3. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
S weat beaded on the soon-to-be dead asshole’s face as Ramiro stalked toward him.
The knife pressed harder into Summer’s neck. “I mean it, stay back!”
A drop of blood slid down her throat, and Ramiro froze, his body vibrating.
The man with his filthy hands on Summer sneered, like he didn’t realize his life was down to seconds. He wasn’t anyone Ramiro recognized, but that didn’t even matter.
The fear in Summer’s eyes was all that mattered.
Ramiro held her gaze, watching the panic fade from it as she focused on him.
“The Guzmans wanted to get your attention,” the asshole taunted, rubbing his face against Summer’s hair. “Fuck, she smells sweet. ”
The knife lifted from her skin when the asshole took a deeper breath.
Ramiro lunged, his hand closing around the man’s wrist, jerking it away from Summer’s throat. He twisted his grip and plunged the knife into the asshole’s neck.
A shocked gurgle followed the man as he crumpled to the carpet.
Ramiro pulled Summer into his body, and she burrowed her face into his chest, his suit muffling her sob.
“I’ve got you.” He swept her up in his arms, carrying her into his office and settling in one of the chairs with her still in his arms. “I’ve got you.”
Her body shook against his, and he pulled her in tighter, trying to absorb her shudders.
“You’re okay, baby girl. No one’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them.”
Her breath hitched, and her fingers tightened on his jacket. She lifted her head. The sight of her tears made his throat close.
“You called me ‘baby girl.’” The words were a husky whisper. “You never do that anymore.”
His hand looked big as he cupped her face, his thumb stroking to dry the path of her tears, hoping more wouldn’t follow. “Sorry. It just slipped out.”
“I liked it,” Summer said, sending a bolt inside his stomach. She fell forward again, her face pressed against his neck this time. “Makes me feel safe. ”
“You are safe,” he murmured, but guilt twisted inside his chest. The Guzmans ran the cartel. It had been months since one of his men had slaughtered a group of theirs. He’d expected retaliation, but when none came, he’d assumed they’d taken the bodies as a message not to fuck with him or his men.
The message must have worn off.
“He surprised me,” she mumbled, her breathing still uneven.
“I know.” His hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers brushing over her hair. The asshole had dared to touch her. Ramiro needed to wipe any trace of that touch away.
“I really hate surprises,” Summer muttered into his shirt.
Ramiro snorted. “There’s my organized and structured girl.”
She let out her own soft laugh, her hands easing their death grip on his clothes. She began stroking over his chest instead. “You like that I keep things neat and tidy.”
“I do,” he admitted. Though, if she’d been a storm of chaos, he would have liked that too. He just liked her, and he really liked her touching him.
He cut the thought off before it could stir his ever-hovering need into existence.
Holding her should have reminded him of the night they’d met, and he tried to remember that feeling, the one where he only wanted to protect her. He still wanted her safe, but having her in his arms highlighted all the ways she’d changed. Her frail, thin body was no more. She was round and curved and soft under his hands. Summer was a woman, one he’d been noticing for far too long .
All his careful avoidance from touching her was blown away in an instant.
Her hand firmed, pushing her body up so she could look at him. Her lips were close, too close, and he wanted to groan with how hard it was not to close those few inches.
“Was he after you, Ram?” Her brow creased as she searched his eyes. “Are you in trouble?”
He let his thumb swipe her other cheek dry. “That’s not for you to worry about.”
Summer frowned, her lips twisting into almost a pout, one he imagined nibbling on. He was a fucking asshole. There was a dead body in the other room, and she was recovering from a shock.
Maybe a distraction would help , the devil inside him whispered.
She sighed, her expression easing. “I know. You don’t want me to get caught up in this any more than I have.”
His hand covered hers, lifting it and pressing a kiss into her palm. “For your own protection.”
She nodded, but there was a tightness to the smile that formed, proving it was fake. Her hand tugged back on his grip. “I’m fine now.”
Ramiro released her, and she scrambled off his lap. Her gaze drifted toward the reception area, and her face paled.
“It’s okay to not be fine,” he reminded her. He stood, blocking her view of the body. “In fact, I think you should take tomorrow off. ”
Her head snapped up, and her eyes locked on his. “That’s not necessary!”
“It’ll take at least that long to get this place tidy how you like it.” He wanted to reach for her again, touch her, but dug his fingers into his slacks instead.
“I could—”
“You’re not helping with this, Summer.”
Her chin dropped.
“You shouldn’t be alone, though, not after a scare like that.” It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her to his place, but that would only end one way.
“I’m going out with Derek tonight. I’ll stay over at his place after.”
Ramiro didn’t like that idea at all. “Are you sure you want to go there? Weren’t you two having problems?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Ramiro reached out, nudging her chin up so she’d look at him. “The truth.”
She pushed his hand away, making his skin cold. “That is the truth. He wasn’t a jerk or anything. I just…” A small shrug tipped up her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her torso. “I’ve been stuck in my head lately. You know how I can get. I can be hard to be around sometimes.”
Ramiro felt even colder. It almost sounded like the nightmares were back. “You’re never hard to be around. If he’s making you feel that way, then he really is a prick. ”
She smiled again. “It’s not about him, not really. This will give us a chance to talk things out.”
“Summer, if—”
“Ram!” Diego shouted.
Ramiro turned in time to catch Diego’s glare down at the corpse. “What are you doing here?”
Diego lifted his hand, his cell phone gripped in it. “I heard the scream. Thought you could use some backup.”
“You’re treating me like Naz. I don’t need protection, Diego.”
“Fuck off,” Diego said. He was still a little sore that the kid had gotten so badly injured not long ago. Diego had a soft spot for the asset he’d brought in. “It looks like I arrived for cleanup. Who was this fucker?”
Ramiro stared at the dead asshole. It was the middle of the afternoon, which would be a pain in the ass for disposing of the body.
Summer made a noise in her throat as she peered around him. Her face was back to being too pale.
“Can you follow Summer home?” Ramiro’s fingers snaked around her wrist, squeezing in comfort when her gaze returned to him. “Make sure no one tails her?”
Diego agreed.
Summer didn’t protest. She never did. She understood that doing what he told her kept her safe, and her safety kept him sane .
He’d always appreciated that she never fought him in that way. It made things easier than they could have been. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it if she ever acted recklessly.
When she moved to follow Diego out, Ramiro squeezed her wrist instead of dropping it. Her lashes were still damp from the scare she’d had, but there was something else in her eyes, something that made him worry. “If you end up needing a place to stay, call me.”
“I will,” she said, but her voice sounded flat. She always was a shit liar.
“I mean it, Summer.” He squeezed again. “I want you safe. Don’t go home alone tonight.”
“I won’t. I’ll ask for help if I need it.” She smiled at him, and her smile looked a little smoother this time. “Don’t I always?”
That smile should have reassured him, but it didn’t. She was lying again, but this time she was lying to herself.
He watched her leave with Diego, wanting to snatch her up into his arms again instead.
Summer never asked for help; he had to bully her into accepting it. Her self-worth was tied to always being fine on the outside, no matter how much she was falling apart inside. Demanding attention was the worst thing she could do in her mind.
So Ramiro had learned to watch her closely and to step in when she began to spiral.
He needed to step in now.
Instead, there was a fucking body to deal with .
He should have made Diego handle that part, but he had his own toxic trait. How long had he been running away from taking what would be so easy to have? Summer was already his—his to ruin.
He sent off a text. If he was going to be miserable, he might as well share that misery with one of his men. It’d also make the cleanup go faster, so he’d be available if Summer called.