“Who sent you?” he growls out, eyes looking like they are burning holes right through us.
“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about?” I snap as Chino steps outside the car and walks around it, only to be met with Roman’s fist. The commotion allows me to step out and wrap my arms around Roman. But the man is a fucking animal—he thrashes around and loosens my grip on him.
“Do you just go around attacking people?” I ask, trying to hold him back from ripping Chino apart.
“ROMAN!” The woman, I assume, is her stepsister, shouts, placing a hand on her hip. Roman goes still, his jaw clenching tight as he looks at his lover, before turning his attention back to us.
“Next time, I’ll kill you.” He growls. My gaze follows his as he lands on his girl. It’s amazing how quickly her presence centers him. I feel the shift in his body as it relaxes like a dog being tamed by its owner. Releasing my grip on him and watching as he walks towards her and whispers something, grabbing her hand before she turns around.
Her thin brows knit together like she’s trying to place my face from somewhere, and then a smile spreads across her face.
“I think I know you.” My heart lurches inside my chest, blood rushing to my ears. Roman looks down at his girl; confusion etched on his face. She nods, agreeing with whatever thoughts her mind has conjured up. “Yeah, I do.”
“The fuck you do?” Roman snaps as he stalks towards her. Standing between us, as if shielding her from me. My brain finally settles, her words sinking in.
She knows me?
The only thing I can think of… is Tokyo, and that makes my heartbeat ricochet inside my chest. My stomach knots and my hands shake. I’m so close to finding her, but so scared that she’s really placed herself in the mouth of a lion. One who won’t hesitate to devour if it means protecting the five-foot-two woman beside him.
“I doubt it,” I reply, acting uninterested in what she has to say. She moves forward just as Roman’s hands wrap around her arm, pulling her into him. “NO,” he growls low, his voice like a grovel.
Chapter Three
Xena
“I’m looking for someone,” the man finally says as he stands beside the bald one who’s trying to look tough and intimidating.
“Whoever you’re looking for, I’m sure it’s not beside me.” Roman snaps.
All I can think about is that I know him. Or at least I think I do.
The chiseled features, the nose ring, those blue curls… they feel too familiar. I can’t pinpoint exactly where I have seen him, but I know I have. His hair color reminds me of Tokyo, and I wonder if this could be the guy she’s running from. But I stop insisting when I see the jealousy and possessiveness burning in Ro’s stare as his hand wraps around my arm. Roman is already on high alert, and if this is the man she’s running from.
I might have already fucked up by opening my mouth.
Plus, there’s no indication that my friend and the person he is looking for are the same person. Also, he was looking at us, and the thought makes me feel uneasy, so I let Roman drag meaway—but not before I look back at the two men behind us, imprinting their faces in my memory.
“You need to stop reacting with violence. What’s the matter?” I turn my focus back to Roman, who swings open the truck door and silently commands me inside.
He’s upset, jaws tight, brows pinched together, and I can feel the rage vibrating off his body. But I guess that’s what happens when you step out of your house and see a dead rabbit lying right in front of the door with a note saying:
“One two… I’m coming for you.”
The clear threat causes Roman to confess to a secret he’s been hiding to protect me. One that I still don’t know what to make of. Last Christmas, after the whole Vik ordeal, someone left a dead bird pinned to the door with a note saying, “I know what you did,” or something like that. I stopped listening once he admitted to lying and keeping something that serious from me.
And right now, he’s on edge, and if I hadn’t intervened, he would have rearranged those men’s faces, or worse, killed them. My nerves grow still at the thought. That’s the last thing Ro needs to be doing—he’s turned a new leaf. If I can get clean and off the drugs, well, he can stop his murderous ways and avoid going back to prison. After I climb into the truck, Roman buckles me in before slamming the door—he stares at the location of the blue Honda where the two men sit inside. He runs a hand down his face, almost as if debating with himself on what to do before he looks back at me, and I silently plead.
Holding my breath… I wait to see his next move, and thankfully, he gets in the truck, throws it into drive as he buckles his seatbelt, and peels out of the parking lot. I finally let out a shaky breath as the road stretches before us, leaves lifting into the air as we drive down the deserted roads. It’s late out—this was just supposed to be a late-night food run.
Now he’s on edge. I look at him, and butterflies dance in my stomach. We spent most of our days fixing up the cabin. And when we’re not?
We’re fucking.
“You ok?” I finally ask as he side-eyes me and growls, giving me that, ‘I’m going to punish you’look. My pussy tingles from anticipation, plus, it’s better for him to fuck his frustration out, rather than killing. We are each other’s cure and personalized drug.
My hand moves to the back of his neck, and he sighs as my hand connects with his skin.
“Xena,” he breathes.
