Haven
My poor heart has taken a beating ever since this afternoon. Instead of finding any relief, I’ve met a man who wants to kill me in his own way.
Not with a weapon, but with his hands. Sure, he had his fingers wrapped around my throat for a short moment there, but nothing comes close to how his hand feels against my leg. Not just my thigh, but the inner patch that tingles from a mindless stroke of his thumb.
He’s carrying me like I weigh as little as a sack of potatoes. I’m a big girl; people don’t casually pick me up, especially not like this.
If he doesn’t do the job, I think I’ll want to die after this. My poor heart can’t take much more.
Taking me to a room that smells of leather and pine, I’m dropped onto a bed. With a little bounce, I’m left staring up at the same wicked grin on a handsome face.
This is just another bad guy, Haven. He’s no different from the men who have your brother.
I have to press my knees together when my body doesn’t want to agree with common sense.
“Do I need to tie you to something, or are you going to be a good girl and stay here while I figure things out?” He tilts his head, his eyes drinking me in. His smile is terrifying, all teeth, but his eyes show the first real emotion I’ve seen tonight. Pure delight.
Good girl.He’s enjoying making me stir, that’s all.
“I can’t leave here empty-handed. If I don’t get her, I can only rely on your help.” Admitting the truth, I don’t miss the satisfied hum that leaves his lips. “Is that what you want to help me? I won’t cause trouble.”
Clicking his tongue, he shakes his head. “No, that would be too simple. I’m still thinking about it. Needs to be something good enough to risk my life for. Those men your brother is with? They’re deadly.”
While I know that to be true, there’s not a lick of fear behind his words. Maybe he doesn’t know them as much as he thinks he does. Or he’s not scared of dying.
Hugging my knees to my chest, I can’t fight the shiver that shoots through me at the memory of Blaze. The scarred knuckles. The bloodied blade between his fingers.Paulie’s blood.My stomach clenches up.
Ripper moves, and I don’t realize he’s reaching for me until his fingers are already tracing my jaw, tilting it up so I’m forced to look into the storm that makes up his eyes.Thisman is dangerous. I can feel it deep in my bones.
“Did they do anything to you?” His words are soft, making my toes curl in my sneakers. When I try to jerk my eyes away so he can’t see into my soul with that intensity of his, he doesn’t allow it. “Haven.”
If this guy is the interrogating type, I bet he’s a master at getting all the answers he wants.
“They just made it clear that Paulie isn’t safe. Blaze is the impatient type.” Muttering the words, I try not to remember the sight of my brother’s face bruised and swollen, his throat sliced deep enough to bleed, but not to kill. A warning to be taken seriously.
When my eyes water instinctively, his sigh washes over me.
“No more tears. They don’t suit you.” He wipes away the water before it falls, his brows furrowing as if he genuinely doesn’t like the tears. “Someone might think I’m torturing you. I can’t help if they try to take you away.”
From the way his smile disappears, he dislikes the idea as much as I do.
Trying not to lean into his touch, I force my body back so I can wipe my face instead. Sniffing, I nod. “I’ll try. No more tears.”
I need to be strong. Stuck in a dangerous world, I’m going to let it swallow me up if I stay like this.
His smile slides back into place, but it’s not the same as the one before, and he’s now trusting enough to give me his back. “We’re not like those bastards. Sure, your situation is a little different, but we don’t harm those who don’t deserve it. Once we get a little trust going, maybe I’ll show you around?”
He’s doing it again, using his voice to coax me into believing every word he has to say.
Unfortunately, I can’t trust anyone. Especially someone who isn’t sure if they want me to help or not, without some wicked ultimatum.
“Thank you, Ripper.” Keeping my voice from wobbling, I don’t miss the look in his eye when he throws a glance over his shoulder at me. He’s not smiling, and something is swimming inhis gaze, something I don’t recognize. He doesn’t linger, slipping out of the room with the soft click of the door.
Considering that he could be on the other side, waiting to see if I try to leave, I don’t leave the bed immediately. Not until a few minutes pass. Then, once my heart has calmed, I’m on my feet.
Hoping a dangerous place like this will have some kind of weapon to protect myself with, I start snooping in hopes of finding a knife. Maybe a gun. I’ve never shot one before. Could I pull the trigger on a stranger under the right conditions?I’ll have to.
There’s a duffel bag on the floor, already unzipped. Digging through it, I don’t find anything dangerous. Just some clothes and condoms. Gross. All useless. There are dirty clothes, too, but I doubt anything is beneath them. By the time I’m lifting the mattress to see if anything is hidden, I’m panting and running out of patience.
