5. BLAKE
Chapter five
BLAKE
T hey sat across from each other in the dimly lit roadside diner, sipping on scalding hot coffee. The memory of that kiss burned even hotter than the coffee on Blake’s lips, but right now, he was too mad to enjoy the feeling. His eyes bored into Savannah’s, searching for answers.
"Look, Savannah," he said gruffly, gripping the edge of the table, "I need to know everything that’s going on if I'm going to protect you. What was that guy at the Lucifer Club talking about? Said something about a secret camera?"
Savannah clenched her jaw, then crossed her arms defensively, her green eyes narrowing. "Yes, he may have found a secret camera on me last night. Then he stole it. No biggie.”
“No biggie?” Blake asked, feeling his blood begin to boil. “Some asshole at the dodgiest nightclub in the city finds you with a secret camera and it’s no fucking biggie?”
Savannah flinched at his raised voice. She looked away from him, her eyes scanning anywhere but his gaze. Her voice was strained when she finally spoke, “Look, Blake, I know it sounds bad, but that’s why I hired you. I needed protection. Not a lecture.”
“And in order to protect you, I need honesty, Savannah. What are you investigating? Who are these guys? What’s your deal, Savannah?”
Savannah shook her head. “I don’t need to tell you anything,” she said, pouting. “You’re just a grunt. You’re not my . . .” She trailed off.
“Not your what , Savannah?” he pressed her cruelly. “Not your Daddy?” He instantly regretted his words.
Her eyes widened. “My Daddy? What are you talking about, Blake? I was going to say you’re not my business partner. I hired you for one night. And now that night is over. Finito. We blew it. And if you hadn’t kissed me—”
“That kiss would have worked,” said Blake, his lips tingling at the mention of it again. “If you hadn’t turned around afterward—”
“I was shocked by it, Blake. It’s not exactly standard practice, is it?” She scoffed. “How many times have you pulled that one before? Now I see why your security firm likes to protect vulnerable women. So that you can take advantage of them.”
Blake shook his head. “No, Savannah. That’s not true. Not at all. Look, I didn’t mean to kiss you, alright? But I had to think quickly. Like I said, I do whatever it takes to protect a client.”
Savannah pursed her lips. Her eyes trailed down over his muscular body, and he thought he noticed her pupils dilate as she drank him in. Then again, it might have been wishful thinking. “You seemed . . . excited by the kiss,” she said at last.
Blake swallowed. “I’m a red-blooded man, Savannah. The kiss felt good. My body reacted. I’m sorry if that offended you. It didn't mean anything.”
She blinked at him. It looked as though she was about to say something, but then she stopped herself and took another sip of coffee. At last, she said, “Maybe I should be investigating Paladin Security. Maybe you’re the ones responsible for all the missing women in this city.”
Blake felt his entire body tense. “What do you know about the missing women?”
“Not enough thanks to you messing up my investigation tonight,” she shot back.
“Wait, there’s a link between the missing women and the Lucifer Club? And that asshole who I knocked out tonight?”
His mind raced. Why hadn’t he and his brothers ever made that link? They’d discovered connections to the missing women among corrupt politicians. They’d found drug dealers who’d gotten young women hooked on Class A’s like it was candy. But they’d never found the lowlife scumbags on the ground who were actually taking the women. Was that fuckwit he’d punched one of the bastards he’d been after all this time?
Savannah scowled. “I’m not telling you anything, Mr. Nosy Parker. This is my investigation and I’m going to be the one to crack this case open. Stick to what you’re best at: kissing women in danger and then grinding your big hot . . . package against them.”
Blake couldn’t help himself from grinning. “You think I have a big hot package, huh?”
Savannah slammed her cup down on the table. “Well,” she said, “it’s been . . . interesting working with you, Blake. How much do I owe you?”
“Wait,” he said, feeling a jolt of panic. “That’s it? You’re leaving?”
“I hired you for one night. And now it’s over. Turns out, I operate better alone.”
Blake grunted. “You get your secret camera stolen when you’re alone. What was on that camera, by the way?”
Savannah scoffed, her fiery curls framing her freckled face as she shook her head. "I’m not telling you anything.”
“You’re in danger, babygirl. You need me.”
“You’re not getting any more money out of me!”
“I don’t want money. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You’re trying to scare me,” said Savannah, her voice rising with frustration. “Just because I hired a bodyguard doesn't mean I'm weak or scared."
“Fine," he finally said, his voice rough with restrained emotion. "But I'm not backing off, Savannah. You need someone watching your back, whether you like it or not."
As the neon sign outside continued to flicker, casting shadows across their faces, the two of them stared each other down, both stubborn and determined, unwilling to concede an inch. Behind her stubbornness, though, he could sense her vulnerability, the hidden Little side that she had yet to admit to.
"Are you saying you're going to trail me against my wishes?"
"Listen," Blake began, his voice softening for a moment. "There's something I need to tell you, Savannah."
Her green eyes narrowed, suspicion evident in their emerald depths.
"What?"
"I'm a Daddy Dom," he confessed, watching her carefully for any signs of recognition or fear. "And I can sense your Little side. Which means it's my duty to protect you, even if I'm not your Daddy."
Savannah's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly in surprise. She seemed to take a moment to process the revelation, her cheeks flushing a deep pink. "I . . . I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, looking away from his penetrating gaze.
Blake reached across the table, gently grasping her hand. "It doesn't matter if you understand it fully yet. Just know that I'll always be here to keep you safe."
Savannah yanked her hand away. "I don't need your protection, Blake. I told you I can't afford to pay you anymore.”
"Like I said, I don't care about the money. I care about you. I'm not going anywhere, Savannah. You need someone on your side"
The tattered vinyl booth creaked beneath Savannah as she leaned forward, her green eyes blazing with defiance. "Why do you even care, Blake?" she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you so hell-bent on protecting me?"
"Look, I . . ." he hesitated. "I can't just stand by and let a young woman get hurt. It's not in my nature."
Her eyes flickered with vulnerability for a moment, then hardened once more. "Well, I don't need your help, Blake. I've been taking care of myself for a long time now, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon."
With a huff of frustration, Savannah pulled a wad of cash from her purse and slammed it onto the table, the crumpled bills scattering across the stained surface.
"Here," she spat, rising from her seat. "This should cover the last three hours you spent playing bodyguard. Now leave me alone."
"Wait, Savvy!" Blake called after her, but she ignored him, storming out of the diner with her head held high.
"Stubborn as hell," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
Savannah's hips swayed as she hurried down the street, her little black minidress hugging her curves.
Blake couldn't help but let his gaze linger on her a moment longer, the memory of their fake kiss igniting a heat within him once more. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Pushing away from the booth, he grabbed her cash then dropped some of his own on the table before following her out into the night, his protective instincts impossible to ignore.
***
The crescent moon hung low in the sky, casting a faint glow on Savannah's front porch as she fumbled with her keys.
Blake waited, hidden in the shadows across the street, watching her movements with eagle-like precision. Finally, the door swung open, and Savannah disappeared inside.
"Safe and sound," he whispered to himself, his shoulders relaxing slightly. But as he turned to head home, a mix of irritation and sexual frustration bubbled up within him.
Seriously, what was it about this girl? He felt so strangely close to her. Like he knew her from a previous life. It didn’t make any sense.
Blake found his car in a side street a little way away from the Lucifer Club. He was tempted to explore the club some more, but he knew he needed to talk it through with his brothers first. He fired up the engine of his Dodge and drove back to Wicker Park, a lively and hip part of the city.
He lived in a former factory converted into an industrial-style loft apartment with his younger brother, Jax. An airy, modern place with exposed brick and high ceilings that served as his sanctuary from the chaos of his work. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him.
"Hey, big brother," a voice called out from the open plan space.
Blake glanced over to see his younger brother, Jax, lounging on the oversized leather couch, watching a news channel on the TV while simultaneously tapping away on his laptop.
"Jax," he grunted in response, dropping his keys on the nearby counter with a heavy sigh.
"Rough day?" His brother arched an eyebrow.
"Something like that," Blake admitted.
"Want to talk about it?" Jax offered, muting the TV and turning his full attention to his brother.
Blake hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure, why not? You know that girl I've been protecting? Savannah?"
"Ah, yeah, the one you insisted on helping," Jax said, his tone gentle. "What's the deal with her?"
"Long story short, she's in danger but she doesn't want my help anymore," Blake confessed, frustration creeping into his voice. "I can't just walk away from her, though."
"That's tough," Jax observed, nodding sympathetically.
"She's stubborn. Frustrating. Reckless."
"And you've got a crush on her?"
"What? No!"
"Sounds like she's your type."
"This isn't about that. She's in danger, Jax, and I pushed her away from me."
"Sorry. Not trying to be an ass. What are you going to do about it? Is communication open?"
"I don't know. I think she thinks I'm a jerk. Or a creep."
"You'll work it out," his brother said.
"I hope so," Blake murmured, rubbing his temples as the memory of Savannah's defiant expression flashed through his mind.
Jax gestured at the TV. “Speaking of creeps and jerks, you should hear Alderman Anderson talking at City Hall today. The sooner we expose this guy’s filthy little habits the better.”
Jax had uncovered evidence of some extremely unsavory activity on the dark web involving underage women, and it was highly likely the asshole was paying for sex with young girls in real life, too. Not just that—it was probable that he was involved in the citywide trafficking problem, possibly keeping immigration numbers down by funneling young women into the sordid scheme he was running. The guy wasn’t just bad—he was evil.
“Look, I want to take down this asshole as much as you do,” said Blake. “But I can’t ignore an individual who clearly needs my help.”
Especially one I feel like I met in a previous life.
“I don't know, man, she says she doesn’t need your help anymore. Maybe you should leave it,” said Jax with a shrug. “We run a security business, and it’s exactly that: a business. For paying customers. But this other work we do, taking down the bad guys . . . that’s our calling. You get me?”
Blake sighed. “I get you.”
Jax unmuted the TV. “You should watch this with me. Prep for the gala.”
Blake yawned. “I would, man, but I haven’t slept in two days. I’m like a bear with a sore head.”
“Nash won’t be happy to hear your head’s not in the game,” Jax called after him.
“Nash can swivel!” Blake called back.
He retreated to his room, alone with his thoughts. He needed to keep his emotions in check. Forget about the girl. Focus on the alderman.
But it was easier said than done.
There was something about Savannah—her determination, her vulnerability, the way she reminded him of someone he couldn't quite place—that made it impossible for him to just walk away.
What was it about this girl that had gotten under his skin?
As he collapsed onto his bed, Blake couldn't shake the persistent image of Savannah at the beach, her pink tongue teasing the ice cream, the curve of her hips in those hotpants. He groaned into his pillow, knowing that sleep would be a long time coming tonight.