With a slow nod, he says, “That’s fair. Next time, I’ll make sure you’re apprised before I make a move like that.”
I look away from his gaze, down to the tattoos on his chest. I feel like he’d know deception if I looked him in the eyes for the next part. “So, the FBI raided the club. Are we in trouble?”
“I don’t think so,” he says. “I expect there’ll be a few minor charges. None of our security are squeaky clean. At least half of the dancers have their own rap sheets. Anything really damning wasn’t on the premises.”
“Not even from your deal? I mean, what if there was somebody working undercover or something?”
“I don’t think there were.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’m lying in bed with you instead of in a jail cell,” he says with a gentle smile. He runs his rough hands up my arm and a chill runs down my spine and settles in the base of my spine. The way he touches me just to get me warmed up should be studied.
“What about your arm?” I ask. “Did one of the FBI agents do that to you?”
His smile fades. “That’s a little more complicated.”
“So complicated that you can’t talk about it?”
He pauses, then, “I’m still working out what’s going on, exactly. If I’m quiet about it, that’s why. I need to get a handle on it before I start sharing my thoughts.”
That makes sense, I suppose. “Once you do get a handle on it, you’ll talk to me, right?”
“Yes.” His hand slides around my waist, giving me a sort of security blanket feeling. “Just in case, though, I want to make sure you’re safe. That’s why I need you to move in with me as soon as possible. Your apartment is nowhere near as secure as it’s going to need to be in the coming days.”
“‘Coming days’? What does that mean, exactly? Is this something that’s going to go on for a while?”
“Ember, baby, I need you to trust me for right now. Okay? I just want you to be safe. And here in this house, you’re safer with me than anyone else on this planet. No matter what happens.”
He sounds absolutely sure. Like how could there ever be a question of that? I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who had that kind of confidence over a dicey situation like this.
I believe him, though. This man will keep me safe at all costs.
“Okay,” I say. “It’s going to take me some time to get my things together.”
“For now, I’m going to have my brother take you to get your essentials. Later, I’ll have a crew pack up the rest of your stuff. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
His hand moves up my back and he pulls me down to him, kissing me deeply. As he bites my bottom lip gently, he whispers, “Just stay with me, Ember. I’ll always keep you safe.”
I melt in his arms as his hands slip into my panties and he grabs my ass cheeks. Warm connection blooms in my chest as I feel him get hard against my stomach.
I believe him. It’s insane that I do. But I believe every word he says.
Ares didn’t say toomuch to me as he escorted me back to my apartment, and I didn’t ask too much of him. I did find myself sneaking peeks over at him in the car, seeing so much of Roman in his features. It’s a little eerie how much he looks like him. He’s smaller in muscle and stature and his hair is much longer and usually in a ponytail, but he’s got the same intense ocean blue eyes and stone cold expression. Colder, actually. When we walked into the building, he was looking everywhere but at me, keeping his eye out, I guess. He behaved as Roman had instructed him to. As my protection. From what? That’s the million-dollar question.
We’re in the apartment and he’s standing by the door waiting for me as I go around and grab the basics. I fill a suitcase with as many clothes as I can, grab my toiletries and a few other simple things that will fit snugly in the suitcase, and we’re back out the door. As we leave, I take a glance at Natasha’s door, wanting to tell her goodbye. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and I don’t know if I’ll even be able to talk to her once I’m back at Roman’s. The way Ares rushes me along, it seems like there won’t be any time for that at all.
In the car, it occurs to me to ask him, “Is there somebody looking for me?”
He glances over at me as he puts the car into drive. “You talk to Roman about that?”
I should have expected that answer. “It came up,” I say.
“Hmm. Probably a good idea not to ask too many questions,” he says.
“I gathered. But don’t you think it’s important that I know if somebody’s after me? Maybe I can look out for them too.”
He snickers in the same way that Roman does when I say something he finds silly and replies, “You’ve got the brotherhood to look out for you now. It’s not your concern anymore.”
