Page 18 of Merciless King

“Not really,” I said.

His eyes closed for a moment, that strong throat working again, and when his eyes opened they seemed even darker, though I wasn’t sure how that was possible. “Go pack your bag, sweetheart. Please.”

I didn’t want to be this giant burden on him, some kind of responsibility, but I wasn’t stupid either. Even with the break-in at the shop, what could the police do? They had no suspects, not yet anyway. I didn’t have anyone I could go to or someone who could come to me. Having anxiety when it came to social interactions meant I didn’t have a lot of friends. I most certainly didn’t have any close ones I could impose upon like that. Someone wanted to hurt me, and Van was offering safety. So, yeah, I was going to take it no matter how awkward I felt.

“Thank you,” I said, and rushed past him to my bedroom to pack.

* * *

Van

I watched her race off and bit out a curse. I’d never been affected by another human being the way London Rivera affected me. I dragged a breath in through my nose as my gut tightened and other parts of me fucking throbbed.

Everything about her hit every one of my hot buttons. Which was why I avoided women like her. Sweet, soft, gentle females that sent my protective instincts into overdrive. I’d seen that in her the moment I laid eyes on her. My mother had been sweet and soft and gentle, and my violent father had run right over her, over and over again.

I was afraid of how much of him I had in me. How much of him he’d passed on to his oldest son. I recognized him when I looked in the mirror, saw his hard, cold eyes reflected back. Of course, there were differences. I protected those people who relied on me, who I cared about, and I would never lay my hands on a woman.

No, what worried me was the cold, ruthless, violent part of me that would do anything, and I mean anything, to protect those people. That part of me, when it came out, brought pain and rage and vengeance with it. I knew what I was truly capable of. I could dish that shit out without mercy, without losing a moment of sleep.

Something was missing inside me, something that meant I wasn’t capable of the kind of love my brother, Hunter, was capable of. All the other guys at the agency—Zeke, Jude and Neco—had all managed to work through their shit and find that kind of connection. I wasn’t like them. Years of watching my mother being punished for something that wasn’t her fault, abused repeatedly, had done something to me, something it hadn’t to Hunter. Maybe it was guilt that they took the worst of it, that me, his real son, was never the first on the receiving end of his fists.

I didn’t know. But what I did know was that because of it, I was incapable of the kind of love that Hunter and Lulu shared, of forming that kind of connection.

No, instead I became obsessed. My twisted need for London was all-consuming and her vulnerability, her sweetness, just drew me more. I wanted some of that. Wanted to taste it, have it in my hands, underneath me, more than I wanted my next damn breath.

Of course, she chose that moment to walk out, expression uncertain, sweetly shy. I wanted to kiss her then more than I ever had. Back her up against the kitchen counter, tug down her jeans, and sink deep inside her warmth.

“Ready?” I bit out, need clear in my voice.

Her gaze avoided mine, cheeks still pink. “Yes.”

No, definitely not for me, no matter how much I wanted her. Having her at my place wouldn’t be easy, but she needed someone to take care of her. Needed somewhere safe while I hunted this fucker down and made her world safe again.

And I wouldn’t stop until I had.

5

London

I woke, swallowing my scream before it could be set loose. Heart racing, I blinked up at the shadowed ceiling, one that wasn’t mine, and it all came rushing back.

I was in Van’s apartment.

A groan slipped past my lips as I pushed myself up. I had aches and likely more bruises after the wrestling match I’d had on the floor of my shop the day before, ones I hadn’t noticed in the bathroom mirror.

I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. The nightmares were back with a vengeance. Only now there wasn’t just one monster, but two.

Light from the full moon cast shadows across the carpet. The bed felt huge. I curled my fingers into the navy blue quilt. It was big and soft, one of those sets you buy in a bag with pillows included. I scanned the room. I hadn’t taken it all in when Van led me down here hours earlier. I’d just wanted to close my eyes and try and forget. There was some exercise equipment over by a built-in closet and a small dresser opposite the bed, and not much else. This was his spare room. Van was in the room next door.

The restlessness riding me increased until I couldn’t sit still any longer. I shoved back the covers, climbed out, and walked to the door, easing it open. It was quiet and dark down the hall and beyond that as well. My feet were silent on the thick carpet; still, I was extra careful as I passed Van’s closed bedroom door.

The living room windows were floor to ceiling and the moonlight was just as bright in there, so I didn’t bother with the lamp and moved to look out across the city. During the day you could probably see my apartment building, the top couple of floors anyway.

Had the man who’d tried to hurt me gone there, gone into my apartment looking for me? Had he gone inside, hoping to find me there alone?

I shivered again and wrapped my arms around myself, shoving those thoughts from my mind. I couldn’t think about that right now, in the dark, on my own. I might fall apart if I let myself think about what could have happened, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull it back together again if I did.

I glanced around the room. Van’s apartment was so different than mine. He had money, obviously. Liked things orderly, in their place. The furniture was all dark, big, built for comfort. No photos or knickknacks. A total bachelor pad.