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“Did they hurt you?” he whispers and I notice his lower lip is busted.
Shaking my head, I say, “Did they cut you? They must’ve, I saw them holding knives...” But there doesn’t seem to be any cuts on his body other than the one on his arm. My hands go to Relic and I trace his body, desperate to see if he’s really okay but it seems that he blocked any serious violence against him.
“Why did you let them hurt you like that?” I say with a broken whisper before breaking out in full on trembles. “Why?”
He bores his eyes into mine, giving me the answer. He allowed it to punish himself but why? Aggravation floods in me and I clutch his jacket, not understanding why this man is so engulfed in shadows when there’s all this power in him. Looking at his bloody face, I whimper, “You’re my hero.”
His eyes shudder as if the words bring him peace and he rasps, “I’m not a hero.”
“Yes, you are!” I cry and gasp when he yanks me to him.
“I tried to be good,” he grits between his teeth, “tried to leave you alone but I’m fucking done.” He clasps my cheeks and I flood with need. “You should’ve left while you had the chance, now I’ll kill any man who tries to love you.”
The muscles in my lower belly clench. I’ve been claimed. Claimed by a man more than twice my age, with double the life experience but my whole body sighs from relief. I belong to him now and from the look in his eyes, I know he’ll never let me go.
As resistant as he is to love, he’s no longer resistant to me.
4.
Relic
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” she whispers. “You turned those guys into dust and they were...”
“Half my age,” I finish and she gulps, nodding. Lowering my hands down her back, I add, “I told you, I’m not nice.”
I shudder when her hair blows in the wind, whipping me in the face and she smells of strong chamomile flowers. She has cast a fair spell over me and now I’m hers, tranquilized and finally at peace. My hands harden around her and her flesh effortlessly gives in to my touch, and I recognized what she was the moment I saw her. She’s a Scotch mist, a thing hard to find and a thing I didn’t think existed. How I would’ve roamed the earth for her, turned every rock and chopped down every tree for a glance at her soft cheek and ladylike lips.
And now I finally have her.
“Silver,” I whisper softly, stroking her and petting her as if she’s a cat snuggling up on my chest. “You need to stop with the shaking or you’ll make me worried.”
“I can’t,” she replies, “can’t control it. It’s all that adrenaline.”
What she needs is a distraction and I hold her tighter. “A kiss,” I rasp and her indigo eyes flare, “a kiss to calm you down.” Tilting her face up, I press my lips against hers and she lets out a small moan, her knees bucking and she sags against my chest. My tongue penetrates her soft petals, licking her tongue and I coax more laps from her, pushing my thigh between her legs and she melts down on me when her slick heat rubs against my muscles.
The kiss hardens, turning violently frantic and she cries out in feminine panic, the sound causing an owl tohoogloomily from deep inside the woods. Silver tilts her head back, her eyes hooded and her hands twisted in my hair.
“Who are you really, big guy?” she whispers and she looks down, clasping my wrists. “What do these tattoos on your hands stand for, what do they mean?”
“You really want to know?” I say and she hesitantly nods. A muscle ticks in my jaw and I reply, “They stand for the Nordic Mafia.”
I’m thinking she’ll freak out a little bit, ask me to explain further because most people haven’t heard about us but her reaction is one I didn’t expect. Eyes flaring, she suddenly shoves me away from her and starts backing.
“No, I was supposed to stay away from you,” she pants and there’s panic on her face, “not you guys again, not you...”
Brows frowning at her incoherent mumbling, I take a step closer and she twitches, letting out a yelp and I snatch her to me but she cries out, “Let me go! I’m sorry I pushed you, I didn’t know who you were, now please let me go...”
Looking down at her, I rasp, “Too late. You’re already mine and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
She stares at me in terror. “Oh shit...,” she pants, jaw slacking and she lets out a gasp before her head bobs and she passes out, going limp in my arms and I let out a soft growl.
“Hey...,” I snarl, gently shaking her but her throat just arches, her limbs feeling heavy like sand and she’s totally lifeless. She didn’t pass out when she almost got kidnapped by those fuckers but she passes out when I tell her I’m a mobster and annoyance flares in me.
Calling her name, I shake her again but she’s unresponsive and I lean my cheek against hers, murmuring that I’ll take care of her and that she has nothing to fear. Scooping her up, I bring her over to my car, putting her down on the seat and her legs fall apart, head tilting to the side.
Between her lips, she whispers deliriously, “Not you, not you...” It’s like a mantra but I ignore her plea and sit behind the wheel. She’s coming home with me and in my home she’ll stay. I live in an out of function lighthouse by the cliffs, and deal with packages that need to be put on the ships, transported and distributed. If anyone comes around, putting their nose where it doesn’t belong and asking too many questions then I deal with them too.
Turning the engine, I glance at Silver and with all that hair tumbling down her shoulders, she reminds me of a caught mermaid. She’s in my net now and I’ll never set her free.
