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My heart seizes. Fresh panic swells in my throat. I can’t get cops involved in my life. If they found out that I stole a car, they’d stick me in a jail cell. I’m only just getting a taste of freedom, and while it’s been hell, it’s still better than being cooped up by someone who wants to hurt me. The police would only make things worse.
“No cops,” I say, hoping I don’t sound as panicked as I feel.
Before I can spiral even more, I feel a large, warm hand on my shoulder.
“That’s fine, sweetheart. No cops,” the man says, his tone warm. I find myself leaning into his touch, drawn to the warmth of his body. He runs his thumb against my shoulder in a soothing motion. My skin heats, and not just where he’s touching me. “What about help? Do you need help?”
I’ve never felt anything like this before. What is it?
“I know you’ve had a shock tonight, but I need you to stay with me, sweetheart. Can I take you somewhere? Pay for your bus fare?”
I look up at him, shocked at his kindness. How do I answer? Why is he being so kind to me?
His handsome gaze meets mine, and he gives me the barest hint of a smile. It makes my heart flutter in my chest. When I don’t answer him once more, he slides his hand down my arm and curls it around my own, his palm engulfing my hand.
“What’s your name?”
Okay, that I can answer without any trouble. “Renee Winters,” I say quietly.
The man lets go of me and reaches into his suit jacket’s breast pocket. I miss the warmth of his touch instantly the loss of his warm hand.
What’s a man like him doing in a place like this? Sure, it’s not like this area is particularly dangerous, but it’s not really nice either. He seems almost out of place here, but he’s got an unbothered confidence in his body that I can’t help admiring. Everything about him seems put-together, and yet I get the sense that there’s something lurking under the carefully arranged surface.
The worst thing is that seeing something like that in him should make me want to run away.
Instead, I only want to know more.
Who is this man, and why is he helping me?
Chapter Three
Santino
I’m not a good man. I’d never claim to be one.
But what I’ve been doing over the past few days? It’s perhaps one of the most twisted things I’ve ever done.
I’m following her. I’m following the little woman who has me under her spell, and I have no desire to stop. My obsession runs deep.
I’m sure my head should be other places. It’s been days since the warehouse fire, and we still haven’t rooted out the rat that sabotaged it. Marco insists he’s making headway with the interrogations, so I’ve let him do whatever he needs to do.
And with that time, I’ve lurked in the shadows, pursuing Rene like the beast I am.
Ever since I first saw her, I’ve become even more invested in whatever this is. Is it fucked up that I’m so gripped by her existence? Maybe. But the animal within me is hellbent on watching her every move and ensuring her safety.
To her, I’m little more than a demon in the shadows, something always at the edge of her sight. A man she met just once.
To me, she’s everything.
She’s mine.
And as soon as I learn what exactly it is she’s hiding from? I’m going to show her that she’s mine, and that there’s nowhere safer for her than the place she deserves at my side.
The very thought of having her for real has my body tightening with need. I push the distraction away, tempting as it is to take myself in hand and fuck my fist raw. But as far as I’m concerned, when my eyes are on my little dove, there’s nowhere else my mind should be.
Now that she’s right in front of me, however?
I feel like I’m powerless against her softness, her grace. Her big, dark blue eyes look up at me, wide with curiosity and perhaps a little bit of fear. Good. She should be scared of me, even if it’s just a little bit. I’m a dangerous, powerful man—while I’d never ever hurt her, the things I’d do to protect her are heinous and would strike terror in the hearts of even the strongest man.
