She’s inmy arms,limp against my chest, and I’m filled with the deepest rage I’ve ever felt in my exhausting, minacious life. The feeling takes on a physical pain; the twist of a dull knife in soft, pliable skin. It’s like I’m strapped to a chair, helplessly enduring the decimation of my own body. The sensation is quite unusual. Foreign.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look she gave me, hurling towards my arms on wobbling legs, a single tear carving its path down her cheek.
She moved to me like I was her salvation.
And I have never been anyone’s salvation.
The deadweight of her body settles meaningfully in my arms as I look down at the useless piss-stain my men hold flush to the floor.
One thing’s for sure. I won’t behissalvation.
“This is a mistake! My girlfriend just got a little loose with her liquor tonight. I’m just gonna take her home, we won’t cause you anymore?—”
The heel of my shoe pressed to his cheek silences the incessant speech, and I gradually increase the pressure, devouring a sick joy from the gasp of pain that falls from his mouth.
Joy.
Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this many emotions in my entire life. Father would roll in his shallow grave.
“Take him out back. I’ll meet you there.” I instruct my second, dismissing the dead-man-walking as an issue for later. One I’ll deeply enjoy resolving.The boy tries to yell out as he’s pulled away, but my men are faster. Barely a squeal escapes the fool’s lips before he’s shoved out the guarded back entrance.
Finally able to provide my undivided attention to the woman gracing my arms, I carefully maneuver one arm beneath her legs and lift her to my chest. Unease flickers through me as I recall the last words she spoke before allowing her eyelashes to drift shut.
Drugged. Me.
I had been trying my hardest to give her the space she seemed to require after our moment in the back hall.
I’ve never been the best with people. Sure, I was born like this to a certain degree, but I’ve spent my entire life being trained, broken, and reshaped into the role of the family’s enforcer. My brother was the one trained to be the diplomat.The people person.
It never occurred to bother me.
With my particular temperament, I was better suited to my role in the darkness, obtaining information and taking care of our less honorable issues. Yet, these days, with what’s left of Nikolai rotting ten feet under alongside dear old dad, I’m realizing I might not be the best equipped for the more social aspects of leadership.
In the hall, she seemed so damn scared. The last thing I wanted was for her to run from me. I’m still not quite sure what I want with the little spitfire, but I know for certain that I’m not willing to let her disappear once more into the streets of New York. I thought, perhaps, a bit ofdistance would make her feel more secure. Then I could try to approach her again.
When I saw what I had thought was harmless flirting between her and the piece of shit I just kicked out back, I was suddenly overcome with anger.
The response was contradictory to everything I am. I’m not a guy who does jealousy. I can barely stand the feeling of physical touch on my skin, and I don’t ever get attached to the few sexual partners I entertain here and there.
Why the hell would this girl be any different?
The odd reaction brought me a source of discomfort I hadn’t wanted to examine.
So, I turned.
I turned my back on her.
And though this is the one place where she should have been safe, I couldn’t even save her from one low-baller threat.
I gather her long curls over her shoulder and readjust her against me. Her head lolls onto my chest, relaxing into the new position with the vulnerable trust of unconsciousness. Steady puffs of air blow against my shirt collar, calming the unusual tempest of emotions flowing through me.
It’s strange how someone can go through their whole life feeling little to nothing, yet face an onslaught of panic, horror, and relief at the collapse of this small woman. I guess I’ve finally gone mad.
To be fair, it was a long time in the making.
Paying no heed to the lingering crowd of onlookers, I stroll out the side entrance, making my way to the parking garage.
As expected, Ivan lingers in the lot, awaiting my next order. He happens to be the only one of my staff who knows who exactly is cradled in my arms right now, and just how hard I’ve been trying to find her. He’s sat beside me, going through stacks of useless PI reports into the late hours of the night.
