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I placed a call to Riordan about what happened, and I felt the stress in his voice. He’s proud of his wife, who’s hungry to dispense the kind of justice she couldn’t as a Fed. But she’s pregnant with his wee one.
I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he tells her she’s got to scale her shit back. If I see him with a black eye, I’ll know her response.
I think about Katya and how feisty she is. She may not throw a punch like Priscilla, but those legs… Those fucking gorgeous, strong legs can do some damage to my nuts.
After ordering a hungry-man omelet for myself and a few pastries to go for Katya, I look up at Griffin, dying for an opinion on how I feel about her. How much I like her, something I didn’t expect. Because I didn’t think I had it in me to actually feel anything. I was obsessed. That’s about greed and pride. But this is more.
For years, I took out my cruel needs with anonymous women who only saw a giant man and the promise of a big dick to get them off. Then I pushed sex out of my mind and threw myself into darkness, letting my body release on its own while I slept.
Things seem upside down now. I’m hesitant, because I worry I’ll get attached.
“Katya wants to live in London,” I blurt when Griffin has a mug of coffee halfway to his lips.
Her plans have been rattling around in my head. Looking forward, I figure once she’s settled, and I know she’s out of danger, I’ll give her a divorce. Let her find a real husband. Someone who will marry her for love. But thinking of someone else touching her drives me crazy.
“Why?” Griffin asks, then takes his sip.
“There’s a dance conservatory she wants to attend. She auditions next month.”
“Does she have a shot?”
“I’ll make sure she gets in.” My stomach twists, thinking of what I’d say to each judge in the dark alley I drag them to. “I want her to have this. She’s wanted it more than being married to me.”
“People’s goals change when they’re in love.”
“I’m not in love.” Am I? No. “I’m not husband material. I can be killed any day.”
“You?” He pats my arm. “You’re like a cat, Lach. You’re not going anywhere. She looked happy that day I caught you standing there naked. She didn’t go shrieking into the corner like I’d expect a little waif like her to do,” Griffin rattles off with humor.
“She’s happy to be safe.” I dilute the connection we have because it makes little sense to feel so real. “It was marry me or the animal who rearranged her face.” I tighten my fist around a mug of black coffee, thinking of that vile swine hurting her.
“You care about her. Nothing wrong with that.” Griffin digs into his food and says nothing more.
“She sure is sweet.” I shift in my seat, and I assume that tiny, virgin cunt tastes sweet.
Fuck, I get dizzy just thinking about it.
Life’s a wild ride, and all I can do now is strap in and see where this roller coaster takes me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Katya
Onthefirstdayback to my rehearsals, Lachlan drives me to school in his dark green Grand Wagoneer with tinted windows. It rides like a tank and feels safe, as if a giant gun is strapped to the roof.
We listen to the radio, and he lets me choose the music. To get in the mood for my routine, I find the classical station on his satellite radio.
Lachlan’s eyebrows go up, but then he settles into his seat. “This is nice.”
“Right?” I close my eyes and breathe.
“You have a healthy knowledge of classical music, I bet. For your dancing?”
“I do.” I sit up. “I have a Pandora account with hundreds of songs. If it’s okay, I’ll play some of it when I’m cooking dinner.”
“What do you mean, if it’s okay?”
“It’s your house, Lachlan.”
