“Stella, I had no idea…”
“Nor should you,” she’s quick to add. I can tell my brave yet broken angel didn’t intend to tell me all of that, but I’m thankful for every crumb of her story I can get “I… I wasn’t supposed to… just forget I said anything, okay?”
“I can’t. Iwon’t,” I vow. I want to say a million things, like how I’ll snap the neck of every person who hurt her, lied to her, or ignored her cries for help. I don’t give a fuck if they’relaw enforcement. However, I reel in my possessive thoughts and tuck them away for when the immediate threat has passed.
Stella sighs heavily, as if already exhausted of our argument. "Look, I don't need a guardian, Easton. I need my files."
She tries to dart past me again, and this time, I move faster. I catch her, my hands sweeping up to pin her against the granite counter, trapping her between the stone and my body.
I tower over her, our gazes locked. Her nostrils flare and her jaw tightens, and for a moment I think the little spitfire might headbutt me. Stella huffs out a frustrated breath, but doesn’t try to escape.
The sudden proximity makes the air in the kitchen turn thick and heavy with the scent of coffee and an undeniable, scorching current of sexual tension. She goes rigid, her breath hitching as she looks up at me. That defiant mask of hers is finally starting to crack under my stare.
Her eyes widen, searching mine, and I see the exact moment her resolve wavers. Stella’s stubbornness melts into something raw and vulnerable, though I know she’d never admit it. My girl wants to be taken care of, she wants to be able to trust me, but she doesn’t know how.
I get it. Fuck, do I get it. There’s a reason I clawed my way up from the depths of poverty and started my own company with the sole purpose of protecting people, and it sure as hell isn’t because life was great and I trusted authority figures.
This fragile moment is suspended in time as I figure out what to say. When I lean down, my voice is a dark rumble near her ear. "I’m the only reason you’re still breathing. You’re going to stay right here, under my eye, until I say it’s safe."
The silence stretches, taut and electric. She looks ready to fight, ready to bite, but I see the way she’s leaning into me, despite herself. Her head tilts back, revealing the sensitive skinof her neck. Without thinking, brush my nose and lips over her pulsepoint, followed by my scratchy beard.
She trembles at the tickling sensation, and I groan internally at how sweet her surrender is going to be. I’m just about to push a little further, to see if I can get her to admit she’s not as invincible as she pretends, when?—
CRACK.
The high-pitched, jarring chirp of the comms system cuts through the tension like a blade. Miller’s voice comes through, clipped and frantic.
"Easton, we've got a problem. Syndicate scouts just flagged a vehicle registered near Stella's apartment. It’s a sweep team. The countdown has officially begun.”
5
STELLA
My heart is hammering against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm born half from Easton’s overwhelming physical proximity and half from the cold dread pooling in my stomach. Miller’s voice still echoes through the comms, but the reality has already set in: my apartment, my ultimate safe space, is compromised.
Is it hot in here? Has this room always been so small? My throat is raw and swollen, and it feels like I’m breathing through a straw. I steady myself with a hand against the cool countertop, but it does little to keep the walls from closing in on me.
“Got it, Miller. I’ll call when we’re at the safe house,” comes Easton’s voice. It sounds far away and fuzzy. “Hear that, Stella? …Stella?”
When I don’t respond, he turns around. Easton’s face remains hard and solid, but his brown eyes soften when he sees the embarrassing state I’m in. Why can’t I seem to keep my shit together around him?
My stubborn bodyguard takes a few slow strides toward me, until he’s standing a few feet away. I appreciate the space he’s giving me, especially since I already feel suffocated.
“I promised I’d keep you safe, remember?” he asks, his voice soft yet firm. “As long as I’m next to you, nothing bad will happen.”
I shake my head no, but the motion makes the room spin. I grip the counter, then lean into the familiar, warm embrace of Easton. He has a hand resting on the small of my back, gently guiding me to lean against him instead of the counter.
My body remains rigid for all of two seconds before I tuck my head under his chin and let the mountain of a man hold me. Like always, the world doesn’t feel so scary and lonely when I’m wrapped up in Easton’s arms.
“We’re going to a safe house,” he says as he straightens up and takes a few steps back.
The mention of going to an even more secluded place where I most definitely won’t be able to go outside or contact anyone in my life, has fire roaring through my veins. I don’t feel weak and lost anymore.
“I hardly agreed to comeherewith you. What makes you think I’d agree to another move?”
“We’re going, Stella. This is non-negotiable.”
I roll my eyes while Easton puts on a black tactical vest and proceeds to gather up more guns and other weapons than I’ve ever seen at one time. “I thought you said as long as you’re next to me, nothing bad will happen. Look, you’re right next to me now, so there’s no need to go anywhere else, right?”
