Chapter 4
KILLIAN
Who could guess I was so easily swayed? I’ve kidnapped people for my father before. Shit, I’ve done worse to them. I beat them up, sent parts to their families, whatever my father wanted of me. Never have I been this swayed by something one of them said.
I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about working as a mechanic, fixing cars, marveling at the way they work.
At noon, I would sit outside for lunch and Fiona would meet me.
We’d eat together and talk, and then she’d open the bar.
I would work until five or six, always watching across the street to make sure she’s okay.
When the shop closed, I’d move to the bar.
Maybe go home, grab a quick shower, but I’d always go back to the bar.
There’s something mesmerizing about watching her work.
She’s so beautiful it hurts and in the bar, there’s always a small smile on her face.
It increases her beauty tenfold and makes it almost unbearable.
And because of me, I haven’t seen her truly smile ever since she got here.
Ever since I drugged her and brought her to this place.
I will never forget the fear in her eyes when she woke up here and saw me.
If only we had met in another life.
As soon as the sun rises, spilling through the windows and into my living room, I’m up.
Every night, since she got here, has been filled with expectation.
Will she try to run away? Will my father call me in the middle of the night and tell me to take her somewhere?
My stomach flips and then flips again as I make sure she’s asleep, then check the locks for the hundredth time.
I don’t know if I’m afraid of disappointing my father or letting her go and never seeing her again.
I get to my feet and approach her door. Pressing an ear to it, I check for sounds.
Nothing. Creaking it open, I peer inside.
Fiona breathes in, lying on her side on my bed.
The bedroom faces an alley, so almost nothing of sunlight spills through the windows.
My lips curl downward. Shit. Such a piece-of-shit place for a girl like this.
Leaving the door open an inch, I get back to the living room and exercise.
After several sets of push-ups and squats, I take a quick shower, then check on her again.
It’s almost eight when she stirs. Moving away from the door, I begin brewing some coffee.
Should have taken the time to buy something better for breakfast than PB I want to see her happy, even when I shouldn’t.
Fiona gets up, and I pretend to focus on the sandwiches when I’m putting every ounce of attention on the sound of her footsteps.
She goes for the door, stops, then opens it.
She must be surprised it isn’t locked. I tell myself there’s no reason to keep her locked, not when I’ve checked the front door, not when I know none of the neighbors would call the cops if they could hear her, which they can’t.
“Morning,” she says in a tentative voice.
“Morning.”
She walks closer. I’m done with the sandwiches, but I still don’t turn around. The sight of her wearing my shirt yesterday gave me the most painful erection of my life. I can’t see her in her mussed hair and maybe flushed cheeks. I don’t know what I would do.
Without another word, she enters the bathroom. She doesn’t close the door. Good. I give her privacy as she goes on with her business, but she opens and closes the faucet several times, so I’m forced to step closer.
“What are you doing?” I ask in my best empty voice.
“Brushing my teeth,” she replies, walking to the door.
Her mouth foams with toothpaste, and the image shoves me back into that fantasy of having her in my life, of living with her for real.
I have to shake myself back to reality. “Or the best I can do without a brush.” She smiles, holding a forefinger up.
Shit, I didn’t get her a toothbrush. But no, wait.
I’m her kidnapper. I’m not meant to buy her toiletries.
What the fuck is this girl doing to my head?
I turn back to the living room and check on my phone, doing my best to ignore her. Fiona goes back to her brushing, then I hear the shower running. I have to drop into more push-ups to work the erection away.
Fuck. I can’t get obsessed with this girl. She’s not staying. She wouldn’t ever want me. That’s not how normal couples get together.
Fiona finishes her shower and grabs a sandwich. She drops onto the couch, my shirt riding up her thighs when she crosses her legs. Her cheeks are flushed from the hot water, her nipples hard against the fabric. And there goes my cock again.
She arches an eyebrow at me. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say automatically, but I can’t drag my eyes away from her.
She stops chewing and swallows. “You say nothing, but you’re still staring.” I don’t reply to that. I can’t stop looking at her. She’s so fucking pretty. “Are you mad about yesterday? Because I meant every word.”
I cock my head in confusion. “What words?”
Fiona gets to her feet and abandons her half-eaten sandwich on the plate. She stalks back to me, shoulders squared, her chin tilted up. “That we should leave. That you can create a life for yourself out there. Without your father.”
Oh, those words. I look away, back to the window, even when there’s nothing to see past the dirty glass. “I tried. My father always comes back.”
Her hands flatten on my chest. The warmth of her touch sends a jolt across my body. What is she doing? Doesn’t she have any idea what I could do to her? How easy it would be to break her, to hurt her?
“You can change your name. No one will know where you come from,” she insists, gripping my shirt. “You can start over.”
I tower over her, creating a shadow across her beautiful features. How can she not fear me? How the hell can she still be fighting?
“It’s not that easy when you’re born in a mob family,” I hiss at her. “Your mother thought she had escaped, and look where that brought you.”
She pulls back for a second, but instead of diminishing, she burns brighter.
“I will not let my father dictate my choices. I will find a way out, no matter what. And I think you should, too.” She stops, thinks for a beat, then reaches up to touch my chest again.
“You have a good heart inside you, Killian. I know that.”
And that snaps something inside me. Gripping her shoulders, I manhandle her to the nearest wall, slamming her back to it. She lets out a whimper, closing her eyes for a moment. I shove my hand into her red hair, fisting it, pulling it back until her head tilts, her lips falling half-open.
“You don’t know me. I’ve done some dark shit, Fiona, and you have no idea about it. You don’t fucking know me.”
She narrows her eyes in defiance. “I don’t care. I said what I said. People can always start over. Correct their mistakes. Become better.”
“Not people like me,” I breathe out against her lips. Why are we standing this close?
Her eyes grow darker, gaze flashing to my lips.
“Even people like you,” she says, and she cranes her neck, even as she winces at my hold on her hair.
Her lips brush mine, and this time the jolt is straight to my cock.
Holy fuck, she electrifies me, sets fire to my blood.
Before I know what’s happening, I haul her up on the wall against me, hold her in place with my hips, and kiss the hell out of that pouty mouth.
Fiona throws her arms around me, kissing me back with fierce strokes of her tongue.
It’s not a dance, but a fight. We fight for dominance, my hands on her hips, slipping under her shirt to grip at her full thighs.
The soft flesh gives under my fierce hold, and I massage the skin, her hot core flush against my cock.
It would be so fucking easy to take her like this.
Spear her in a single motion, fill her with my member until she’s only mewls and moans.
Fiona arches off the wall, her breasts pressing into my chest. I devour her mouth as her fingers dig into my hair, pulling me even closer to her.
Our bodies become as one, her warmth seeping into me, her curves adjusting, filling every space.
Her taste on my tongue hypnotizes me, and I know from that moment on I’ll forever be addicted to her.
Shit. This one kiss might not be enough.
I grip her ass cheeks, adjusting her against me. My hard cock nudges against her warmth. Fiona moans, breaking the kiss and angling her neck. I trail kisses down her pulse to the collar of the shirt.
“You like this?” I ask against her skin, wet with my saliva. “Tell me what you like.”
She whimpers. “I like it when you touch me there,” she murmurs, her voice coming out fragile, hesitant. I pull back to look at her face. Her cheeks are bright red, her abused lips parted for me, but though she’s shy, her eyes burn with pure lust.
I circle my lips, teasing at her cunt. “Here?”
She nods, her eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah, right there.” And she’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen, beautiful and pure, and aching for my cock.
A growl rises from inside me, and I’m ready to take her to bed and ravish her. Maybe then she’ll learn I’m no knight in shining armor. I’m not the person she thinks I am. Slinging her legs around my waist, I turn to the bedroom.
My phone rings. We freeze. Fiona gapes up at me, her chest moving as she catches her breath.
“Don’t pick it up,” she pleads.
And I would do anything for her, but I can’t do this. I bring the phone up, see it’s my father calling, then I pick up the call.
“Yes?”
Fiona shoves me off, almost losing her balance as she hits the ground. I reach out with a hand, helping her up, but she pushes me away once more and runs to the bedroom. Pain crosses her face when she looks at me one last time before she slams the bedroom door in my face.
Shit. She didn’t want me to pick up the call, but I had to. Maybe this way she learns we’re not the same. We’re not supposed to be.
“Killian,” my father says, uncaring for the dilemma I’m going through. “We settled on a time and place to exchange the girl. Tomorrow morning. I’ll text you the details. Be ready, son.” And he cancels the call.
He hardly ever calls me son. It should have made me proud to hear him calling me like that, but it does nothing to my heart. No, after I met Fiona, I knew she would be the one person I would ever want in life… The one I can’t have.
And she doesn’t really want me. Not the real me. It’s for the best if I keep my distance, no matter how much it hurts.