19
Violet
T he short walk upstairs banished the soporific effects of Broadway’s touch, but I still fold myself into bed. Pulling a fluffy blanket over myself, I close my eyes, hoping to catch a wink of sleep while there’s some noise in the house.
It’s distant, but there: the hiss of the water pipes, the flush of the toilet, the thud of faraway footsteps.
My mind calms and starts switching off but just as I start teetering on the tightrope between sleep and awareness, a heavy tread reaches my ears, much louder than those downstairs.
And much closer.
My heart immediately spikes. The bedroom Carter gave me is on the other side of the house to his and Hailey’s. Since I’ve been here, only two people have ventured toward my room: Hailey and the maid. Their footsteps are soft, light, and I’ve learned their rhythm after a few scares.
These are very different. Loud, heavy, distinctly male. Whoever they belong to stops outside my door and my pulse skyrockets.
I try to rationalize; I try convincing my mind it’s Carter checking in on me even though he never has before. But my mind isn’t taking any comfort from that because I know it’s not him. Carter stomps with purpose, a man on a mission, always in a hurry.
So, instead of calming down, my brain starts conjuring worst-case scenarios. I see one of the unknown men from downstairs grabbing the handle and shoving the door open. I see him crossing the room, snatching my hair and holding me down while he does whatever the fuck he pleases.
Again, rationally, I know neither Carter nor Broadway would let that happen, but fear doesn’t care about facts.
A knock reverberates through the room. Three knuckle-raps against the hardwood, followed by silence.
Hide. Dive under the bed or he’ll drag you out by your hair.
I hold my breath, eyes on the lock. I didn’t turn the key but if I’m quick, I could dart forward and do it now.
Though I doubt my frail frame would keep the intruder out for long.
What are you doing? Hide.
My eyebrows draw in the middle, rational thoughts taking center stage. If they came to hurt me, they wouldn’t knock, would they?
“Violet?” Broadway’s voice breaches the silence, and my fear dissipates in a flash. All the fight hisses out of me like air from a punctured balloon. The sensation is so powerful it makes my shoulders slump and that annoying voice at the back of my head shuts up.
“Can I come in?” he asks, apparently aware I’m here even though I’ve made myself as small and quiet as possible.
I jump out of the bed, crossing the room to yank the door open. The moment my eyes land on his handsome face I want to jump into his arms, drag his hand to my nape, and make him press those invisible buttons.
“Is everything okay?”
I step aside, let him in, and, without a second thought, let the door close, trapping myself in a confined space with a man twice my size.
He’s so tall. So fucking tall I have to crane my neck to look into his eyes. He’s broad, too. So broad he completely envelopes me in his arms, shielding me from the world with the bulk of his body alone. And his scent... a masculine, soothing combination that wraps itself around my frayed nerves like a softer blanket than the one I was just lying under.
“Carter’s leaving for the weekend with Hailey, Koby, and Ryder,” he says, leaning by the door while I sit cross-legged on the comforter. “I’m staying behind so you’re not alone, but...” He takes a deep breath, pushing away from the wall.
I watch him come closer and crouch by the bed, every move calculated, eyes scanning my face.
With visible hesitancy, he reaches for my hand and his fingers start the same ritual they performed on my neck. This time it’s his thumb drawing tight little circles over the pulse point on my wrist.
It’s so strangely soothing... as if he found a button that makes my body and mind just let go of the tension in my muscles, of the dark thoughts plaguing my mind, of the dreadful feeling of lost control.
I watch him, waiting while he gathers his thoughts, the look in his chocolate-brown eyes so intense it alters my breathing pattern.
“But...?” I prompt, breaking the silence.
As comforting as his presence is, this silence is not. It gnaws at my brain and fills me with unease, battling with the calm evoked by his thumb massaging my wrist.
“He told me how you react whenever a car pulls up or someone enters the house.”
A bright pink flush creeps up my cheeks. It’s so warm I feel it spread down my neck and chest.
Broadway’s eyes follow its path, raising the heat to scorching levels. I’m aware of what he’s talking about, and I’m far from proud.
While I feel safe here, the constant influx of Carter’s men entering and leaving, guards changing, occasional visitors from Chicago or Hailey’s friends... it all makes me jumpy. Less and less every day, but still.
Back at Noretto’s there was a constant stream of people coming and going. However, I always felt fine until the weekend, when every car pulling up the driveway could be the one taking me away.
Here, despite Carter’s protection, I can’t shake the fear that Noretto will come barreling through the door and put me back to work. Or that Vincent, so determined to buy me because of his deep-rooted love for my eyes, will steal me away and lock me in his basement.
As the days go by, it gets easier to push down the irrational fear, but whenever a new face shows up, terror seizes my mind and I feel like prey.
Like I’m being hunted and I’ll end up face down, wrists bound, mouth gagged.
“It’s getting better,” I say, gently squeezing his fingers.
He raises a skeptical brow, the meaning so clear I can almost hear it: Today proves otherwise .
His chest expands as he inhales, impossibly broad, so muscular the white shirt he wears is stretched almost beyond the capacity of the cotton. “How about, while Hailey and Carter are gone, you stay at my place? No one comes there. We always meet here or at Scarlett so it’ll be less... unpredictable. And if come Monday you decide you prefer it here, I’ll bring you back.”
I swallow hard, furrowing my brows. “That’s very... thoughtful, but I can’t impose like that. I already feel like a third wheel around here and—”
“You won’t be imposing, Violet,” he cuts in, tone stern. “I want you close.”
My blood spikes a fever and my stomach drops in the most pleasant way.
“You’ll have the place to yourself most of the time,” he continues, unaware of his words’ effect on me. “Carter’s leaving as we speak. They won’t be back until late Monday.” He increases the pressure on my wrist, lighting up my mind in the most blissful way. “Call it a change of scenery.”
Absolutely not. Hailey won’t be there. No one will be there. He’ll be able to do whatever he wants.
My teeth sink into my lower lip. Broadway’s the only person who doesn’t make me want to run away. He’s my own personal safe heaven... but my illusion of safety might shatter once I leave this house.
Still, the possibility of not worrying about the constant influx of visitors is tempting. It might be relaxing. Besides, it’s just for three days. If I hate it, I can come back.
“Okay... a change of scenery sounds nice.”
You’ll end up crying, hurting, and begging him to let you go.
His shoulders drop an inch, his posture relaxing and features softening from the nervous anticipation. “Good. How long do you need to pack?”
“Not long. Five minutes?”
He bobs his head, releasing my hand as he steps back to give me space.
Space I don’t want.
So fucking stupid. So na?ve.
A rush of adrenaline whips through me when I realize this is the first time I’ve wanted male company. In fact, I wouldn’t mind Broadway’s fingers pressing those sweet spots only he seems to be able to locate while I’m packing a bag, but that would be awkward.
Sliding off the bed, I start pulling things out of the wardrobe. Just enough changes of clothes for the weekend. I can come back for more on Monday if I decide Broadway’s apartment is better for me.
“I’ll ask Hailey for a suitcase,” he says, before I can groan and tell him I don’t have one.
He slips out of the room, closing the door behind him. I finish gathering everything I’ll need, expecting him to let himself in when he’s back.
He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He understands my boundaries without me having to spell them out.
Another knock shakes the door five minutes later. Once the suitcase is packed, Broadway takes me outside where I find the driveway empty, all cars from earlier gone.
He opens the passenger-side door for me and loads my small suitcase into the back before taking the wheel.
The inside of this car smells familiar now. I’ve spent countless hours here, drinking coffee in the middle of the night. I love the lingering scent of leather, combined with an overpowering mix of scents that are distinctly Broadway. Masculine, strong, soothing.
I inhale deeply, buckling up when he starts the engine.
“Where do you live?” I ask, watching his big hand effortlessly twirl the steering wheel.
“Not far from here. I have a top-floor penthouse in the city. Private elevator. No one gets in without the code. Only a handful of people beside me know it so there won’t be any unannounced strangers.”
“Carter, Ryder, Koby,” I mutter, bending one finger for every name.
“My maid and Hailey.”
“Oh... Hailey, right.”
A small smile stretches his lips. “We spent a lot of time together in the safe house after we rescued her from Blaze. Whenever she’s frustrated with Carter, she comes over to drink and play board games.”
“I haven’t seen her frustrated yet.”
“It doesn’t happen so often these days. I think she’s getting used to Carter. He can be very... overprotective, and sometimes takes things too far. I’m sure you’ve noticed Hailey doesn’t leave the house without security.”
“I assumed Noretto’s still after her.”
Broadway shakes his head. “Blaze is crazy, but he’s far from stupid. Touching Hailey now would mean a war he’d have no hope of winning.”
“Then why does she have security?”
He shrugs, another ghost of a smile curling his full mouth. “Carter’s territorial and Hailey’s... well, beautiful. She spends a lot of time at college and college guys are arrogant and promiscuous. Carter doesn’t appreciate any men invading her space, but he’ll tolerate them if they behave. One guy didn’t. He thought showering Hailey with compliments and flowers was appropriate even though he knew she’s taken. Ever since she’s being shadowed by one of Carter’s men.”
I wrinkle my nose at first because it sounds... toxic. Suffocating. It sounds like he doesn’t trust her, but then I sigh because... as wrong as it sounds, I’d like nothing more than someone keeping an eye on me all the time.
It’s a scary world out there.
Being the boss’s girl comes with many risks. She might become a target at any point. She’s already lived through her own nightmare... maybe that’s why she doesn’t complain about the over-the-top security.