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“How do I know you won’t call the cops?” he growls.
I nod toward his pocket. “Because you have my phone, stupid.”
The dark giant takes a long angry step towards me. I try not to show my fear as he looms, big and tall, just inches away. His eyes are burning with that blue fire again. My foot starts to tap as I desperately try to match his intensity. It’s no use. I’m scared as hell—and more excited than I’ve ever been before in my entire life.
Kiss me, you coward.
He has an earthy musk to him that crawls over my body and seeps in through my skin. I desperately try not to make it obvious that I’m sniffing in his scent. I purse my lips and grind my teeth, but only so I don’t show my arousal. I remember the feeling of my fingers between my legs as I thought of this man in my shower earlier today. The cold water has been replaced by his cold stare, but still, the heat inside of me rages on.
The inches of air between us are tense and dangerous. I keep my eyes on his, until he huffs like a bull and looks past me. His jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth. I get one last intense look from the hunky shadow before he steps around me, brushing his exposed shoulder against mine. My skin tingles at the contact.
I whip around and watch him go, filled with anger and disappointment and desire and sadness. “Hey, I want my phone!” I yell after him, trying not to let on that I’d rather he stayed with it.
He tugs on the sleeve of his leather jacket until it’s back over his broad shoulder, then he kicks open the door, letting a gust of wind into the dark hallway.
“You’ll have to come get it, waitress,” he growls, before disappearing into the howling darkness outside.
9
Ronan
All that, and I didn’t even get her name.
Am I just losing my touch? I spent a whole night following dead ends, with nothing to show for it. I still have no clue where Santino might be, and I definitely don’t know what the waitress’s name is. All I know for sure is that I need to see her again.
She’s awoken something inside of me that’s more dangerous than any shootout ever could be. The aching in my thawing heart hurt even more than my throbbing arm when I tried to get some rest this morning.
I didn’t get a wink, yet I still dreamed.
She wouldn’t leave my mind. Even now, as I fix myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen at my loft and try to formulate a plan, her image is seared behind my eyelids. I have more regrets in my life than I can count, but right now, none are as strong as the one that’s kicking my wounded heart. What was I thinking with that ‘waitress’ comment?
I drink my scalding cup and try to let the pain wake me up. I feel like a fool for letting a woman do this to me. I promised myself long ago that I’d never let this happen again, but here I am, at the end of my rope, about to lose everything I’ve ever worked towards because I can’t look away, even when she’s nowhere to be seen.
I’m still wearing the same clothes I had on last night, and when I feel a vibration coming from my pocket, I don’t even think that it could be from anything else other than my phone.
Nope, it’s the waitress’s cell phone that’s ringing.
Medlink School of Nursing. That’s what it says on the caller ID. I don’t pick up, but when the call goes to voicemail, I slip her phone back into my pocket and grab my laptop.
I do a quick search for the Medlink School of Nursing. Sure enough, it’s exactly what it sounds like. A nursing school uptown. Maybe she’s not just a waitress after all...
Her phone buzzes alive again, only once this time, though, and I quickly check. A voice-to-text message has come up for the voicemail that was just left. I swiftly read through it before it disappears from her locked screen.
... Ms. Nia Jones... Outstanding Debt... are the words that catch my eye.
Ah, that makes more sense.
The revelation doesn’t help my mood one bit. I only feel worse for my comment last night. I’ve had better mornings after killing someone than I’m having right now.
... At least I know her name now.
Nia Jones. Fitting. Beautiful. Out of my reach.
Forget about her, I order myself. But I should know better, no one can really tell me what to do.
Sure, I’m acting on Gianni Barone’s orders right now, but I’ve said no to him before. I don’t go after innocent women, and I definitely don’t go after children. There are some lines even a monster doesn’t cross. It’s what keeps me feeling human, especially after I swore off all non-business relationships.
Regret that now, huh, bud? I tease myself.
