Chapter 32
Ryder
Me:
Two guys tried to grab her outside Atlantis.
Shit is getting serious.
The Russian Prick:
Germans?
Me:
How the fuck am I supposed to know? I was too busy hitting them in the face to ask whether they preferred Bratwurst or Cumberland.
The Russian Prick:
…
“Who are you texting?” Violet asked, her tone quiet.
I immediately pocketed my phone, ignoring the vibration. “No one important.”
So, I was getting the impression she wasn’t impressed with my use of persuasion. Personally, I thought the knife worked well, considering she was with me and not being shipped to fuck knows where with those two idiots.
Seriously, there were too many people circling. Too many variables and moving parts. Every second we delayed was just another chance for something to go wrong.
“Don’t say I never give you anything,” I said, dramatically gesturing to the two beds. “Sometimes I think I spoil you too much.”
She only exhaled, soft and tired. “What about our stuff?”
“I’ll have a friend grab it.” I shrugged.
“Going back to the last hotel would be suicide. You’ve already been tracked once.
I don’t think it’s wise to give them another shot.
” Her silence lingered, so I added, “Just so you know, you’re paying for this one.
Being your babysitter is costing me a small fortune. ”
That earned me a sharp glare in return, and I barely suppressed my grin at the usual spark in her eyes. They’d dimmed slightly since she’d been unceremoniously dragged down a darkened street by her hair. But now her bite was back.
She was resilient, I’d give her that. Most people would just beg and cry in that situation. But she fought back, clinging to that relentless optimism of hers, convinced things would somehow be okay even when the situation was anything but.
Ignorant, that was the word.
Most likely delusional, too.
“Come on, blondie,” I said, stepping into the bathroom and rummaging through the cabinet until I found a first-aid kit. I knew she’d follow; she was too curious not to.
Sure enough, her reflection appeared in the mirror behind me, arms crossed, chin tilted in defiance. Reaching for her, I grabbed her waist and placed her on the edge of the counter beside the sink before she could protest.
“Ryder!” she scowled.
“Violet,” I mimicked, amused when I leaned in just close enough to watch her breath hitch. “Stop squirming.”
I held out a hand, palm up. After a moment’s hesitation, she placed hers in mine. The skin was torn, a thin line of blood with tiny flecks of grit still caught beneath. I started cleaning it gently, the scent of antiseptic sharp in the air. Violet hissed through her teeth, but she didn’t move away.
“You always have to play hero, huh?” I murmured, brushing over the cut with a shake of my head. “Next time, go for the balls. Ends fights faster.”
“You’re one to talk,” she muttered, but her voice had lost its edge. “How are your fists?”
I laughed under my breath. “Trust me, blondie, I’m far from the hero.”
Reaching for her other hand, she gave it up without a word. I could feel the pulse in her wrist, quick, matching mine.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
I glanced up, meeting her eyes. “For what?”
She looked so small, sitting there with her hair damp and blood-splattered dress clinging to her curves. “You know, for saving me.”
My grip tightened just slightly, my chest twisting with something I didn’t want to name.
Twice now I’d lost control. Both times because of her. Clearly, she was a menace to society, or at least to me. It made me want to close the distance, to see if the spark between us was real or just another kind of danger.
Which was ridiculous, because the last time I’d kissed her had been a mistake.
One I hadn’t stopped thinking about since.
Fuck.
Violet was testing my control—again—and still, I stepped between her legs like I couldn’t help myself. Her lips parted, soft and inviting, like she could hear every unspoken thought unravelling inside my head.
It was like she was my very own, personal poison. Designed to crack me open and shatter the pieces I’d tried so hard to hold together. Made to ruin me from the inside out.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warned, my voice coming out rougher than I’d meant it to. “You’ll make me think you actually like me.”
She bristled. “I don’t.”
I braced my hands on either side of the counter, leaning forward until my lips almost brushed hers. “Liar.”