Chapter Five
Carver sat on the bed and gazed at Lucy, trying to gauge her thoughts. She took a deep breath, evenly meeting his gaze.
“Are you going to kill me now?” she asked. There was a certain calmness in her that he found utterly intriguing.
“No,” he simply answered. Carver doubted he could ever bring himself to do such a thing. “Not if you keep to yourself what just happened here. If you tell anyone, I’ll know.”
She bit her lower lip, her eyes wavering for a moment.
“My friend Cindy warned me about you, about the Arrow brothers…” she trailed off.
Carver took her hands in his, then kissed each of her fingers gently. That brought a small smile to her face, but he could tell she was far from convinced.
“That man … what did he do?” she asked him. “You said he was dangerous.”
“He’s a thief and a murderer,” Carver said. “Believe me, if you knew all his deeds, you would never have freed him.”
“It was the right thing to do,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, leaning in to kiss her, softly this time.
Knowing the kind of person Lucy was, he understood she believed she was doing the right thing. She was too good for the likes of him, he knew that from the first time he chased those robbers out of her apartment. But she was too entangled in his affairs for him to simply cut her off.
Their lips met in a tender kiss, and he felt her hesitation melt away. She curled her fingers around his, and he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. She responded to him with equal passion.
Carver pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers. “I need you to trust me, Lucy,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I need you to believe that I’ll keep you safe.”
She searched his eyes, her own filled with a mix of doubt and longing. “I want to trust you, Carver. But I don’t know if I can,” she admitted.
“I understand,” he said, his thumb brushing her cheek. “But know this—I will do everything in my power to protect you. No matter what.”
Her breath hitched, and she leaned into his touch. “I don’t want to be afraid of you,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to be,” he assured her, kissing her again. He felt her relax into him, her hands moving to his shoulders, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.
Carver knew he had to tread carefully. Lucy was too good, too pure for his world, but he couldn’t let her go, not now. He was in too deep, and so was she. They were bound together now.
As their kiss deepened, Carver came to a decision. Lucy belonged to him now and he would keep her safe, no matter what it took.
For the first time in a long while, he had something worth fighting for, something worth risking everything for. And he wouldn’t let anything, or anyone, take that away from him.
****
Carver watched Lucy sleep, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. She lay there, so peaceful and vulnerable, completely unaware of the danger she had willingly stepped into.
He couldn ’ t believe she had managed to fall asleep in the bed of a stranger, someone who had proven himself to be anything but a good man. Her soft snores filled the room, a serene contrast to the chaos in his mind.
After everything that had happened, he thought she ’ d wake up, common sense would return, and she ’ d start running. But she hadn ’ t. Instead, she trusted him. The thought both comforted and terrified him. How could she be so naive? So trusting?
His eyes traced the contours of her face, memorizing every detail. He didn’t want to leave her side, but he had to own up to his mistake. And it was his mistake. He had left his apartment door open. True, Lucy shouldn ’ t have entered or freed Emmet, but the responsibility ultimately fell on him.
Carver let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. He pulled out his phone and texted Devlin, explaining the situation briefly. The response was immediate: Meet me at the house.
He cast a lingering look at Lucy. She stirred slightly but didn ’ t wake. He wished he could stay, but duty called. First, Carver had to make sure she wouldn ’ t run.
With that ugly task done, he made sure this time to lock the door behind him. After all, it felt like she was under his spell at that moment, but eventually, Snow White had to wake up. With a heavy heart, he left his apartment and got in his car.
Carver drove through the dimly lit streets, the cold night air sharp against his skin. His thoughts churned, bouncing between the night ’ s events and the woman he had left behind.
The streets were quiet, yet an unsettling unease gnawed at Carver ’ s insides. Devlin had a reputation that instilled fear in everyone within their organization. Ruthless and unyielding, Devlin could make the toughest men tremble with a single glare. But Carver wasn ’ t afraid of him. Not really.
They had survived too much together under their father ’ s brutality for Devlin to faze him. The scars from their past bound them. They promised each other that no matter how much shit the world threw at them, they ’ d always have each other’s back.
What Carver truly feared was losing himself. He thought it would be fine, losing to the darkness within him and slowly cutting away the good parts of him, but Lucy…
Carver was crazy about her, but he wasn ’ t about to change who he was or what he did. Not for anyone. The thought of Lucy believing him to be a monster gnawed at him, yet he couldn ’ t deny the truth.
He was a monster, shaped by violence and necessity. But in Lucy’s presence, he felt a flicker of something he hadn ’ t felt in years—hope. A dangerous, precarious hope that he could be more than the sum of his sins.
As he reached the house where they conducted their main operations and where Devlin waited, Carver mentally prepared himself for a confrontation. The large, foreboding structure loomed ahead, its dark windows like eyes watching his approach.
He took a deep breath. One thing for certain: he wasn’t going to let go of Lucy without a fight.
Devlin was waiting inside, his face a mask of controlled fury.
“Carver,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “What the hell happened?”
Carver met his brother ’ s gaze, unflinching.
“I made a mistake,” he admitted. “I left the door open. Lucy found Emmet and freed him.”
Devlin ’ s eyes darkened with anger as Carver told his brother everything.
“And you let her live? Just because you wanted to fuck her?” Devlin demanded.
Carver’s hand twitched at his side, but he kept his voice steady. “She ’ s different, Devlin. I can’t explain it, but I know she won ’ t betray us,” he said.
“You ’ re playing a dangerous game,” Devlin warned. “Sentimentality has no place in our world.”
“I know,” Carver replied, his jaw tightening. “But she ’ s mine now. She won ’ t rat me out and I won ’ t let her get hurt.”
Devlin studied him for a long moment before nodding curtly. “ Fine. Deal with Emmet, but keep her in line, Carver. One mistake is enough,” Devlin warned, his tone hard to argue with.
Anger flickered inside Carver, a hot, searing flame. Devlin called the shots for a reason, but at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around his brother ’ s throat and squeeze. He managed a grunt of acknowledgment, swallowing his retort, and turned to leave.
Carver made his way through the dimly lit halls of the house, still furious. Just as he reached the foyer, a voice called out from the den.
“ Hey, Carver! Come join us for a game!” came Galen ’ s cheerful voice.
Carver glanced over and saw his middle brother surrounded by a group of men, a deck of cards in hand. Normally, he would have given in, played a game or two with Galen and his guys before excusing himself, but he wasn’t in the mood tonight.
“ Another time,” Carver said curtly.
Galen raised an eyebrow but didn ’ t press further. “ All right, but don ’ t stay away too long,” Galen said.
Carver nodded and exited the house, the cool night air hitting him like a slap. He got into his car, the familiar smell of leather and metal grounding him as he started the engine.
As he made his way back to his apartment, Carver ’ s mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. The fear of losing Lucy, of losing himself, weighed heavily on him. He knew their world had a way of destroying everything good.
When he finally pulled up in front of his building, he realized he needed to see Lucy, to make sure she was still there, and to figure out his next move.
Carver walked up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. He unlocked his door, half-expecting to find her gone, but there she was, still asleep in his bed. Relief washed over him but it was momentary. Something told her things were about to get really ugly.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep, her breathing soft and even. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, and it struck him how much he had to lose. He couldn ’ t afford any more mistakes. One wrong move, and everything could come crashing down.
Emmet wouldn ’ t stay down for long. Devlin would undoubtedly dispatch his men, scouring the city for any trace of Emmet’s whereabouts. That’s exactly what a rat would do—scuttle into the shadows, seeking refuge in the anonymity of a new city or town.
Carver couldn’t shake the image of Emmet’s face from his mind, the mix of fear and fury etched into his features. Some rats had a bite, he recalled with a cold practicality.
He hadn ’ t lied to Lucy—Emmet was dangerous. Not because of his strength or cunning, but because a cornered and desperate man was unpredictable.
One question remained. Would Emmet flee or would he linger, nursing his wounds and plotting his revenge, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back at Carver ?