Rolling to my knees and elbows, I began army crawling to the front pews, away from the horse. I had one mission only—survival.
I didn’t make it more than two feet before a rough hand grabbed the collar of my dress from above. It tossed me forward with force. I sailed from beneath the pew and across the room, my stomach burning with the friction. My shoulder crashed against the wall. Pain exploded everywhere. White dots filled my vision. I choked back a sob.
A body at least twice my size landed on top of me, pinning me to the floor. Achilles’s masculine scent invaded my senses. He covered me from above, his forearms protecting my face, his legs locking mine in place so I was completely shielded.
I wanted to thank him but knew he’d taunt me if I said anything. The few times I’d tried to explain myself to him had been met with ridicule and cruelty.
A few moments passed before I realized the bastard was hard.
His cock pressed against my ass cheeks through our clothes, thick and long, threatening to rip the fabric between us.
I didn’t know if it was the violence or me that brought him to arousal—probably both. I shifted, trying to escape the sensation of him. Not because it was unpleasant but because I couldn’t bear to get turned on by the man who ruined my life on a daily basis.
“Stay fucking put,” he growled.
“Tell your dick to stop harassing me, then,” I bit back.
“Don’t read into it.” Chuckling, he ground against my ass, just to piss me off. “We’re exes.”
“Exes who never had sex.”
“Yet.”
“Never.”
“Soon,” he volleyed back with a lazy drawl.
“Get off me.”
“No. But if you don’t shut up, I’ll get offonyou just to teach you a lesson.”
“I’m going to put a bullet in your goddamn head.” He knew I’d do it.
“If I roll off you now, the next explosion is gonna get you. And it’s coming,” he ground out impatiently. “Do you want to die?”
I didn’t. That was the truth of it. I wanted to live, even if I didn’t have much to live for.
“What’s it going to be, then?” he taunted.
“Fine, I guess you can be my human shield,” I huffed. “Better you than me.”
“Piccola Fiamma.” His breath fanned the back of my neck, hot and whiskey laced. His heartbeat against my spine was slow and even. “I promise you, if someone were to take your useless life, it’d be me.”
A powerful explosion erupted. Walls rattled, windows shattered, and sizzling heat engulfed us in a ring of fire.
Everything turned black, but I knew I’d survive.
Everyone had a guardian angel.
Mine just happened to be my stalker.
Chapter Two
Then
She was fourteen when they first met.
Had only been in the country for barely two months.
