Page 57 of The Fixer

Instead, I did everything I could to support her. Bringing her to the shelter to help Meg. Toting boxes and bags into the venue as they worked hard to set everything up, despite how hard it was for me to let her out of my sight.

There hadn’t been any more cars following us through the city streets, but that didn’t mean I’d let down my guard. It only made me more diligent, watching every stranger that walked by, eyeing every vehicle that pulled in behind me as I drove.

At least there was Meg. Though we didn’t speak about it, the woman and I had come to an understanding. We didn’t leave Eliza unattended. One of us was with her at all times.

By the night of the gala, Eliza was exhausted, yet happier than I’d ever seen her. She walked the ballroom as if she owned it, head held high, greeting each guest as if she knew them personally. Talking with every one of them and thanking them both for their time and their contribution to the cause. Hope lived inside of her, the shelter a cause so close to her heart. A piece of her mother’s legacy continuing on, both inside of her and in Hope.

Eliza turned a dazzling smile my way after saying goodbye to some guests. She swept across the short distance between us, covered in green silk.

“Look at you,” I murmured in her ear as I pulled her into my arms. “The most beautiful woman in the entire room.”

She buried her face into my chest, then skimmed her hands over my shoulders as she edged back, looking up. “All thanks to you and this dress.”

Fuck. That dress left little to the imagination, the silk draping loosely over her form. The plunge of the neckline gave me a view of those fucking freckles, the cinnamon sugar flecks sprinkled across her breasts. I tightened my fingers over the bare skin of her back, wanting to hold her close and never let her go.

A Christmas present I was dying to unwrap. The sweetest treat I was dying to taste.

“You’d look beautiful in a paper sack, sweet girl. You’re fucking glowing.” I tucked a curled lock of red hair behind her ear, then ran my thumb along the base of her jaw. “Your mother would be so proud of you.”

I hated the sadness that flickered in her eyes, the loss from nine years ago still so fresh and new. She ducked her chin before lifting it, gifting me with a sad smile.

“This charity meant so much to her,” she told me, voice shaky but not weak. “After what her father did to her growing up, she vowed to spend her life helping those who were in similar situations. Women who didn’t have people like my dad who would step in and pull them out.”

Her gaze fell, her hand moving from my shoulder to touch the bow tie at my neck, then sliding down the fabric covering the buttons on my shirt. My stomach clenched, desire flooding my bloodstream. It was getting harder and harder to hold back, to keep from touching her in ways I didn’t deserve. I pulled her close, hands cradling her body against mine.

“You’re like him,” she murmured against my neck. “You’ve saved me the way my father saved her.”

“Eliza—”

“It’s true, Jet.” She squeezed her arms around me, her lips grazing the skin of my neck. A cold shudder shook me. “You’ve saved me.”

Disbelief spun and swirled. I blinked, pulled my head up and caught Santini staring at us from the corner of the room.

There was no way I could trust Eliza’s safety to just myself. The night Brooke had told Eliza she couldn’t make it home, I’d called Santini while the girl talked with Meg. Ever the loyal soldier, he promised me his help, jumping at the possibility of getting away from his uncle’s restaurant and back at my side. As requested, he was staying out of sight, riding the shadows and keeping an eye out.

Just wished he wasn’t eyeing us at the moment.

“Dance with me,” I whispered against her cheek, taking her hand and wrapping it in mine.

She leaned her head back, those chocolate eyes danced in the glimmering lights shining down from overhead. A smile played at her lips, as if she were trying to keep it in check. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

Slowly, the girl edged back, out of my arms. Her hand tightened in mine, then tugged me along to the edge of the dance floor. The music was slow, and I relished a reason to hold her close to me, to be wrapped up in her. Some sort of quiet energy pulsed between us, like the beat of our hearts aligning, turning into one. The girl so beautiful, so perfect I could barely stand it.

“You’re a good dancer,” she murmured at the end of the second tune.

With a glance down at her face, I shook my head. “You say that as if you’re surprised.”

“I am,” she said, laughter in her voice. “You’re an enigma, Jet. This strong, brutal man who can wield a gun just as well as he can cook. You took me in, you’ve done everything for me. And now I find out you can dance, too? How’s that even fair?”

I tugged at one of the curls hanging over her bare back. “I have two sisters. Rebecca and Silvia forced me to dance with them once I was old enough to stand on my own. And my mother would have rather cut off my head than allow me to sit around watching TV while she and my sisters cooked. I might have been the baby, but that only meant they started me young.”

A lump rose in my throat, cutting off the possibility of saying any more words about my past. Thankfully, Eliza didn’t seem to mind. She brushed my hair across my forehead, eyes tracing a path down my nose before settling on my lips. “I owe them my gratitude. If I ever meet them, I’m going to thank them for making you the way you are. I couldn’t ask for a better man.”

If I could have breathed, I would have kissed her. If my demons hadn’t risen up to swallow me, I could have done more. The frozen stiffness of my grip must have alerted the poor girl. She pulled back, then looked over my shoulder, fingers tightening on my collar and clenching in my hand. Her eyes widened and a shaky smile lifted her lips.

Turning, I found the last thing I expected to see, and certainly one of the last I wanted to.