Chapter Two #2
Something in my chest tightens. Part of me leaps at the prospect of keeping her.
The first image that floats through my mind is a particularly dirty one; Mira, collared and tied to my bed, waiting to take my cock like a good girl.
Sobbing through an orgasm. Taking everything I’m fucking aching to give her.
Mira, in my bed for longer than a week.
The prospect is ludicrous. I don’t know her beyond some surface level facts I’ve gathered. I shouldn’t want to know her, yet I do. The monster within me reaches for her, and that fucker wants her for keeps.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean, Sergei noticed you sounded protective of her. If you want to keep her, that’ll be the easiest route to ensure her loyalty.
If you don’t, find her pressure points and be ready to press hard on them.
He’ll want to know your choice at the end of the week.
” He shakes his head. “Fucking ridiculous. I should’ve shot her when—”
“Do not. Finish. That fucking sentence,” I warn. “You only get so many passes for being unfeeling. You need to have a code.”
“My code is no loose ends. And that right there,” he points at me, “is why Sergei asked about you wanting to keep her. Figure it out. One way or the other, she’s gotta stay silent.”
Seamus chooses that moment to appear in the distance. He strolls up to us, his steps silent, a black duffle bag swung over his shoulder. He looks between me and Connor with arctic-blue eyes, then frowns.
“You gents care to let me in on what’s going on?” he questions smoothly.
His British accent is suave as hell, something that drops panties and brings blushes to masses of girls wherever he goes.
He looks and speaks like an aristocrat, but Seamus Archibald the Third is from a line of title-only nobility.
His father has a gambling problem and is shirked by the upper class; his mother refuses to show her face in society out of shame.
Seamus fled to the states for college to get away from them and found out that he’s pretty handy with a rifle shortly thereafter.
“Yeah,” I say. “We’re going to have a guest for a bit.”
I give Seamus the breakdown. He proves to be far more accepting of the situation than Connor. That's Seamus, though; he’s content to go with the flow. Happy to seem like he’s there to help, while in reality he’s thinking about a dozen ways to separate your head from your body.
“Got it,” he says amiably. “I’ll be nice.” He looks over to Connor, who’s frowning.
“I’ll stay out of it unless you fuck up,” Connor concedes.
Which means that I’ll have the opportunity I’ve been searching for to get close to little Mira, even though it’s under the sort of circumstances that might have her despising me forever.
If she despises me, I’ll need to press on her pressure points.
I’d prefer not to have to do that, so I suppose I’ll now be undertaking the unenviable task of somehow getting her to like me.
After I chased her down like an animal, pinned her to the forest ground, and hurt her. Lovely.
“You finish up?” I ask Seamus.
He nods. “Yup. All’s done. Shall we see to our new guest?”
“Connor, head down to the car,” I tell him. “You’ve already scared her. That won’t help matters.” With a grunt, Connor takes the duffle bag from Seamus, turns, and stalks off. Mira watches him go with wide eyes.
“Take it easy,” I tell Seamus. “This’ll be sensitive.”
I affect a casual posture and expression as I stalk back over to Mira, trying to present myself as unthreatening. She watches me closely, as if I’m a lion preparing to pounce.
“Hallo, love,” Seamus greets, stopping beside me. “You look positively dreadful. What happened to your shirt? It looks like a piece of it was torn off by a wild animal.”
“Hello, Brit. My shirt was torn by a wild animal. Long story.” She looks back at me. “Am I going to be staying here or going home alive?”
Seamus lets out a chuckle, while I shake my head. “Neither. Nobody’s going to hurt you, but we would like to keep you around for a bit. You heard incriminating things, and it’s important to be sure that you won’t tell anyone about tonight.”
“I won’t,” she promises. “I’m exceptionally good at keeping things to myself.”
There’s a weight behind her words that makes my brows furrow. Almost as if she already has experience keeping her mouth shut. Interesting.
“Then you won’t be our guest for long,” I say. “Just for a week or so.”
“I have absolutely no reason to trust what you’re saying,” she observes. “How do I know you won’t hurt or kill me if I upset you?”
Excellent question, spoken in a surprisingly calm tone.
“You’ll be under my protection. Nobody will hurt you.
You’ll see that for yourself.” I crouch down in front of her, my eyes drawn to a small tear in her shirt that kind of looks like teeth marks.
There’s a bit of blood right near her collar bone.
“What happened there?” I tip my chin at the spot.
She glances down. “One of the wolf pups got nippy. The alpha put him in his place. They’re still learning at that age.”
At first, I thought her wolf story was bullshit; then I read her texts, and now I see the evidence before me. “You really come out here to spend time with wolves?”
She nods. “Yeah. The pack kind of adopted me. I helped the mom of the little ones through a tough delivery, and they decided to keep me after that. I visit them a lot.”
“You want to become a vet?”
“That’s the goal.”
I share a quizzical look with Seamus. There’s something befuddling about her; she obviously thinks she’s facing down death, yet she’s not choosing her words carefully or stumbling. It sounds like we’re acquaintances getting to know each other, not like I’m someone who ran her down like an animal.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s get going.”
“Do I have to go with you?”
“Yes.” I give her a hard look that warns her not to fight or try to run. I don’t think she will, but then, I don’t really know her.
“Can I stand up, or will you kill me for that?”
Seamus releases a chuckle. A half smile steals across my lips. This one is really something. “You can get up.”
I watch her push to her feet, rising to her impressively short height. She can’t be very far above five feet; practically a dwarf compared to my 6’4.
“One of your arms is hanging considerably lower than the other,” Seamus comments. “You alright, love?”
She glances down at her right arm. “I think it’s dislocated. I was gonna have one of my roommates help force it back in place if I made it home tonight.”
I realize that her arm really is dangling low and limp, but Connor was right when he said that dislocations are an excellent interrogation tactic.
They’re painful as fuck; I had one over the summer, and it robbed me of my breath.
Mira’s just staring at her arm with mild irritation.
I start to wonder if she’s in shock; the girl is taking all of this far too well.
No tears, no begging. A little bit of panic earlier, but now just calm questions and answers, like she doesn’t give a shit what’ll happen to her.
She doesn’t seem to be in shock, though. She’s alert and keenly focused. A little distant, but not in the hazy, detached state I’ve seen others retreat to when genuinely overcome by shock. Maybe it’s something else?
“Did you hit your head when I took you down?” I ask her.
She raises her eyebrows, giving me a long look. “Oh, no, I’m not in shock. I told you, I’ve been in life-or-death situations before. Like everything, I guess it’s just something a person gets used to.”
I tilt my head to the side. How did she know where my line of questioning was heading? Who the fuck is this girl? Who would just say that so… freely?
“Can you walk, love?” Seamus asks her, tipping her a wide smile.
She narrows her eyes for a second as she gazes at him. “Jesus, you’re the really dangerous one here, aren’t you?”
Seamus pauses, his suave smile dropping for an instant, showcasing a flicker of the killer beneath. “What?”
“Yeah, I can walk. It’s my shoulder that’s fucked, not my feet.
My arm really does hurt, though. Can I maybe stop by my dorms tomorrow morning before class?
” her eyebrows furrow. “Actually… can I even go to class? I’ve never been a captive before, so this is kind of new to me.
If I reiterate that there is absolutely no way I’ll tell anyone anything that went down tonight, can I go home? ”
I smile at her. She’s a little dizzy, but it’s in an endearing way. “No.”
She lets out a long breath. “Yeah, I kind of figured you’d say that. I’m assuming that if I try to run off, you’ll send him after me,” she says, tipping her chin at Seamus.
“Why would you think that?” I ask.
“Because he’s the most dangerous.”
Seamus slowly turns to look at me, no longer smiling. “You’ve vetted her? She seems to know an awful fuckin’ lot, mate.”
She does, indeed. My suspicion is starting to grow.
“I wasn’t sent here by anyone, I promise. I’m literally just here to see my pack. Wrong place, wrong time.”
Seamus takes a step forward, folding thick forearms over his broad chest. “Then what makes you think I’m the most dangerous one?”
She lifts her left shoulder. “I don’t know. A feeling, I guess. I get them a lot. They usually aren’t wrong.”
“That’s not gonna do it, love,” Seamus says, taking another step. “What do you mean, a feeling?”
“You really want the whole breakdown of how my thoughts get from point A to point B?” she asks doubtfully. “It’ll take a while. I usually have a hard time keeping track of them.”
“Mira,” I say lowly. “If you were sent by someone, now’s the time to admit it. I can protect you, but only if you tell the truth.”
“Jesus, I wasn’t sent by anyone, okay?” She waves at Seamus.
“It’s the smile, the demeanor, the eyes.
His senses are better honed than yours or Flashlight Guy’s—he walks like a predator.
He’s obviously trained in some form of combat.
He also has this easygoing air, and he can give a fake smile where even his eyes don’t betray him, but his energy stays the same.
Stalking, watching, lurking. Not in a pervert way; in a fucking wolf way.
That’s how I know he’s the most dangerous.
Flashlight Dude wears his danger on his sleeve, not masking it.
He doesn’t have a moral compass. I don’t think he has feelings.
You,” she nods to me, “have a moral compass that you can reprogram, and you have feelings that you know how to ignore. Not push down like most people do, but genuinely disregard. That makes you more dangerous than Flashlight Dude, but not as dangerous as the Brit.” She looks to the sky, letting out a long breath.
“Are we done now? We good? Have I convinced you I wasn’t sent by anyone?
If you’re going to kill me, please get it over with now. Don’t string me along.”
My lips part as I stare at her. She says she doesn’t remember me, and I believe her.
Yet, she managed to nail me within thirty seconds.
She managed to get Seamus in thirty seconds.
He takes a step back from her, retreating from a girl for possibly the first time in his life.
He gazes at her with open shock, as do I.
“Oh shit, I just got myself killed, didn’t I?” she asks. “I didn’t mean any of it; I was totally bullshitting and pulling all of that out of my ass. The brit is the easy going, non-dangerous one—in fact, none of you are dangerous.” She grimaces as she looks down at her arm. “Can I go home now?”
I try to unfuck my brain long enough to say, “No.”
She nods sagely. “Yeah, okay. Can I have my phone back?” she nods at the backpack. “And my backpack?”
My eyebrows furrow. “Why?”
“I need music. Phone for my playlist, backpack for my headphones. Both of you are a lot to handle, like bundles of chaos and violence. It’s overwhelming. I’m kind of starting to want you to kill me.”
Seamus takes a step forward, nudging my shoulder with his. “I gathered you called dibs on her. What would it take to give me a go? This one’s fucking fascinating.”
“More than you have,” I growl.
Meanwhile, Mira gives a slightly hysterical sounding cackle.
“You can’t afford me, Brit.” He opens his mouth to dispute; she cuts him off.
“I don’t mean your wallet—you’ve got the look of wealth.
I mean your sanity. I can barely hold my own sanity most of the time.
None of you could handle my brand of crazy.
” Her throat clicks with a swallow. “So… about my phone?”
My eyes briefly flutter shut as I shake my head.
“No phone.” I clear my throat, inhale a deep breath, and relax.
Try to ignore how attractive and confounding Mira is.
“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. First thing, you need your shoulder fixed.
I don’t want you in pain longer than necessary; the sooner it’s back in place, the sooner it can heal. ”
“I can handle the pain,” she assures me. “I would like use of my arm, though.”
I incline my head. “Right.” As much as I detest the idea of allowing Seamus to touch her, especially now that he’s expressed interest in her, I don’t know how to put a shoulder back in place. He does. “Seamus?”
He nods, also composing himself. “Yeah, I’ll get it done. Come here, love, we’ll get you all fixed up.” He doesn’t bother giving her the charming smile that often makes the sum total of the female population swoon. He gazes at Mira with a mixture of wariness and vibrant intrigue.
“You gonna kill me for getting your number?” she asks him.
Her question pulls a smile from him. “Nah, love. You’re too pretty, too innocent to kill. Come on, we’ll get it over with quick.”
“Then, we’ll go back to our place,” I say, staring at Mira. “And figure out next steps.”