Page 34 of Allegiant

Samson sighs. “What if he talks? Just because you didn’t know who I was doesn’t mean my face isn’t recognizable.”

I sigh, meeting the eyes of the man who is now a deathly shade of pale. “You’re not going to talk, right? You’d be stupid to tell anyone about this, considering you were the one to commit the crime first.”

The man shakes his head as much as he can under Samson’s grip. “No. I swear. I’m no snitch.”

Always makes me laugh that that’s where criminals draw the line. Happy to threaten, mug, and assault innocent people. But snitching? Absolute hard pass.

Samson still hasn’t released him, so I step forward until I’m at his side. My hand doesn’t shake as I raise it to Samson’s arm. The one holding the knife. “Please. Let him go. For me.”

It’s a risk. I don’t mean anything to Samson other than a fun time in the bedroom, but he likes me enough to sit through a meal with me. To let me meet Nonna.

To my surprise, his muscles relax. He nods, finally releasing the man, who falls to the ground, choking down air. My heart leaps into my throat as Samson crouches next to him and holds out the knife, this time pressing it against his neck.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he growls. “Do you hear me? Because next time, he won’t be with me and I won’t stop at your tongue.”

Samson waits until the guy nods in confirmation before removing the knife. He gets up slowly, never looking away from our would-be mugger. The man scrambles to his feet, cradling his broken wrist as he hurries out of sight.

I watch him go, my gaze oscillating between him and Samson, who is picking up my dance bag and brushing it off. He places it over his shoulder and sweeps a hand down his shirt.

His gaze settles on me, sliding over my whole body once, like he’s checking me over. When he’s satisfied I’m fine, it goes to the bag of food in my hand. “Good. You saved the cannoli. It’s to die for.”

I can’t help but laugh at the horror of it all. He can’t be serious, can he?

But as he leads me forward, my legs trembling slightly, I think he just might be.

That should scare me off. It really fucking should.

But, strangely, I’ve never felt safer in my life.

9

ROWAN

After what just happened, I really shouldn’t be leading Samson into my apartment.

I should be scared of him, I know that. But my mind keeps fixating on the tiny details. How Samson took control of the situation when I froze. The complete lack of fear he exhibited.

Because he knew he’d get us out of it safely.

His threats of violence didn’t worry me as much as they should have. They were on my behalf, after all. Who doesn’t want a man threatening bodily harm to protect them?

Most of all, what has me quietly accepting this part of him is how he stepped away and let the guy go.

Simply because I asked him to.

I drop to my knees to release Nugget from his crate. I messaged Larry on my way home, letting him know I’d be picking the demon dog up shortly. I came here first because I suspected Larry would bring him home for me instead.

The lengths he goes to so as not to interact with me. I’d be offended, but I know he loves me deep down.

Deep, deep, deep down.

“Hey, Nuggs!” I croon. His long body is vibrating as he yaps in excitement. “Did you miss me?”

As soon as the door to his crate is open, my arms are full of wriggling dachshund. He continues yapping loudly. I like to imagine he’s telling me all about his day—the things he’s chewed, the cuddles with Larry.

“I missed you too,” I say, hugging him tightly and scratching behind his ears. “I’m home now, buddy.”

I feel Samson’s presence behind me.