Chapter 31 Take Me To Him
Chapter thirty-one
Take Me To Him
Sophia
By the time I’m sitting in the back of the Avery’s black SUV with its blacked-out, double-glazed windows, a relaxed lull has settled over me thanks to the wine I shared with Evie and Stella over dinner.
I filled them in on everything that happened with Arty, and the sheer relief I felt when Marco appeared when he did.
I also confessed to them the fear I felt crawling up my throat seeing the glazed, hungry look in Arty’s eyes when he had me pinned to that wall.
Almost like he was on something. What if Marco hadn’t shown up?
What if Arty didn’t take no for answer? And, more pertinently, how am I going to navigate continuing to work with him on the Law Gala?
I can’t back out. I know how important it is to my dad, but more than that, I want to forge a name for myself because of the work I do and not because it’s continually mentioned in gossip fodder.
I know now with certainty that there must be some truth to the stories I’ve heard about Arty, but I also know enough about how this world works that he’s got the power and connections to keep it all under wraps.
He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and unfortunately, we still live in a time where women will be painted with a scarlet letter before a powerful man is brought into reproach for predatory behavior.
A deep voice rumbles in the quiet cab, silencing the internal chatter currently giving me sensory overload.
“Ms. Princi. Just checking your belt is on and you’re ready to go home now?”
Marco texted a few hours ago to check how I was feeling and let me know that Avery would take me home from Evie’s.
I texted back to get more information about how he was and what happened with Arty, but all he said was that he’s home and there’s nothing to worry about.
He’s handled it. I hope he hasn’t done anything that will blow back on him.
I look down at the last message he sent me for the umpteenth time.
Marco:
I’ll never let anyone hurt you. Get home safe and sleep well, Kitten.
He didn’t tell me to go to him. He didn’t come and find me at Evie’s. Clearly he’s still respecting the boundaries I put in place, but all I want him to do now is smash every wall I’ve erected to smithereens.
The mystery of where I had seen the Clark Kent lookalike solved itself when Marco instructed the man he called Avery to escort me to Evie’s.
To be fair, he was totally inconspicuous, but it’s hard not to appreciate a man with chiseled good looks and a strong body that fills out his clothes to perfection.
Add in the black-rimmed glasses. Pure kryptonite.
Objectively speaking, of course. The only man my panties are wet for is Marco Marrone.
Especially seeing a side of him tonight I don’t think I’ve ever fully seen.
Dangerous and unyielding. An eerie calmness about him that belied the blinding rage I could sense was simmering beneath his veins.
When he stepped into the hallway, his longish hair mussed, black, long sleeved top molded to his strong chest and shoulders, highlighting the strength in his safe arms, assessing green eyes narrowed, he looked lethal.
Like he was ready to go to war and kill if he had to.
All I could repeat like a mantra was, “he came; he came.” Of course he did.
Like he said a few weeks ago, he’s literally been saving my ass my entire life—from falling out of trees when my little legs were too short to scale the branches he and my brothers cleared with ease, from drowning when I got tired treading water and darting after them all while playing Marco Polo.
And tonight, he showed up when I needed him.
Even after I pushed him away and erected a wall.
He’s shown me time and again he’s my safety net.
The one person I can count on to catch me.
Protect me. Maybe, just maybe, love me like he’s alluded to more than once.
Turning to look at me through the seats, Avery presses with concern.
“Ms. Princi, are you okay?”
“Sophia. Call me Sophia.”
Avery just nods. Strong and silent. I can see why he’s Marco’s right-hand man.
“It was you at my coffee shop, and my gym, and seated at the booth near us tonight.” It’s not a question. I forgo any preamble and address the facts.
“Yes, it was,” he confirms matter-of-factly. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’d call you many things, but scary is probably not one of them. Unforgettable, yes,” I say with a warm laugh. The faintest hint of smile tips his lips.
“Why have you been following me?”
“Marco wanted to make sure you were safe while also not overstepping your boundaries,” he says, holding eye contact, a look passing between us that tells me Marco may have shared a little with him about what’s led us to this point.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the headrest. My thoughts are swirling, my heart is thudding in my chest. It’s not from fear now.
It’s adrenaline and the torrent of every single emotion I’ve ever felt when it comes to Marco surging through me.
Despite my best efforts to err of the side of caution, the visceral urge to jump and enjoy the thrill of free falling for him, with him, and into him is becoming too hard to ignore.
His words ring in my ears. You want me to prove how I feel for you?
That I listen when you talk? I’m all the fucking way in.
I take a moment longer to watch the snow falling around me slowly and lazily. A direct contrast to the quickening of my pulse and erratic thrashing of my heart. I don’t need a moment longer. I know what I need. Who I need.
“Avery, take me to him.”