Alexei looks ready to kill. “Glen’s back. He wants Rowan.”
“Excuse me?” I stand slowly. “He wants what?”
“Rowan. He won’t take no for an answer.” He gestures toward the open door. “He’s losing his shit down there. Screaming that he wants her, and he won’t leave until he gets what he paid for.”
I’ll fucking kill him.
My arm sweeps over the desk, scattering everything across the floor. It doesn’t do anything to calm the rage burning through me, white-hot flames scorching me from the inside out. To think he believes he deserves to touch her. To breathe the same air. She’s so far above him; it’s amazing he can even see her.
“I want him taken care of.” I’m staring down at my desk and the wreckage all over the floor. “Now. Get him out of here and see to it he doesn’t come back. He’s not welcome here anymore.” I lift my head, my eyes meeting his, so he knows I’m serious. “And if anybody else even thinks about touching her, I’ll kill them—all of them. I want you to make sure everybody understands that from here on out. Got it?”
“Got it.” There’s even what sounds like satisfaction in his voice. The door clicks shut, and I’m alone with my rage.
There’s only one way to quiet it. Not calling one of the girls up to dance for me. Not fucking someone, anyone, no matter how nasty I decide to get.
I decide to drive myself rather than asking one of the men to do it. They’ll be busy with Glen. One less problem for me to think about. It isn’t like we’re hurting for the money he gladly hands over. And it’s not as if there aren’t ten freaks right behind him, glad to hand over any amount of money so long as they can get what they need.
It’s late, at least for people whose work is done in the daytime. For me, eleven o’clock might as well be morning. It’s the time things begin to get interesting around the club. Yet most so-called normal people are inside, watching the news or something just as boring at this time of night. Traffic is light as a result, and it takes no more than a few minutes for me to reach Rowan’s building.
There’s a light burning in her window. She’s still awake. I don’t know what to do now—for once, I didn’t have the next step planned in advance. I want to go up there, but something tells me that would only make things worse. I don’t need her using that expensive new alarm system to bring the cops over.
As it turns out, she makes up my mind for me. I’ve just decided to watch her window, to soothe myself with the knowledge that Rowan is safe and maybe jerk off in the car to relieve my tension when the front door to the building swings open and she steps out. She doesn’t notice me, making a right turn at the bottom of the steps and heading down the sidewalk at a quick clip.
I can’t stop myself from getting out of the car and calling out to her over the hood. “Rowan.”
She stops dead, eyes going round when she spots me coming her way. “Stop. Leave me alone.”
I finish rounding the car but stay back before she can scream and alert a passing driver. “What are you doing, going out at this time of night?”
She blinks rapidly, frowning. “I wanted a pint of ice cream and milk for tomorrow morning. What’s it to you?”
Her flash of anger is a turn-on, honestly. I’d normally warn a woman against talking to me that way but coming from her, it’s refreshing. I don’t even blame her for it. Hell, I’m surprised she even says a word to me. This is better than nothing.
She’s waiting for a response. “It’s not safe for you to walk around at this time of night.”
“I’m going to the corner.” She folds her arms. “By the way, thanks for breaking into my apartment and having that furniture delivered. And the alarm system, very generous. I didn’t ask for any of that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s what you deserve.”
“What about last night? Is that what I deserved?”
“I can make it up to you.”
She snickers. “Come on. Do you know who that sounds like? I’ve heard it before. I’ll never do it again. I’ll make it up to you.” She holds up her hands, backing away. “No offense, but I’m not trying to get myself into the same fucked-up nightmare all over again.”
“It wouldn’t be like that.”
“That’s so easy to say.”
“It’s the truth. I’m not that kind of man. You should know that by now.”
“I don’t know any such thing. You lied to me. You told me what I wanted to hear so you could have what you wanted.” Now she wraps her arms around herself, and I realize she’s shaking. “You haven’t proved you’re a good man. I don’t want to stick around and find out what else you’re capable of.”
“I’ll prove it, then. We can come up with a new arrangement, and you can have a say in it.” I have to hold back before I start babbling like some frantic idiot. She has far too much power over me, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m too far gone.
For a moment, I think she might come around. It looks like she wants to. Like she’s fighting with herself because, at her core, she knows I’m telling the truth. Because she wants it to be the truth.
“Rowan. You can trust me.” I reach for her—sure she’ll let me touch her—but she flinches away, shaking her head.
