6. Chapter 6
Chapter six
‘Lias
Two days ago, I sat in Sadie’s kitchen and listened to her read paragraphs directly out of her textbook—an hour well spent.
Once four in the morning rolled around, I took the cinderblock-like book out of her tired hands and ushered her into the shower.
When she emerged, dressed in a chocolate-colored silk short-pajama set that made her blue eyes pop, she crawled into her oversized bed while I set up shop in a nearby chair.
We talked and talked, until she finally passed out and I got to look at her for a little while longer.
“Dad has had this event planned for a while. Don’t crash it; we have a lot of people to impress.” Her words trail into a yawn.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you know people with money come with bad intentions.”
“Sunshine, what they do with their money isn’t my concern. You’ll be the only person there I care about.”
“And that’s the problem. I’ll be fine—don’t need a damn bodyguard. Promise me you won’t show up.”
My teeth grind together. With my right leg crossed over the opposite knee, my foot bounces, trying to expend retaliatory energy before I speak.
“Fine. I promise I won’t crash it.”
I was gone before she woke.
Her parents leave Monday and tonight is the event. I made a promise not to crash it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go as an attendee. She thinks I’m in Oregon, but you’d be an idiot to think I’d let her be in a room full of predators.
Kace had the guest list sitting in my email before the sun crept past the horizon—one text was all it took to see who’d be surrounding his family.
Recognizing too many names, I shot him a text back to let him know the risk he was taking.
He’s aware, cautious, but that’s not enough.
Especially with one very conniving woman who won’t be speaking to Sadie under any fucking circumstances—promise you.
Thankfully, Kace has made it clear the guests are not to hold conversations with her or her mother, but something tells me the good Sister will still have an interest in my girl.
If the shrew has any intentions on relaying information to Lucien, I’ll put a bullet in her head. I’ve killed many times in the service, and despite having guns aimed at me, existing is all it takes to put her life on the line. The safest thing she can do is avoid Sadie like the damn plague.
Instead of making a scene, because I promised not to, I’m dressed as well as a man on my salary can be while lurking in the shadows. It’s easier to piss Sadie off and get her to leave on her own, than play damage control if that serpent-woman finds her first.
Leaning against a wall blanketed in darkness, lights illuminate the event area while a hundred or so people talk and dance like they’re not here for charity, flaunting their pocket change and grandeur.
From here, I shoot a text to Sadie. I’ve been watching her from across the room all night, walking around in a deep purple dress with warm undertones that clings sinfully to her curves.
Hearing her phone ding all the time drives her mad, which amuses me more than anything. Despite having figured out how to put it on Do Not Disturb, I programmed my number to bypass the setting and sing anyway. Seeing her tense, without immediately looking at the message, I send her another.
On a plush couch beside Nadia, who looks just as stunning in her deep-green gown, Sadie practically vibrates with annoyance.
Nadia’s hair is tied back showing her neck and collarbones; silver streaks catch a few rogue streams of colored lights as they sweep across the room—Sadie’s practically glows.
Saddling up next to her, Kace peers down at his wife and daughter when he speaks. If I focus, I could read his lips, but I’m adamantly interested in Sadie. Not event plans, attendees, or his wife.
Finally, a text reaches my phone. Sadie hits me with her typical barrage of ‘fuck off,’ ‘go away,’ and attitude.
Poor thing’s pissed I’m here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m a masochist with how fond of her verbal beatings I am.
Her next response pulls my attention away from the floor, and shifts the conversational weight from playful to wanting to chain her to my bed.
Sunshine
We were only supposed to be friends. Why are you making this more than what it’s meant to be? You helped them save me. Congratulations. Now, go back to whatever it was you were doing before you came into my life.
Over my dead fucking body.
Me
I can’t. I won’t. I found you when you were a shell of the young woman you are now. There was no way in hell I was letting you return to a life where you may be hurt again. I trust your parents to keep you safe but there will be times where they’re not there, but trust me when I say, I will be.
I’ve watched you graduate high school. Start college, go on excursions with your dad, get your first tattoo, do all the cool things you’re now capable of doing, but I’ve also watched you break.
Seen the way your eyes go vacant, witnessed you take one too many pills, and I won’t let you continue to do that to yourself, Sadie. I can’t lose someone like that again.
Berating myself, I flick my eyes to watch her as she shoots another message back seconds later.
That was more than I wanted to confess, especially the shit at the end.
Fuck. It’s not a lie. I can’t handle losing someone else but there…
there’s shit I refuse to put on her. Not yet, not when I’m trying to get her to come back around.
Dragging her into business that isn’t hers to worry about may fuck things up.
Who the hell am I lying to—it hurts to think about. Practically guts me when I reminisce over my military days and see my best friend alive. Wishing he was standing beside me, breathing and whole.
My past isn’t Sadie’s problem, and I’m ready to kick myself in the fucking teeth for mentioning it to her; for trying to guilt her into cooperating instead of assuring her.
Hesitant to look at the text, I do anyway.
Sunshine
You’re a fucking creep.
What does that even mean?
Time to lie, or deflect, or steer the conversation a different way. Anything to get it off of him.
Me
Perhaps, but I’m a creep with your best interest at heart, and I’ll be damned if I let some punk ass attitude of yours keep me from making sure you’re safe. As for the rest, means you’re stuck with me.
Sunshine is typing…
Me
Before you finish that sentence, Sunshine, I would advise you not to say anything that could piss me off. I’m liable to do something drastic, and we both know how that can pan out.
Sunshine
:) Go to hell.
Fucking brat.
If I wasn’t already gray, she’d be the one to turn my black hair ghostly. Her middle name should be Stress. She’s sin incarnate with punishable skin I’m eager to turn pink, and curves I want to memorize with more than just my eyes.
Yeah…I’m attached.
I want her. It took her punching me in my mouth and the terror on her face for that damn puzzle piece to slide into place. While I’ve watched her, stalked almost everything she’s done, it’s now…I want her now.
There’s no more thinking, mulling over the what if’s and how comes.
I want this woman in my hands, against me, beside, under, and in front of me.
Hanging onto my words, dishing back as much sass as her mouth can spew, and taking everything I give her.
I want her begging, crying, and falling apart in my bed as I show her how to silence those voices in her head.
It took me years to see it but Mav isn’t the only one Dominic sent to me. This girl… this Spawn of fucking Satan was born to be mine.
It’s time to teach my brat a long-deserved lesson, and what better time than the present?
Me
To your three o’clock, Spawn.
If I wasn’t annoyed with her behavior, the way her head snaps up might’ve made me laugh—she knows her directions. Sharp blues look right at me but can’t quite lock on thanks to the shadow of heavy drapery I stand near.
One step forward’s all she gets, a sliver of light grazes my hands and suit—I see it then, her spine straightening with awareness.
Then her eyes connect with mine, a silent discussion passing across the venue where my stare is either going to thrill her or set her off.
Both of which I’ll be more than happy to deal with.
Setting down my drink, I walk away. She’s too curious to let me disappear into the darkness—not when she has every intention of making me answer for my broken promises.
Technically I’ve done no such thing, but she won’t see it like that, and after all of her pushing and fighting? She’s feeding on the tension as much as I am.
Let’s see if you can keep up, Spawn.
Moving through the venue, I grab my suit jacket and pull it over my shoulders without stopping.
There’s a grand staircase outside of the main entrance with terraces circling the building that deliver you to opulent gardens—well suited for cocktail hour.
The perfect space for indoor lightshows and dancing to transition into business dealings.
The obnoxious click of her heels is all it takes to infect my blood with hunger.
It’s devouring her, too—interest avalanching between us.
In our last few encounters, I’ve noticed the small ways her body has begun to respond to mine: dilated eyes, fixing her posture, closeness without running, and bodily temperature spikes.
Sadie probably doesn’t realize she’s doing it, but she also dances on the fine line between my encouragement and punishment.
Today, unfortunately for her, is the latter.
Her platinum hair and the plum color of her dress are all I see pass through the door before I grab her.
Yanking her out of the light and into the dark, I force her nearly naked back against the cold marble wall.
Her gasp makes my dick jump behind the zipper of my slacks, my body in tune with my thoughts.
As if the heavens are answering the silent question, her pupils swell—likely medicated, but focused… on me.