Things are always so much easier when I’m alone.
“You need to go to the police,” he says.
“No.”
“You think this is some debate? Those fucks are gonna come back, and next time?—”
“I said no,” I answer plainly. Then I meet his gaze again with a beat of irritation suddenly riling me up. “The cops can’t protect me! If anything, they’ll make itworse. There are dirty cops all over the NYPD. The second I walk into a precinct, someone’s going to tip off the Bratva. I’d be found by morning. Dead by the evening.”
His scowl deepens as if I’m being difficult on purpose. “Fine. Then a women’s shelter. There’re places that?—”
“No shelters either,” I say with a stubborn shake of my head. I take a wide step back from him. “You think I haven’t been to shelters? They’re not safe. How can they be when the staff there tries to prey on you too? The fact is,nowhereis safe. Just... leave me alone, okay? I don’t need your help.”
I spot the knife I had pulled earlier and scoop it up off the floor, gripping the handle as if it’s truly a formidable weapon and not a dull kitchen blade.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it handled.”
I’m about to turn and head to the back when Killian’s hand shoots out. I yelp at how fast he moves, how he goes from standing still one second to grabbing hold of me the next.
His fingers clip my chin between them, and he jerks my face up toward his. His grip isn’t painful, but it’s definitely firm enough I can’tpull away.
He tilts my head to the side to study the bruise forming on my cheek.
“Doesn’t look like you do,” he grunts.
“Turns out appearances can be deceiving.”
I try to yank my face away, but he holds me in place for another second before finally letting go.
On his terms.
A fact of life I bet most people in his orbit must abide by.
“It’s either the shelter or the police station,” he says. “Take your pick, girl. But you’re not fucking staying here alone. Those Russian assholes’ll be back the second they can walk straight, and next time they might bring friends.”
“I can’t help that. But I’m telling you, if you take me to either one of those places, I’m gone.” I glare back at him, nostrils flaring and grip still tight on the kitchen knife. “The second you turn your back, I’ll disappear. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again.”
We stare at each other, both too hardheaded to back down. We’re locked in a battle of wills, refusing to so much as blink or we’ll lose.
Then Killian heaves a deep breath, releasing it with a frustrated growl worthy of a beast. He scrubs a hand over his bearded face as if it pains him to say what he does next.
“Fine. C’mon then.”
My brows knit, startled he’s the one whohasblinked first. “Umm… what?”
“You heard me.” He grabs my hand and turns toward the same pub table he’d been seated at earlier, snatching up a ring of keys he must’ve left behind. Then he’s heading for the door with me in tow. “You’re coming with me.”
“Coming with you where?” I stumble after him, too stunned to resist. “What are you talking about? Let go of me! Are you insane?”
“Probably.”
He doesn’t slow down, and he definitely doesn’t bother sparing me a look from over his broad, muscled shoulder. He simply keeps dragging me toward the exit.
“I can’t leave you here alone tonight,” he goes on. “But you’re obviously a fucking pain in the ass who is refusing to go to the police station. So for tonight at least, you’re coming home with me.”
It’s as if cold water has been splashed on me. It jolts me awake as I dig my heels in and try to stop our forward momentum.
“Oh no, I’m not?—”
