20. Paul
20
Paul
T he way this woman could be magnificently stunning, drive his cock wild, and annoy the living shit out of Paul was astounding. Yes, he’d jumped on the contract to kill her, but he hadn’t done it yet. Playing these stupid games was pointless. She needed to eat.
Her gaze held his as she slowly opened her mouth.
Not as hard as he would like, he offered her food. Leaning forward slightly, she accepted the bite.
Sighing heavily, he put the fork down and scrubbed at his forehead while she chewed. This migraine would never go away in her presence if he wasn’t honest with her—and himself.
“I’m not going to do it,” he admitted.
Swallowing, she stared at him. “Do what?”
He glared. Now she wanted to play coy? “Kill you.”
They sat quietly for a while, neither of them moving or looking at each other. His gaze was locked on the floor as he racked his brain for more words to explain his situation—the conflicting emotions warring in his gut. But nothing came to mind.
So he would just enjoy the quiet for however long it lasted.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze to her throat. The chunky gold chain still adorned her neck. After everything, she still hadn’t taken it off. These emotions weren’t one-sided.
“Why did you keep it?” he asked, reaching up to finger the toggle. He’d wondered the same about his lighter and truly had no definitive answer. At least not one he would allow himself to admit.
Her cheeks tinged a shade of pink, and she turned to focus on her salad, shoving romaine lettuce and chicken around with her fork. “It’s pretty.”
“That’s all?” Clearly, she lied. He may not have been around Harper for over a decade, but he could tell when she wasn’t being truthful.
Fishing around in his pocket, he curled his fingers around the lighter. Pulling it out, he slapped it on the table and studied her reaction.
She paused stirring her salad and stared at the square piece of metal she’d given him.
“I don’t have a good reason for keeping that, but I did,” he said.
Slowly, she lifted her eyes and found his. The storm behind those brown irises was clear. She was just as confused about her feelings for him as he was about his. The only way to make any of this better was to lay the cards out on the table. Paul had to confess, to the best of his ability, his reason.
“It meant something to me because it came from you,” he admitted softly. “I don’t know why you live rent free in my brain, but you do. And now this.” He gestured around them. “I couldn’t let someone else take you out. I thought I could do it respectfully, but I can’t.”
Saying it out loud took the weight off his shoulders. Maybe if he kept going, he could clear his mind and finally come up with a reasonable way out of this mess—a way for both of them to survive.
Her mouth turned down into a frown, and her gaze softened.
He reached out and cupped her red, swollen, scratched cheek. “You’ve got me so out of sorts, I can’t breathe. I started a goddamn war because of you.”
“I—”
He covered her lips with his thumb to silence her. “I’d do it again.” Taking a breath, he contemplated his next words before they fell from his lips. “I’ll massacre entire syndicates for you. Lay them to waste if they so much as look at you the wrong way.”
She tilted her head into his hand, nuzzling it slightly.
He continued. “Anything to keep you safe. I’ll protect you from anyone.”
“Paul,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.
Scooting to the end of the chair, his face was so close to hers, he could feel her breath dancing over his chin. Swallowing hard, it was time to admit something he never thought was possible.
“Harper, I don’t know when it happened or how. This shit started twelve years ago, and it continues today. From the first day I saw you, our first unplanned kiss, to right now, I’ve known it on some level but never admitted it to anyone, let alone myself. It’s time I said it so we both know what’s going on here. You’re mine—always have been, always will be. And I’m yours. We both know it. No one touches what is mine. I will protect you with everything I have—until I take my last breath.”
His words hung heavily between them. There was way more to this than just two people coming to terms with their feelings for each other. It’d been complicated before, when they were just from two different syndicates. Now she was a lawyer and prosecuted people like him. They couldn’t be worse for each other. The contracts on their heads only made their situation that much more inconceivable.
There was no clear path forward.
“Wh-what am I supposed to do with that?” she asked as she leaned back and away from him.
He considered the question as she shook her head, staring at the table.
“It was bad enough when you turned my world upside down back in the day,” she said as she stood.
Peering up at her, he cocked his head, confused at the anger in her tone. He’d just confessed his long-lasting devotion to her, his commitment to her safety and protection, and she was mad? It made little sense. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this.
Covering her face, she let out a loud, rough sigh before she raked her fingers through her hair. “You can’t just say shit like that.”
Slowly, he rose to his feet as she paced. “Why not?”
“You showed up intending to murder me.”
“I’d never be able to do it.”
“That doesn’t change the intent.”
“Are you dead?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and let out another cry of rage before glaring at him. “Paul, what the fuck is going on?”
He furrowed his brow. She couldn’t mean that literally. She was very aware of everything. He did his best to figure out how to answer her.
“I left Oklahoma because I didn’t want to be a part of this.” She gestured around in a circle. “All this illegal stuff.”
He nodded. This wasn’t new information, but he let her continue. It’d be the only way for both of them to sort all this out.
“I’m a prosecutor,” she said matter-of-factly. “I put people like you behind bars.”
He closed the distance between them until they were standing nose to nose.
Her voice shook. “If we survive this—”
“You will,” he asserted as he cupped her jaw again.
Tears welled in her eyes. Her bottom lip quivered. His chest tightened at the confusion behind her irises.
“ We ,” she said again. “If we make it out of this fucked-up situation. Then what? It doesn’t matter if we care about each other—”
He couldn’t help it. His grin grew. “So it’s mutual?”
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she felt the same way about him that he did for her, but he’d be damned if he would let her get away without admitting it. Everything else could be sorted out later, but at this moment, he needed to know exactly where they stood.
Not that it would change his protection of her. He’d do that always, no matter what she said, but he needed to know where she stood on this—from her, not just his own beliefs.
Closing her eyes, Harper drooped. Her forehead pressed against his, and she rested her hands on the insides of his elbows. “You know it is,” she whispered.