Chapter Four
Severin
I wake up to a throbbing pain in my side, like someone twisting a knife at my ribs. A deep breath sends a piercing pain through my temple. Shit that hurts.
The air feels too warm. It smells like pine, smoke, and rubbing alcohol. Wait a minute… Where am I? I shift slightly, and agony shoots through my entire body.
Instinctively, I glide my hand down to my side, rubbing my fingers over where most of the pain is coming from. My fingers touch a large, dry bandage near my ribs. Someone has patched me up.
I open my eyes fully, blinking through the haze. The old, decaying cabin has disappeared. I stare at a fireplace in front of me, crackling with soft flames casting a light golden glow over the wood-paneled walls. The steady buzz of the fire fills the quiet unknown place.
My mind races. The last thing I remember is walking through the snow, killing Rizzo, and losing a lot of blood from the stab wound. Then a woman… That's it! She bursted through the door with a gun in her hand, shock shining in her eyes.
A low growl pulls me back. I turn my head carefully, my vision still blurry. A boxer sits a few feet away, his chest rising and falling, slowly and steadily. His eyes are locked on me, warning me to make a move.
“Easy,” I rasp, voice rough and cracked.
The dog remains still, watching me as if he’s waiting for a reason not to trust me.
Footsteps approach from behind me. A shadow flickers across the distant wall, casted by the fire’s flame. I shift slightly, muscles tensing under the blanket despite the agony ripping through my side. I reach for my gun immediately, but it's not there.
Shadows keep getting closer. I clench my fists, ready to start swinging at anyone who comes near. Just then, the woman from the cabin appears.
Her damp golden brown hair curls around her shoulder, and her eyes gleam a soft ocean blue. She wears red plaid flannel, Christmas pajamas with boxer dogs all over them, completely out of place in the world I come from.
“You’re awake,” she says, holding a bowl of something.
“Where’s my gun?” I rasp, my eyes locked on her.
She arches a brow, unfazed. “Outside. I’m not trusting you with a gun in my home.”
“You did a good job bandaging me,” I say.
Her chin lifts slightly. “You were bleeding out on my grandpa’s floor. I wasn’t about to let you die on my land. What if someone found your body?”
I almost laugh, but it hurts too much. “Lucky me.”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m not joking. This is serious and sure as hell nothing to laugh about. What kind of trouble have you brought?”
I meet her stare, forcing myself upright despite the pain tearing through me. “The kind you don’t want any part of.”
The dog growls again, warning me that he’s guarding his owner.
She doesn’t even flinch at what I said. She crosses her arms, remaining calm and collected.
I hold her gaze, ignoring the burning flare in my ribs. Somehow under my watchful eye, the woman who patched me up stands confidently.
“Well it's too late now,” she says. “You’re already in my house. What’s your name, stranger?”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Severin, and I can change that with one phone call.”
For the first time, I get a good glance at her. The firelight makes her pale skin look golden. She’s smaller than I expected, but strong to carry my two hundred and fifty pound body out of the cabin to her UTV. A faint bruise shines along her cheekbone.
“Did I hurt you? Do you have a name, angel?” I just remember my knees buckling and everything went black.
My chest tightens thinking about my hands hurting that beautiful face.
I’ve left bruises before on men that deserve it but not this innocent angel.
Christ if I didn't hurt her then who did.
I would hunt whoever down and choke the life of the bastard till his eyes were as black and empty as his soul.
She shakes her head. “No! I’m Maggie. That was from hitting the door frame pulling your body through the door and outside.”
My chest tightens, a warning I ignore. I shouldn’t feel anything, yet something flashes until I clear my throat, shoving it down. “Sorry that happened.”
She smiles and sits the bowl down on the end table.
I should be planning my next move, considering who might come looking for me.
Instead, my attention drifts to how the waves crash in her ocean blue eyes.
I could drown in them if she’d let me. I reach out to touch her delicate hand, feeling how silky, soft and warm she is. “Thank you for saving me.”
She yanks her hand away like I’m burning her. “You need to eat. I made you some chicken gumbo.”
I pull my own hand back, shocked at her reaction. I have never had a woman not crave my touch. My jaw jumps with frustration, maybe a little anger from being rejected but my dark life doesn't deserve an angel like her.
When she walks away, I can’t help but watch the way her hips sway with each step. The motion is slight, but enough to make it impossible not to watch. She has the perfect curves, tempting me with her body.
She doesn’t belong in my world. Too perfect.
Too kind. Yet… she pulled me out of hell and didn’t flinch when I aimed a gun at her.
What kind of woman does that? My chest tightens at that thought.
Who is this innocent woman that risks her life for mine?
A protective heat rises in my chest. If anyone dares to hurt her I will stop at nothing to end them and she is safe.
I reach for my bandaged side, the dull ache reminding me why I came here. Tonight, I will rest, but tomorrow…tomorrow I’ll leave this place. The less time I spend around her, the safer she’ll be.
She saved my life, and I’m grateful to her for that. The kindness she has shown for me even though I am a dangerous stranger. I will return the favor by protecting her from my father’s hit. He never lets a witness walk away.