“I’m just going to clean it,” I said, crouching down. “That’s all.”
She flinched slightly when I shifted the towel higher, but she didn’t pull away.
I cleaned the wound with slow, gentle pressure, wiping around the torn skin first, then directly over it. She winced and gripped the counter beneath her but said nothing.
The cut was superficial. Thankfully it wouldn’t need stitches.
Still, it made me want to put a bullet through every man who’d touched her—at least any of those not already dead and frying as the club burned to the ground.
When I finished, I stood and gently cupped her cheeks. “Time for a hot bath and a long soak. It’ll help.”
She remained perched on the vanity, mostly covered by the towel, hands folded in her lap, watching me.
I turned the knobs and filled the tub, adding a generous dose of lavender-scented Epsom salts. The calming aroma filled the room quickly. I laid two fresh towels nearby and dimmed the lights a notch.
She hadn’t looked away from me once.
I leaned in and braced my hands on either side of her legs.
“Can you take it from here?” I asked. “Or do you need help getting in?”
Her lashes fluttered. Her gaze finally broke away from mine.
“I can do it,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
I nodded and turned to leave.
“Wait!” she called out.
I turned back.
She slipped off the counter and rushed forward, the towel falling to the floor. Her arms wrapped around my waist, and she buried her face in my chest.
I froze, then carefully patted her back.
“Thank you for saving me,” she said with a sniff. “If you hadn’t come…they would have sold me. I—I would’ve been gone. Some monster’s property.” Her voice cracked.
I remained still, because I didn’t trust myself to hold her any tighter.
She didn’t belong in my world.
She deserved a knight.
Not a killer in the shadows.
But, fuck me, I wanted her.
Right then. Right there.
My hands were stained with blood, but all I wanted was to put them on her. Claim her. Take what was mine.
Her innocence and vulnerability made me weak in a way I hated. As I looked at the towel at her feet, felt her bare skinpressed against me, and inhaled the scent of her, the edges of my control started to fray.
I should’ve stepped away the second her arms started to wrap around me.
But I didn’t.
Because a dark part of me—the bratva-born part—wanted to mark her. Ruin her.
