Chapter 22
Respect My Boundaries
Eli's Search History: Luxury leather motorcycle jackets with custom embroidery.
Emily
I’ve been living with Eli for two days now. It’s… nice. He’s so attentive. I never want for anything. Graham, the traitor, has made himself right at home.
I’m confused.
After my breakdown I had prepared to pretend. Make him think I was falling in love with him so he would let me out and I could run.
But now… there’s a tiny part of me that’s not sure if it wants to leave.
Insanity.
That’s what this is.
Or a trauma response.
Perhaps I’m developing Stockholm Syndrome. That must be it. There’s no other reason for why my heart lights up when Eli’s in the room. No other reason for why my pants are always soaked when he’s near.
I should be looking for a way out, but my brain is rewiring itself to see my capture as my only source of survival. I’m watching my own mind break, and I’m letting it happen.
“Morning Angel,” Eli says from next to me, because, of course, he wouldn’t hear it when I asked for separate beds.
I hate how comfortable I am being next to him. That sharing a bed isn’t the worst thing in the world. Except when he—
“Eli!” I screech, frustration bubbling up inside me.
He smiles, reaching out to brush my hair away from my face, completely ignoring my raised tone. “Yes, Angel?”
“I’m naked again.”
He rakes his gaze over my exposed body—the heat in them shocks me each time. How can he find me attractive?
“So you are.” He grins at me, mischief rife in his eyes.
“I went to sleep in clothes.” I don’t own pyjamas, but thankfully, I have an abundance of comfy clothes, so I found some shorts and a T-shirt to wear for sleeping. But this is the third morning I’m waking up naked in bed with him.
He’s completely nude too. And of course, he has absolutely no shame with it. His huge, beautiful penis is standing to full attention. The head is leaking pre-cum already.
He taps his chin, sitting up against the headboard. The movement makes his cock bob up and down. I hate that I notice. “Yes. You did. I didn’t like it.”
“You can’t just strip me in my sleep. It’s not okay.”
He frowns. “Why not? You like to sleep naked, it’s more comfortable.”
“I—” Damn him for being right. “Still,” I put on my professional voice, “I’d prefer you to respect my boundaries.”
He nods, solemn. “Okay. I won’t do it again, Angel.”
“Thank you.”
“Does this mean I can’t eat your cunt in your sleep either?”
I choke on my own saliva, coughing with wide eyes. “What?”
“Is that allowed?”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Have… have you done that?”
He dips his chin again, his grin so innocent. “You taste delicious.”
I’m struck speechless for a moment, emotions warring inside me. My cheeks burn. “I… um… No. Eli, you can’t do that.”
He deflates. “Okay.”
Eli rolls out of bed, heading to the ensuite. His perky butt tempts me on his way out the room.
As soon as I’m alone my mind races.
What the fuck?
Seriously. What. The. Fuck.
I can’t believe he—I can’t believe I like that he—
I’m insane.
I know I keep saying it, but it must be true.
It shouldn’t arouse me to know that he’s had his head between my thighs while I’m unconscious. And yet… a sick and twisted part of me wants him to do it again.
No.
Nope.
Not happening.
We are not going there.
When Eli returns, I shoot him an annoyed glare on my way into the bathroom. I shower, though I don’t bother washing my hair, then brush my teeth and quickly dress in some joggers and a shirt.
One thing I am enjoying about not going into work: not wearing uncomfortable clothes. My heart lies with oversized comfort.
Eli isn’t in the bedroom when I get back out. I’m both thankful and disappointed.
I slowly make my way down the stairs, finding him cooking breakfast like he does each morning. Eggs, bacon, sausages, mushrooms, and sauteed potatoes are being plated just as I walk in.
“Thank you,” I tell him, kissing him on the cheek as I take both plates to the table.
Then I freeze.
Why did that feel so natural?
I’m supposed to be pretending.
The doorbell rings just as we’re digging into the delicious meal. Before either of us can move, there’s the sound of a key turning and the front door opening.
My eyes widen, a spike of fear alighting in my chest. Eli shakes his head, looking more frustrated than concerned.
Two seconds later, a man walks in. Giant may be more appropriate. He must be at least six-foot-five, with broad shoulders that are encased in a tight fitted top, highlighting the bulging muscles below.
His expression brightens, taking on a mischievous grin as soon as he spots me. “Well, well, well, who is this beautiful creature?”
My cheeks redden at his words.
Eli growls—an actual growl—then stands, facing the giant of a man. “Do not even look at her,” he hisses at him.
The man holds up his hands in surrender. “No harm meant. Just didn’t know you had company.”
Eli’s shoulders stay tense for a moment before he relaxes them. He looks over at me; the moment his eyes land on me, they light up, a smile breaking out over his features.
“This is my angel, Emily.” He gestures to me, then moves his hand towards the man. “Angel, this is Tyler, my best friend.”
Tyler barks out a laugh. “Only friend, more like.”
I smile, despite my anxiety. “Nice to meet you.”
Eli turns his attention once more to Tyler. “What do you want?”
Tyler’s playful demeanour vanishes. “We have a job to do.”
Eli’s irritation is clear. “Today?”
Tyler crosses his arms and raises a brow.
Eli spins, moving towards me with lethal grace. He pulls me from my chair and gathers me into his arms. Nose to my hair, he takes a deep breath. “Sorry Angel, I have to go out.”
Panic spikes in me.
I don’t want to spend another day here alone.
“Can I come with you?” I blurt, pleading.
Eli pauses, taken aback. “I don't think—”
“How can I fall in love with you if I don’t know you?” I whisper, keeping my voice down so his friend doesn’t hear.
That has him pausing. The cogs in his brain whir.
He nods.
Victory.
He releases me, pushing me towards the hall and swatting my butt. “Go change into the leathers in the wardrobe.”
I don’t argue. I’m taking the win.
Eli
“What the fuck?” Tyler whispers the second Emily leaves the room. His hand connects with my chest in a sharp thwack.
“What?” I shrug, feigning confusion.
“You have a girlfriend?” His eyes go comically wide. “An actual, living, breathing girlfriend?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes.” He doesn’t need to know the truth. And anyway, is it a lie? Emily is mine. A fact I think she’s starting to accept.
“What’s the job?” I ask, trying to distract myself from thinking about Emily undressing upstairs right now.
“Karl wants us to tail Kevin James, see what we can dig up.”
For fuck’s sake.
“And you couldn’t do this alone?”
Tyler grins. “Maybe he wants us to do a little more than follow him.”
Tattooing might be my job, but this—this is my other role. I ran into Karl not long after escaping the gang I’d been involved with as a teen. He runs the shop I work in, and he saw something in me that made him bring me into his other business.
I suppose I just swapped one gang for another. But I don’t see it that way. Karl gave me a life worth living.
Emily’s footsteps sound on the stairs.
When she comes into view, I open my mouth to tell her I’ve changed my mind about her coming with us—but the words vanish when I see her.
Leather trousers mould to every curve. A cropped leather jacket with my surname embroidered on the back—because of course I did that.
The hope, the excitement, the light in her eyes stops the protest in my throat.
Guess she’s about to get a real taste of who I am.
Let’s just hope it doesn’t make her hate me.
It’s silent as the three of us file out of the house. Tyler heads to his bike. Emily shifts from foot to foot until I motion her over to mine.
“Come on, Angel. Time to go.”
She hesitates for only a moment before swinging a leg over the bike, settling against the backrest. Her front presses to my back, her warmth making me want to drag her off and take her right here. I’ll never stop wanting her.
Someday—soon—I am going to bury my cock into all her tight little holes and have her screaming my name.
But first, business.
The ride is quiet. At first, I try to get Emily talking, but her answers are short, distracted. I can’t read what’s going through her head.
It’s only as we near our destination that she finally speaks.
“What are we actually doing, Eli?”
I tense. She feels it. “A job.”
“What job?” Her voice is soft, curious.
“My boss wants us to follow someone.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a bad man.”
Her arms tighten around me. “Bad how?”
“His group,” I start, choosing my words, “they’re involved in organ sales.” I wince at how unnatural it sounds.
“Organs? As in… human organs?”
“Yes, Angel.”
I hear her audible swallow through the mic. “And you’re just going to follow him?”
“To start with,” I tell her. She waits. “We might have to rough him up a bit.”
Our bikes stop at the edge of a high street. We’re not in London anymore—the ride’s taken us to Guildford, Surrey.
Before Emily and I can say more, he steps out of the building. Kevin James.
He’s not expecting a tail, which means he doesn’t clock us. His eyes skim right over, seeing nothing unusual. And why would he? He and his crew don’t know we’ve been watching.
Emily’s harsh breaths fill my helmet. I give her thigh a reassuring squeeze before we take off again, following the car Kevin gets into.
We trail him to Twickenham—to the hospital, which we’ve realised is one of the places they’re stealing organs from. Some of them, anyway. This part’s the easy bit.
We leave the bikes a few roads away and follow on foot, keeping a good distance. Emily’s hand is locked tightly in mine. I’m not sure who’s holding tighter.
He comes back out less than twenty minutes later with a medical box. His eyes scan the area—he’s more alert now—but he still doesn’t notice us.
Then we’re on the move again.
This time, the stop is at a warehouse.
Bingo.
“What are we doing here?” Emily whispers, tucked out of sight beside me.
“This is where the real illegal shit goes down, Angel.”
She’s taken off her helmet, her chocolate-brown hair frizzy and wild around her head. She pins a glare on me.
“Since when do you care about illegal activities?”
Hmm. Fair point.
“Since these particular activities involve cutting organs out of perfectly healthy people.”
She gasps, eyes widening. “They don’t just take them from the hospital?”
Tyler shakes his head. “No. They cut the organs out while they’re still alive—not that they stay that way for long.”
Emily’s skin turns a little green beneath her usually warm complexion. “Why not go to the police?” she whispers, looking between us.
“Because police investigations take too long,” Tyler says flatly. “And they don’t deliver the right amount of justice.”
Her hand tightens into a death grip in mine.
I love that she sees me as comfort. That she needs me.
Kevin emerges from the warehouse, the medical box no longer in his slimy hands.
Now for the fun part.
Tyler texted Karl our location as soon as we arrived, and the low rumble of bike engines announces the rest of our crew. This wasn’t part of the original plan, but finding the warehouse’s location makes this an opportunity we can’t pass up.
I lift Emily, knowing we don’t have much time, and settle her back on my bike. I shove the helmet over her head. “Stay here. If anything happens—you drive straight home, okay?”
Her eyes go wide. “What about you?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be back soon. But if I’m not—” I level her with a look.
She understands without me needing to say more.
I shouldn’t have brought her. But it’s too late for regrets now.
Kevin hears the bikes rounding the corner. He freezes, then bolts for the warehouse.
Oh no you don’t, you bastard.
My boots slap against the pavement as I sprint after him, Tyler on my heels. Before Kevin can slip inside, I grab a fistful of his jacket and yank him back. We crash to the ground, him sprawled on top of me.
Tyler hauls him off and drives his fist into Kevin’s face.
Karl and the others slip past us, heading inside to deal with whatever’s in there. That’s not my role.
Kevin groans, then swings at me blindly. He lands a lucky hit before Tyler smashes his face into the ground, knocking him out cold.
I rub my temple. “Ow.”
“Don’t be a baby,” Tyler mocks, offering me a hand.
We look down at Kevin’s crumpled form. “I’ll get him to yours. Go take care of your girl.”
No need to tell me twice.
I spin around and jog back to where Emily’s waiting. She’s no longer on the bike—she’s pacing, gnawing at her nails.
I take her hand, threading my fingers through hers. “It’s all okay, Angel.”
The way her eyes soften as they scan me cracks something open inside. No one’s ever looked at me with that kind of tenderness. With… care.
I pull her against me, making her stumble slightly until her body is flush with mine.
Her breath catches.
My hands cup her cheeks. Her lips part.
I crush my mouth to hers.
She doesn’t push me away like I expect. She freezes, then kisses me back with hunger. Her mouth opens, letting me slide my tongue past her lips and taste her. She’s innocence and sin twisted together. Intoxicating.
Her fingers tug at my jacket lapels as if she wants me closer.
A shout cuts through the haze.
I pull back, loving the sight of her lips—plump and swollen. From me. I did that. That rosy flush on her cheeks is mine too.
I pick up her helmet and hand it to her.
“Let’s go, Angel. We’re not done.”