Chapter 19
Kellin
This shit-fuck rolls on the ground, heaving for breath, and I kick him in the stomach for good measure—twice—before focusing on Maeve.
Maeve…
Her face is flushed in the soft stairwell lighting, but not in the way I like. A suspiciously hand-shaped mark is forming on her cheek, and her clothes sit mussed and rumpled on her body. Apart from that, she appears unscathed. But if I hadn’t received the alert when I did…
My fingers flex as fury unlike anything I’ve ever experienced blazes through me. I want to shred this man into tiny pieces and feed them to the sharks, but I’ll settle for squeezing the life out of the bastard and watching the light die in his eyes.
Maeve must read my intentions, because she shakes her head. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”
She shivers as she inspects my face, and I realize my rage is scaring her. Digging deep, I summon enough control to at least temporarily ignore my murderous impulses.
I reach out to Maeve but stop before touching her. “Are you okay?”
With one hand fisted against her stomach, she nods.
“I need to hear you say it, Maeve.”
She exhales, her shoulders losing some of their tension. “I’m okay.”
Behind me, the cocksucker on the floor coughs. I hoist him back into a sitting position with my foot and crouch down to his level. “You so much as glance at her again, and a dislocated shoulder will be the least of your worries. Do you understand?”
He heaves, his eyes red and his face pale from the pain, but doesn’t answer.
Good. I wanted an excuse.
I straighten and kick him again, lower and closer to the groin. “You understand, you piece of shit?”
He squeaks out a grunt while scrambling to put distance between us. The predator in me enjoys watching him behave like prey.
“Yeah, yeah.” He chokes on spit as he gropes for the stair railing. “Got it.” Pulling himself up, he limps his way down the steps to the next landing. At the exit door, he peers back up at me with a scowl. “Fuck you.”
I glare him down, savoring the way he pales when I smile.
We don’t need to exchange any more words. He won’t forget my face.
Once the door shuts, I check on Maeve. She’s bent over, picking up a bottle off the floor.
Pepper spray.
That explains the tangy, acrid capsicum scent lingering in the air.
She attempts to fake a smile. “Whole lot of good this stuff did me.”
I’d explain that no one her size would stand a chance after that filthy pig blindsided them, but I doubt my claim would soothe her.
Hearing “it’s inevitable” isn’t especially reassuring.
“Come on. I’ll walk you to your suite.”
She balks. “My suite? How did you..?”
Shit. I forgot that Maeve insinuated that she lived in another location. Probably not a good idea to tell her how thoroughly I researched her prior to arriving. “One of your employees must have mentioned it.”
With a gentle hand on her back, I guide her to the stairwell exit but hesitate at the door. My urges pull me in two different directions. The fury still rages in my blood, every instinct screaming at me to hunt Declan’s man down like an animal and slit his throat.
I don’t usually enjoy killing, but for him I’d make an exception.
Maeve needs me, though, and I won’t abandon her.
I console the beast inside me with a reminder.
Soon. That fucker’s days are numbered.
She keys us into her sixth-floor room. As soon as the door closes, she clings to my neck, her face buried against my shoulder. “Thank you.”
I hold her and stroke her hair. “Shh. You’re okay, Maeve. You’re safe.”
We remain locked in this position until her trembling ceases.
When she finally straightens, she ducks her chin and chews on her bottom lip.
Still upset? Or embarrassed?
I wait her out, forcing myself to remain patient.
After a moment, she sighs and shakes her head. “I should’ve been able to handle him.”
I tuck her back against my chest, burying my nose in her hair. “You could have. You’re strong. A fighter. But you don’t need to be if I’m here.”
My gut twists. A fucked-up thing to say, considering I’m here to steal from her thieving family.
But I mean every word. As long as I’m here, I’ll keep her safe.
I argue with myself that the instinct stems my mission.
A lie.
I want to protect her. Because I want her.
I’m so incredibly fucked.
Guess I’ll worry about that later.
I press my mouth to her ear. “Why don’t you point me in the direction of that wine you mentioned? I’ll open it while you—”
“Scrub that beast off me?”
I laugh. She took the words right out of my mouth. “Yeah, that.”
Tipping her chin up, I swallow an enraged growl at the sight of her swelling cheek. I should have cut off that fucker’s hand.
Gently, I trace the wounded flesh. “I’ll grab you some ice while you shower. I think the Rocky Balboa look on you is hot as fuck, but a few of your elderly guests may disagree.”
I’m relieved to see her smiling when we break apart. Knowing that the bastard didn’t steal her sense of humor or tarnish her essence eases the tightness in my chest.
She really is strong. Definitely Declan’s daughter, in that sense.
I never thought I’d respect her as much as I do, but damn, she’s not at all the spoiled princess I expected.
Maeve grabs a change of clothes and heads into the bathroom. Following her instructions, I march into the kitchenette to retrieve the Rothschild from the wine cooler.
Not fifteen minutes later, Maeve returns, refreshed and smiling, dressed in a soft, worn t-shirt and a pair of plain blue sweat pants. Her dark hair, damp and combed off her face, hangs down her back in a wet curtain. I itch to run my fingers through the strands.
No signs of the earlier trembling remain. She seems calm. Relaxed.
I refuse to think about why the sight soothes the raw ends of my nerves.
I hand her ice wrapped in a hand towel. While she applies it to her cheek, I pour us both a glass of the decanted wine. Then I take Maeve’s elbow and tug her over to the cream-colored sofa.
She sinks into the cushions with a content sigh. “What were you even doing in the stairwell? I screamed, but I know you couldn’t hear that from your suite.”
I wrap one arm around the back of the couch, not quite touching her. “Coming to meet you, of course.”
“Twenty-five minutes early?”
“I like to be prompt.”
I can’t tell her the truth. I can’t tell her that Rory was checking the video feeds and saw Shout attack her and warned me. I flew out of my room like the place was on fire.
The fury that seized me when that monster put his hands on her for the second time was stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced before. Like a rush of deadly venom through my veins.
If she hadn’t hovered a few feet away, I would’ve smashed his head into the concrete right then and there.
Maeve shifts beside me, drawing my attention back to her. “Well, your punctuality saved my life.”
I click my tongue against my teeth. “I don’t know about that. You were putting up a pretty good fight.”
“Which I think was causing more of a problem.”
I grit my teeth against the fresh wave of anger because I know she’s right. Animals like him feed on the struggles of weaker prey.
Reminding myself of the impending payback coming for him, I curl my arm around her shoulders. Her solid form reassures me that she’s okay.
After we both finish our glasses of this spectacular wine, she pours us more.
She seems all right—body relaxed, a soft smile on her face—but more quiet than I’m used to seeing her. Harder to read.
Maybe she’d prefer to be alone after that mess in the stairwell, but I don’t want to leave her.
She swirls her glass, her eyes sliding to mine. “I’m sorry. This isn’t the evening I had in mind for us. I’m sure there are other things you’d rather be doing.”
I cock my head. “Hey, don’t do that. I have no expectations. And I promise you, I’m exactly where I want to be. I’m here for whatever you need. Do you want to talk about what happened?”
She sighs and hunches forward. “Not really. I don’t even want to think about it, but my brain won’t let it go. And not just the assault. The part where you rescued me too.” She gives a helpless little shrug. “But the wine is great.”
“It is. So is the company.” I drain my second glass and set it down. “If you want to be alone, though, I can leave.”
My chest loosens when she shakes her head. “Unless you need to go.”
“No, I want to stay here with you.”
And I do.
I can’t just walk out on her after that.
I don’t want to walk out on her, period.
“Okay. I’d like that too.”
She finishes her wine and licks her lips. I pry the glass from her hand. “Refill?”
“No. I’m okay.” She drops the ice pack onto the table and folds her hands in her lap. “I’d just like to forget about what happened.” Her fingers twitch a little, then one hand lifts and finds a home on my knee.
“Maeve.” I place my hand over hers, squeezing her fingers. They feel so small beneath my palm. “I can stay here and sleep on the couch so you feel safe.”
I cringe. Sleep on the couch? What the hell am I doing? I can tell myself this is all part of my seduction plan, but I know the truth.
I care about her feelings. Even though I shouldn’t. The two of us have no future.
But here and now, none of that matters. All that does is ensuring Maeve’s okay. Once she recovers a little, we can return to business as usual.
Determination steels her expression. “No.”
My heart sinks. “Should I leave?”
Reluctantly, I start to rise.
She snags my sleeve and pushes me back down. “No! Please stay. I meant I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.”
My pulse accelerates. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
I barely dare to breathe as I wait for her reply while brushing my thumb over her palm. “Or, if you’d prefer to erase that bastard from your memory, I can help you do that too.”
Her chest rises and falls. “I want you to stay…in my bed and erase the feel of that bastard’s hands from my memory.”
I catch both of her hands in mine and study her face for even the faintest hint of uncertainty. “I would like nothing better, but only if you’re absolutely sure.”
“I am.”
She answers without hesitation, strength in her posture and fire in her eyes.
Slowly, so as not to startle her, I press a tender kiss to her cheekbone. Her temple. The corner of her mouth.
Maeve accepts none of my caution. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulls me on top of her on the couch. She forcefully molds her mouth to mine and shoves her tongue inside.
I follow her lead, groaning as I toss my reservations aside and meet her thrust for thrust.