Chapter 15 Hana
HANA
I winced as I stood. Despite only thrusting into me properly once, Roman left a lasting impression that I was reminded of every time I moved. And right now, I needed to move quickly while he took a shower.
After our… whatever the hell that was, he untied my hands, kissing my wrists where the tape had left marks, in a tender way that was the polar opposite of his usual gruff, domineering demeanour.
It almost made me feel cared for, but that was ridiculous.
This had been about getting off. I mean, he practically played ‘just the tip’ with my pussy and then finished inside me like I was a toy for him to use.
I shuddered because I wasn’t complaining.
It was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced, and it would be in the vault for the next time I used my vibrator.
Which would probably be later, as even the thought of what he did to me would have made my underwear wet—if I was wearing any.
My clothes were soaked or ripped to shreds by the psycho—the name suited him—so I stole a T-shirt from his dresser, and when I slipped it on, it practically reached my knees.
I pushed my feet into my soggy trainers and crept through the house quietly, hoping he wouldn’t come out of the shower and catch me.
Although the storm had passed, it was now the middle of the night, and I didn’t fancy walking home. I presumed my car was still dead, so I did the only thing I could: I took Roman’s keys from the side and stole his car.
“You look happy. Good night?” Jay asked as I pushed through the kitchen doors in the diner, bright and early the next morning.
I opened my mouth in mock shock. “Are you saying I’m usually a grumpy bitch?”
He chuckled. “Not at all, but you look like the cat that got the cream.” I thought about making a pussy joke, but I’d not known these people long enough to let them know just how dry my sense of humour could be.
I wiggled my eyebrows instead. “Just get to work.”
He offered me a nod before turning back to what he was cooking in the fryer.
We were busy all morning, and when we had a lull in customers, I poured a coffee and leaned on the counter, unfolding the newspaper someone had left there.
A story on the front page caught my eye, and I froze as I stared at the familiar face.
Unease sat heavy in my stomach, my coffee long forgotten as I tried to block out memories I’d fought hard to forget, despite their existence being carved into the very core of who I was.
I blinked them away, refusing to acknowledge the link between the story I was reading and the life I’d lived.
It was gone. Over. Forgotten. Despite the facts telling me otherwise.
The door opened, bringing with it the fresh from the storm air and a rather stern-looking face I was more than happy to see.
Despite how angry he appeared, having Roman here settled something inside me, making me feel safer than I had a moment ago.
And while I should hate someone having that effect on me, it was nice to bask in it briefly.
He stalked towards me and held out his hand, my keys in his palm. “Car’s fixed. It’s parked outside.”
I scowled. “You didn’t—”
He curled his hand around my keys and extended a finger, pressing it to my lips so I couldn’t finish.
“You took my car, Hana. I need it back, but you also need a car, so I got yours fixed. You can thank me later.” His expression remained fixed and hard, but the slight raise in his eyebrow told me there was innuendo behind his words.
“You wish,” I muttered.
He sighed and dropped his hand, placing my keys on the counter.
“Give me your phone.” I stared at him, unmoving. “Phone, Hana.”
This time, I gave in, reaching into my back pocket for my phone, unlocking it, and handing it to him. He twisted slightly, leaning on the counter, typing something into it before giving it back.
“Now you have my number. Not so I can rescue you, you understand, but maybe if you want some late-night chats.”
I chuckled. “Don’t you want me to call you so you have my number?”
He gave me a look like it was a stupid suggestion. “Already have it. I’m a man of many talents, remember?”
“You’re a psycho… possibly a stalker. This is just more evidence of that.”
He leaned in closer so only I could hear what he said next. “Would that be such a bad thing? Having someone look out for you?”
I didn’t reply because it would. The last person who looked out for me cut me off and then died; the one before that…
I shuddered at the thought, sucking in a breath as I recoiled.
Roman took me in, his eyes assessing like he could read my thoughts, and I definitely didn’t want anyone knowing about my past.
His expression softened. “Hey, I promise. I’m not here to make your life harder.
” I nodded, glad that he seemed to understand without me having to explain.
“But I’m here. If and when you need me.” And with that, he took his car keys, which were tucked to the side on the counter, and walked away without another word.