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Even the possibility of something happening to her makes me want to beat someone to a bloody pulp, and kick my own arse for not being there in the first place.
I pull Quinn’s head into my chest and tuck her inside my jacket—she’s ice cold—and my eyes dart around for potential danger. I can feel her calming down, but she’s still shivering, her breathing still fast. I can feel her heart racing, but I don’t see anyone. I grab her face in my hands and angle her up to look into my eyes. As soon as those big, silver-blue doe eyes lock on mine, I rub her cheeks with my thumbs. I’m trying to calm her down so she can tell me what the bloody hell happened, and it’s working. Her breathing finally slows, and her cheeks pink with embarrassment. I smooth her wild, auburn hair out of her face with the palm of my hand.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Quinn nods shakily and nervously licks her cherry red pout. I groan out loud. She’s fecking killing me, and she doesn’t even realize it. There’s nothing I want more than to get inside her, to mark her as mine. But that can’t happen, because she’s not.
She’s not mine.
“Now, tell me why you were running like a bat out of hell,” I instruct.
She tries to take a step back, but I hold her in place. She’s not going anywhere until she talks to me. She shakes her head dismissively and rolls her eyes in an attempt to downplay her fear.
“It’s nothing. I thought I was being followed, but I’m just being paranoid.”
I clench my jaw so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if my goddamn teeth break. Her father is gone, so who the feck would be following her?
Well, other than me.
“Who.” It’s not a question. Quinn looks behind her once more, while trying to wiggle out of my grasp.
“Quinn!” My tone has her head snapping back in my direction, her expression shocked.
“Can we just go inside first?” she hisses out. I direct her into Hot N’ Bothered by her upper arm and drag her little ass all the way up the stairs, ignoring the curious looks from nosy bastards, and into the only empty office here. Jade’s in her old office again, seeing how she’s visibly pregnant and Cole doesn’t want her working at all, let alone as a bartender. Having her do administrative work was their compromise.
I slam the door shut and cage Quinn against it, my arms on either side of her head.
“Talk.” I can feel it starting to take over. The need to hurt someone. To make them pay. She swallows hard, and I watch the movement in her neck. Without even thinking, I wrap my hand around it loosely, stroking the slender column with my thumb. Her chest is heaving, her breathing speeding up, but this time it’s not in fear. I may not be able to read people, their thoughts or feelings—however, Quinn is the exception. I can sense Quinn’s thoughts and feelings as my own. Perhaps it’s because I spend so much time watching her, or perhaps we are simply the same.
“We match.” Her soft, throaty voice is barely audible over the bass of whatever shite music is playing downstairs.
“Our eyes,” she clarifies, seeing the confusion on my face. “We have the same greyish-blue eyes. You even have the little flecks of green in them. We match.” Her lips quirk up into a little half-smile and she shrugs, my hand still gripping her throat. She’s right about the color, but her eyes are far more beautiful—almond shaped and framed by long, thick eyelashes—but, I’m beginning to think we match on the inside, too.
Is she trying to distract me?
“Quinn. Explain.” My voice is almost begging. I hate it, but not enough to think before I talk to her. Everything I do when it comes to this woman is based on instinct.
She rolls her eyes, realizing I’m not going to give up.
“I told you. I’m just jumpy and a little skittish since he came back.” She bites her lip and looks away. She’s not telling me something.
“He is also fecking dead. He can’t hurt you anymore. Do I need to take care of someone?”
Her eyes widen at my insinuation. I’ve killed for her before, without a second thought. I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
“Jesus, Carter, no! You do realize that offing people isn’t the solution to everything, right?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Debatable.”
“There’s no one to…er…take care of. My father was indebted to a lot of people. Bad people. I keep waiting for one of them to come looking for me or something.” She’s still not telling me something. If someone touched one single hair on Quinn’s head, or even so much as breathed the same air as her, I’d snap their goddamn neck.
“Give me your phone.”
Quinn looks slightly confused, but hands me her phone without question. Good girl. The tips of my fingers graze her wrist as she slowly pulls her hand away. She’s so damn soft. I flip the phone over to program my number into it and see that she already had 911 dialed, ready to hit Send if necessary. She doesn’t need the fecking cops. She needs a Savage. Specifically, me.
“You don’t walk to or from work alone, you hear me? And if you ever think you’re in danger, even if it’s just a feeling, you call me. Not the goddamn police. Not your friends. Me.”
In response, Quinn flattens her tiny hands on my chest and slowly slides them up to snake around my neck. My dick tries to break through my pants at the feel of her touching me. She licks her lips, and I squint my eyes at the sight. I’m about two seconds away from throwing her ass on the floor and fucking her senseless. But, I can’t. I won’t. Jade and Cole may have given me my confidence back, but Quinn isn’t just any girl. She is the girl. The only one I even see. I saw what her father did to her, and the things he said to her. I couldn’t treat her like a bloody cum bucket. But, feck me, I want to feel her from the inside.
