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“Remi, if you walk out that door with him just know we’re done,” Chicago calls after her.
I swing open the door before I turn back to level him with a stare and answer before she can.
“Now it’s me that’s done with you. You threatening her is the same as threatening me.” Chicago’s eyes grow wide, and he starts to try to backtrack.
I don’t pay attention to whatever is coming out of his mouth. I’m done with all this bullshit. I pull Remi close as I make my way back across the club. A few people glance our way, and I wonder if this is going to end up on some blog or some shit.
I really don’t care at this point. What I do care about is that every man is looking at her. She’s in a tiny white dress that makes her red hair glow. I want to touch it. To run my fingers through it and see if it's as soft as it looks. She reminds me of a tiny porcelain doll with rosy cheeks and painted lips. She screams sex and innocence at the same time. I have no idea how that’s possible, but it's true, nonetheless.
When we exit the club, I release her hand long enough to pull my suit jacket off and drape it over her shoulders.
“Thanks.” Her voice is whisper soft. I claim her hand again before heading toward my vehicle. “Oh.” She wobbles in the heels as she tries to walk on the loose gravel. Without a second thought, I scoop her up into my arms. “What are you doing?” She wraps her arms around me. I cradle her to my chest. She’s too damn light.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Ahh.” Her brows pull together.
“You’re too little.” She drops her eyes from mine.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean it that way.” I’m horrible at this. I should be excellent at it. Especially since I have a firsthand view of how all the men in my family treat the women they love.
“Then what do you mean?”
“That you should eat is all.” I put her on her feet when we reach my car, opening the door for her. “In,” I order her.
“You’re bossy,” she responds but drops inside of the vehicle. I’m thankful but also irritated that she’d just let me take her. I could be a psycho for all she knows. From my own behavior, I’m starting to think that's a possibility. I’ve broken away from reality or the reality of who I actually am. I don’t manhandle women. Hell, I don’t do anything with women unless we’re working together on a project or they’re related to me.
I shut the door behind her and jog around before she can change her mind and try to get out. “Seatbelt.” I reach and grab it for her, clicking it into place.
I should probably work on not barking orders at her, but I’m so on fucking edge right now.
“Thanks.” Her eyes flick around the inside of my car. “This car looks like it’s from the future.”
“It kind of is.” I pull out my cell and fire off a few texts before I take off.
“Crap, I forgot my bag.” She looks back.
“I’ll send someone to collect it. You’re not going back there. Ever.” I speed up, wanting all the space from that place that she and I can get. An irrational fear has been riding me that they’ll try to take her back from me. “Were there credit cards or anything in it that you need to worry about?”
“Just my cell and the keys to my apartment. If they try to use my debit card they’ll get a total of twenty-two dollars.” She says it with a small laugh, but I don’t find it funny. I don’t think she does either, but she's trying to hide it. Little does she know she’s never going to have to worry about money again.
“You were there for a job?” My eyes flick off the road for a moment to take in her outfit again. The image is already seared into my brain, but I can’t help myself from looking again. She’s too damn tempting. I’d pay her just not to leave my house. I wouldn’t have to worry about any fuckers trying to hurt her again. I’m far from done with Logan.
“I was thinking about it. My life has kind of gone to shit lately.”
“Tell me.” I want to know it all.
“Where are we going?” she suddenly asks. It must finally dawn on her that she's in a car with a man she doesn’t even know.
“Taking you home.”
“But I need my keys. Well, not really. If you wiggle the handle hard enough, you can get the door open.”
“Tell me you’re fucking with me.”
“I put a chair against the door when I sleep in my room. I have a separate lock on my bedroom. I have roommates.” The way she says roommates has my hackles rising.
