space, he made sure she had plenty of time to measure exactly how big he was.

“You were saying?” he said in a low voice. “Or are you leaving.”

Her blue eyes stretched wide. “Are you threatening me?”

“Just suggesting a relocation that will be better for both of us.”

“Why don’t you leave?”

“I got here first.”

“Because you failed … riiiiiight. You lost to a girl … riiiiiiiiiiiight.”

Craeg ground his molars. “Don’t push me, okay. I’ve had as long a night as you have.”

“You were the one who came over here like a charging bull. And I would leave—because I really don’t like you as much as I thought I would. The truth is, though, my feet hurt so badly I can’t really walk, and I have too much pride to ask for a wheelchair.”

Total.

Fucking.

Asshole.

Yeah, that was pretty much how he felt as he dropped his stare further and saw her shoeless, sockless feet in all their gory non-glory: Angry red welts had sprung up on the sides and across the tops, and the right one was so swollen, it looked like it didn’t belong at the end of her slender ankle.