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I feel myself falling.
Like before.
I’m falling.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Maybe this time, if the ocean catches me, it will keep me, drown me until I’m gone.
16
Enzo
Watching Kai collapse to the ground shouldn’t affect me. It shouldn’t bother me in the slightest. But then why do I have this gut-wrenching, heaving, gnawing feeling in my stomach as I watch her ailing body fall and then bounce against my hardwood floor?
I should have moved faster; then maybe I would have caught her and prevented the forceful impact of her body. But I was too focused on the bruise on her wrist. The blues and purples drew me into her pale skin, but I couldn’t tell if it was fractured, sprained, or just a bruise. The desire to hunt down Jarod, the man who dared to hurt her flooded through me, while simultaneously wanting to tie her down and fuck her, giving her more wounds and scars from the ropes I would use to tie her up.
Fuck, there is something wrong with me.
“Kai?” I bend down to offer my help for her to stand, even though I know she won’t take it. She all but hates me. She thinks I’m going to torture her and rape her like the last man who owned her. She should think that way. I’m not safe. Although it’s not my style to force a woman against her will, women line up to be fucked by me. I pay the most beautiful women in the world to work in my club, and they have no problem extending their services to me when their shifts are over.
Kai’s different; she wears the battle she’s endured on every piece of her flesh. And all the scars do is make me wonder what she sounds like when she screams with tears running down her cheeks. Because I’m a sick, fucking monster.
I don’t know how she ended up on the floor. I reached out wanting to touch her bruise and wanting to see if the cold still pulses through her veins. And then she was on the floor.
I don’t know how…
Did exhaustion finally catch up with her?
Lack of food?
Or was it panic I saw in her eyes at the thought of me caressing her?
“Kai,” I say louder, keeping my hands by my side instead of touching her, in case my almost brush against her was what caused the panic attack.
She doesn’t stir.
Shit.
“Kai,” I scream.
Westcott runs into the room, “Enzo? What happened? I heard a scream.” His face is full of shock as he stares down at Kai’s lifeless body.
“She just collapsed,” I answer.
“I’ll call 911,” Westcott says.
“No,” I hiss.
Westcott frowns, and I know he will disobey me if I don’t do something soon. He’s worked for my family for a long time. He’s one of my most loyal employees, but he doesn’t put up with my shit. He doesn’t have to worry about me firing him; I won’t. And even if I did, I pay him well enough that he could retire now even though he’s only fifty.
Westcott pulls out his phone, threatening me. He’s the only person in the world allowed to bully me and not get reprimanded or killed for his trouble. In some ways, he was the father I always wanted but never had.
What do I do?
