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Beyond the physical attraction that ensnared my entire being these days, things with her were easy. We had our movie nights, our similar taste in music and cars. If she weren’t the girl I’d taken in and helped shape into the beautiful woman she was, I wondered if I’d still object to making her mine.
The age gap of twenty years was a little daunting, but stranger things had happened, right? I hadn’t properly dated since before Vanessa, so it was hard to say, but the girls I took home from clubs and bars were always young. But never as young as Julietta.
For a minute, I allowed myself to picture taking her out on dates. Laughing with her. Holding her close. Cooking with her, since I knew how much she loved to cook.
A pain stabbed me in the chest so sudden, I blinked away the daydream. Not only could I picture building a relationship with her, I ached for it too.
She was interesting, and a damn good fighter.
“Fuck,” I snarled.
Suddenly remembering I was meant to be waiting for Jackie, who still hadn’t arrived, I jammed the intercom button on my desk.
“Call down to the lobby and see if Jackie Resinski is still down there,” I ordered, none too nicely.
Melissa’s voice chirped back, “Sure thing.” She was used to my moods. Maybe it was time to give her a raise.
My phone vibrated. I turned it over, staring down at the screen. A message from Julietta.
My stomach did some weird backflip shit like I was a schoolboy with a high school crush. Opening the message, I read the words: I heard a weird noise in the basement and went down to check it out. There’s a burst pipe.
A few seconds later, another message appeared. Turned off the water to the basement so I can clean it up.
Getting to my feet, I was typing a reply when the words Oh, Aaron and Kieran are here. I’ll just have them help fix it, don’t rush popped up.
My fist tightened around the phone until the plastic groaned. No way was I leaving Julietta alone with them.
Castiel had the SUV, but I still had the Mustang here. I responded with: I don’t want you alone with them, do you understand? Tell them I’m on my way and to get the fuck out.
I was behind the wheel, speeding back downtown, but still she hadn’t even read my message. My growl was low, and violence churned in my veins.
If I got there and either of them had touched her, I’d kill them.
Being forced to face the reality that one day some man would put his hands on her had me fuming and breaking every traffic law in existence to get to her quicker.
They weren’t going to touch what was mine to protect. I owed it to Vanessa to keep my hands—as well as the hands of men who were just as depraved as me—off her daughter.
Julietta couldn’t know what we truly were. If she saw the blood that coated my hands, she’d stay far away from me. Which is exactly what I needed. Even if I hated myself for it.
Chapter Twenty
JULIETTA
Two days after the text to the guys, the doorbell chimed at almost seven o’clock. I froze, looking over at the mirror as I inspected myself for the five-hundredth time. The blood-red wrap dress that I’d been able to pick up from Arie’s house brushed the floor while hugging every inch of my body.
Hurrying from the room, I swept down the stairs and crossed the living room to open the door.
“Hey, beautiful,” Eli said, flashing me a wink. He looked so good with his hair up yet again, this time wearing a full, deep blue suit and silver tie. Behind him stood Kieran, Darren, Aaron, and Rafael.
Fuck, were they all models or something?
“This is how you all dress after getting off an airplane?” I asked with a hint of awe. They all wore suits. None of them as boldly colored as Eli’s, but equally as powerful. Yet I had no fucking clue what they even did. Kieran had told me Rafael had headed back to Russia on urgent business, while Aaron had gone to Mexico, and Darren to New York.
It hadn’t occurred to me that they didn’t actually live in California full-time.
Darren nodded. “We managed to stall Romeo at his office with a fake fire, but I’m certain he’s figured it out by now.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist as if to confirm that. I tried, and failed, to suppress my smile at Darren’s nickname for Romero.
“I sent him the text about the pipes, so I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,” I offered.
