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Everyone in this city knows I have my limits. They didn’t know Chloe was one of them until that night. I stayed away to keep the target off her back, but people don’t forget in this city.
I may be young, and I may work for a man who doesn’t venture into this territory, but I run these streets where she lives. No one owns Crescent Hills. If I wanted to take it though, there’s not a single prick here who’d stand in my way.
But I don’t want this city any more than it wanted me.
I want Chloe Rose.The thought catches me off guard. I’ve always known it’s true, but I don’t like to admit it. There’s something about her that begs me to be something more for her.
That’s the part that kills me though; there’s nothing more to me than what she sees, what everyone sees. A ruthless man who’s angry at life and makes his living by beating the piss out of pricks.
She’s not like me. She’s soft and kind and needs a gentler hand than I can give her. She deserves better.
“How’d you get in?” Chloe’s voice is soft, although the edge of defiance is still there. Bringing my gaze back to her, I take her in again. From her long legs and skinny waist to those wide hips that beg me to bend her over and give her a punishing fuck, the sight of her makes even the misery of why I’m here vanish for a moment.
She crosses her arms as if she doesn’t agree with what I’m thinking, but all that does is put a strain on the blouse she’s wearing and push those gorgeous tits of hers together. They may be small, but all I need is a mouthful. My dick stirs, and I have to look away, heading to the living room and glancing around at her place as I go.
“I picked the lock,” I tell her, although it’s not true. I have a set of keys, got them the day she ordered them from the hardware store. It kept her waiting longer than she should’ve been there, but I had to do what I had to do. And that meant sneaking in later that night to make sure she was sleeping. Which she never did, but Chloe has a habit of missing sleep.
As do I.
So, she laid there quietly in bed and stiffened at the sound of me moving about, but she never turned around, she never dared to check. She has a habit of that too. Of thinking if she ignores the monsters she conjures in her head, they’ll go away. The sad fact is sometimes those monsters in the dark aren’t imaginary, but damn does she like to convince herself they are.
She huffs out a laugh that’s flat and then brushes her hair back as she leans against the side table in the hall. “You making yourself at home?” she asks, daring me to keep walking and make my way to the living room. I don’t answer her, still taking everything in and noting that it’s all the same.
She hasn’t changed a thing. Not one thing in this place for two years. For some fucked up reason, it sends a ripple of pain through my chest, more than the broken door did. The walls of the hallway still have the same framed photos her uncle had put up after she moved in with him.
Her uncle was more of a parent to her than her own mother was. Him taking her in after her mother’s death was the best thing for her, but he was supposed to help her get out of this shit life, not have a heart attack and leave her here all alone.
“Come on over here and have a seat with me,” I tell her as I sink into the large sofa that takes up half the room. The edges of the armrest are worn, but it smells like her. Exactly how I remember Chlo. A soft peach scent and some kind of flower. Nothing but sweet.
My fingers dig into the cushion as she stalks slowly to the opposite side of the sofa and seems to consider sitting down as she stands in place. She smooths out the back of her skirt as she stares at the seat and then kicks off her heels, letting the silence pass.
All I can do is stare at her, even as she refuses to look back at me. It makes me think about different possibilities. If we lived in a different city. If our lives were different. If any of that were the case, I never would have let her think she was anything but mine. There’s something in my soul that recognizes her as belonging to me. She’s mine to protect, to take in my bed, to give the world.
Brushing the rough pad of my thumb along my lip, I have to remind myself that’s not the world we live in and she’s not mine. Life is better for both of us that way.
I’m a threat to those who have control of the neighboring territories. And that little fact never leaves me. Especially after what happened last week.
I’m no good for Chloe.
She needs someone to take her away from here, and away from me.
Finally, she sinks back into the sofa, sighing and taking a peek at me. “Just tell me what you want, Sebastian.”
Those eyes transfix me. It’s like she sees through the bullshit, but she always has.
What Iwant. That word sends a wave of warmth and desire through my body. I want her. But that’s not what I’m here for and she’s something I’ll never have.
“Have you been watching the news?” I lean forward as I ask her the question, resting my elbows on my knees. Her small body stiffens as she shakes her head. As if watching the news is a sin.
She’s a horrible liar. The worst liar I’ve ever fucking met. Maybe that’s why I feel so drawn to her. She can’t hide from me. But I can’t hide from her either. There’s something so freeing about that simple fact. Something that makes being in her presence addictive.
Even if it’s for a shit reason.
“Barry turned up yesterday, did you hear about that?” I ask her and immediately feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of her. Anything that triggers memories of her past causes her pain which is easily seen by anyone who would bother to look.
“I don’t give two shits about Barry.” Her voice turns harder as she pulls her knees into her chest. She stares straight ahead, and I follow her gaze to the peeling wallpaper.
“Do you know who did it?” At the question, her head whips in my direction with a bolt of anger flashing in her eyes.
