I nod.
The elevator is moving slowly, humming up to my floor. Now that it’s just the two of us, I’m tongue-tied. Her presence is overwhelming. My mind races with thoughts right and left, like fireworks exploding in the darkness. She’s going to need clothes since there’s only so much you can fit in the backpack. Food, too. I don’t usually keep many groceries at my place because I’m never really home. Too busy working, collecting debts, cracking skulls. Typically, I’ll pick something up on the way to or from a location if needed, only making sure I have the necessities on hand. So a fridge stocked with condiments and beer isn’t going to cut it.
When the elevator finally glides to a stop, the doors slide open. “Come on.”
I can see she’s trembling. My mouth opens to tell her it’s okay, but common sense shuts it.What good would it do, anyway?I would be afraid, too, seeing and experiencing everything that’s happened tonight. That is, if I wasn’t already used to it. But I will say, tonight’s events weren’t anything compared to the usual tactics we face.
At my door, my hands are fucking shaking as I pull out my keys.What the hell? This never happens.Not with a gun in my hand, not with a man begging for his life, not ever. But now, because I want her to trust me, because I want her to want to be here… my hands don’t fucking listen.
I finally get the door open, lights on, and she steps inside. She spins slowly, eyes wide, soaking it all in. The high ceilings, cleanfloors, and glass everywhere. Nothing like the hellhole she came from.
“So I’m staying here…with you?” Her voice is so strained, it’s like she’s fighting for every word.
“For now, yes.”
“And then what happens?”
“We’ll handle that when the time comes. For now, you’re safe here.”
Her demeanor instantly changes, and she looks at me defiantly. “I guess you make good money doing what you do.” There’s venom there, anger. She wants to hurt me, and I let her. Our eyes meet, and she looks away quickly, biting her lip.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that.” She did. We both know it. And if she were anybody else, I would snap back and demand respect, but I let it go. She’s earned it after tonight. She doesn’t deserve my anger. I deserve hers, at least from where she’s standing. She still doesn’t understand the favor I’ve done for her or the risks involved.
“I know we didn’t start off right.” I can barely get the words out. My tongue is thick and clumsy now. “But you’re safe here. Nobody’s going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.” My voice sounds rough, like I’ve been screaming. I want to say more. But I just jam my fists into my pockets instead.
She nods, barely. Biting that lip, she hides behind a curtain of golden hair. I fight the temptation of brushing that hair back, tucking it behind her ear, letting myself test the softness of her skin.
Lennon is still biting her lip, but her head bobs up and down. I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get tonight. And I’m okay with that. She’ll see. She’ll see soon enough that she’s not a prisoner, and she’ll understand that I’m a man of my word. From now on, she’s under my protection. I’ll tear the world apart before I let anything touch her.
That’s a promise.
3
LENNON
If I stacked every piece of furniture I owned, I don’t think it would fill one corner in the living room of this place. His apartment is the size of a house…hell, a planet. Cold marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and sleek black leather couches that look like nobody’s ever sat on them. I half expect the place to smell like gunpowder and old blood. Instead, it’s clean, cold, and expensive.
I don’t know what I expected. Maybe dark and empty, with peeling paint and takeout boxes. Something that matches the way he makes a living terrorizing people, the kind of shit that keeps you awake at night. But here I am, and it’s all glass and steel, and I feel out of place just breathing in it.
Jack’s watching me. I guess he’s waiting for me to see if I’m going to freak out or run. Instead, my stomach growls loudly. I hug my arms around myself.When was the last time I ate?You would think that working in a diner, I would at least get a square meal or two, but we were so busy today that I didn’t have the time. If I had it in me, I’d laugh.
“Are you hungry? I’m sure you could use something to eat.” I don’t want to need anything from him. Not even a glass of water.But I can’t help the way my gut twists at the thought of food. I mean, he’s handsome…gorgeous, even, with his dark hair and the heavy brows that frame his icy, deep-set eyes, but can I trust him?
He watches me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m about to grab a knife from the kitchen block and stick it in his neck. Which I wouldn’t. One, I don’t have the nerve, but two, I can’t shake the feeling I got earlier when I placed my hand in his. Like, somehow, everything was going to be okay, even if I didn’t have proof.
I finally give him a little nod, and he jerks his chin toward the kitchen.
“Come on. Sit.”
I climb up on a barstool, keeping my back straight, arms crossed, ready to move if I have to. He rummages through his fridge, and I can’t help but let my eyes wander over broad shoulders moving under that faded T-shirt, jeans hanging just right off his hips. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to stare at the way his ass looks when he bends down, solid and unfairly good for a guy who goes around terrifying people for a living.God, get a grip, Lennon.
“What about an omelet?” he asks, checking the date on the carton.
“Really, you don’t have to go to any trouble,” I mumble.
This is all so weird. How do you talk to the man who has essentially kidnapped you, after witnessing him holding a gun to your father’s head?
“It’s no trouble. I could use something to eat, too. I can’t say the fridge is well stocked, but…” He holds up the eggs and cheese, and shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I can make breakfast.”
