19. Lourdes
Lourdes
The soft click of a door lifts my head out of a deep sleep. Bleary-eyed, I peer into the hazy outline of the bedroom. I’ve not seen David at all today, but I’m seized by the cold realization that I might not be alone in the apartment.
“David?” I call out.
The lack of response and the footsteps toward the bedroom that don’t match David’s gait have me bolting straight up in bed.
Pulse thundering in my ears, I see the shape of a man detaching himself from the shadows near the doorway. He’s tall, too tall for David, broad-shouldered, and has a large skull.
“Don’t scream,” the man says, his voice low and rough.
But I do scream. A sharp and primal howl tears from my throat.
I lunge for the lamp on my nightstand, intending to throw it, but it snaps back from the short cord. I lift it again and intend to break it, use a ceramic shard as a weapon, but the man eats the distance between us with alarming speed.
He crawls across my bed, his hand clamping around my wrist before I can throw the damn thing.
“You’re coming with me.” He finds a tender spot on my wrist and squeezes.
“No!” I twist, kick, and claw with a desperation and strength that surprises me.
“Stop,” he growls, attempting to pin my arms.
Panic ignites a feral survival instinct inside me, and I rake my nails across his face.
“Damn it,” he swears under his breath and knocks me against the wall with the kind of blunt force used by someone who doesn’t know how to handle resistance gently.
“Get away from me,” I scream and drive my knee upward, but he grabs my leg and squeezes that, too.
The pain is a jolt of electricity, and my body seizes from the pressure.
I’m dragged across the bed, my nightshirt pulled upward, exposing my panties and even the tips of my breasts. Oh God, what if that’s what he wants?
He doesn’t take advantage of my nudity to crush himself on top of me, though. Just yanks me off the bed, pulling me so roughly that I crumble to the floor as pain explodes across my forehead. The world fractures into white light. I forget how to breathe for a moment.
The mammoth reaches into his overcoat and produces a rag. “Hold still,” he rasps.
Not today.
I scramble to my feet and rush for the bedroom door on the other side of the bed. The only element in my favor. Dizziness from the blow to my head tilts the room sideways, but I ignore it.
“Get back here.” The man catches me around the waist, hauling me off my feet. “I have orders to take you.”
Orders?
“I’m not going anywhere with you, you animal.” I bite the hand that attempts to cover my mouth.
But I continue to fight even as my strength evaporates and I’m dragged into the living room.
Another man is there. “What the hell?” he grumbles. “Put her out already.”
Mammoth’s large palm clamps the rag over my mouth and nose. Out of breath, I inhale a sharp chemical smell that burns my sinuses and floods my lungs.
With the last of my strength, I kick backwards, my naked heel connecting with my captor’s shin.
There’s a feral curse, and I’m jerked backward.
The living room spins, and my limbs grow sluggish.
Darkness creeps inward from the edges of my vision as the relentless hand over my mouth refuses to budge.
Then a pop cracks, splitting the air in two.
The pressure on my mouth disappears. The man holding me convulses before he drops, his weight slamming into the floor hard enough to send my coffee table flying.
Free of his hold and the rag, I stagger forward, catching myself against the wall as another pop pop follows.
The second man jerks backward as if yanked by an invisible wire and lands beside the first.
The ringing in my ears from the pain swallows everything else. When my sight steadies, I see it was…Ares.
He stands alone in the middle of my living room, gun still raised.
Smoke curls from the barrel of a silencer in a thin, lazy ribbon.
His expression is carved, cold, and furious.
His gaze is pinned to the bodies as if waiting for movement.
When there’s nothing but the sound of my raspy, uneven breaths, those gray-violet eyes find mine.
He lowers the gun and slides it into the back of his waistband. I can’t pull enough air into my lungs to speak.
“Lourdes,” he growls my name and cuts the distance between us in hurried strides.
When he reaches me, he doesn’t touch me immediately.
But I need it, and I weakly throw my arms around him. “Thank you.”
“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice low. “I’m here. Let me look at you.”
I reluctantly let go and hold my middle.
“You’re hurt,” he grinds out.
“Those men—” The words dissolve on my tongue. “They said—”
“Shhh, don’t worry,” he interrupts. “I know who they are.”
Behind him, the presence of others in the doorway becomes clear. His guards were here all along, but Ares shot my attackers himself.
Looking over his shoulder, he says, “Get in here and close the door.”
One by one, seven burly men crowd into my apartment.
“Pride and Envy, get rid of these bodies. Don’t bother with cleaners. I want their DNA traced if anyone shows up to investigate.”
The guards nod, and one of them gets on the phone.
Looking from them to me, Ares says, “You can’t stay here.”
“I have nowhere else to go.”
“You do now. Where is your bedroom?”
I step back. “This… This way.”
With his arm around my waist, he brings me to the bedroom. “Can you dress on your own?”
“I… I think so,” I say, though I’m still woozy.
“If you need help, I’m right here.” But he turns his back to give me privacy.
For a moment, I stand there dumbfounded. Confused. I don’t want to stay here, but I doubt Ares will just leave me on my own even if I fight him. With his back to me, I lift the nightshirt off my body with clumsy, sticky fingers.
I watch the rigid line of Ares’s shoulders as he stands facing the door while I struggle to pull on jeans and a sweater, skipping a bra. “I… You can turn around.”
He slowly rotates, eyes all over me and then the room in an assessing, operation-focused manner.
“Gluttony,” he calls out, and a man who I can’t distinguish from the others appears in the doorway to my bedroom.
“Boss?”
“Grab all her clothes. Take everything that’s hers from the bathroom, too. Makeup, toiletries, all of it.”
Within minutes, my life is tucked into one suitcase. I stand frozen, thinking about my dad’s journals and photo albums in dusty, crumbling boxes at the back of my closet.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere I can keep you safe.”
“Your penthouse? The Aurelian?”
“Further.”
Both places of his have guards. Layers of them. If that’s not enough…
“For how long?” I squeak in a shaky breath.
“However long it takes.” Ares steers me back through the apartment, down the stairs, and into his warm, idling Bentley.
I’ll come back for the boxes…
“Do you know where he is?” I clear my throat. “Where David is.”
“Hiding. He came to my club tonight with a woman,” Ares says, sounding furious. “He made a scene. I punish people who make scenes in my club.”
“Did you know those men would come for me?” I ask.
“David made the mistake of telling me you were marked for abduction. Something he orchestrated for financial gain. Because money is involved, he’ll continue to look for you, but he won’t find you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m going to find him first.”
We drive off, moving fast as I process his words. Ares plans to kill my husband. I should be horrified.
Yet, I feel relieved.
“Why are you doing this, Ares?” I voice the question screaming in my head. “All of it. The job, the money, killing men for me?”
Ares pins me with a stare. Streetlights shine on his face in seconds-long intervals. “Lourdes, I don’t want to add insult to your injuries, but you can’t be that obtuse.”
“You want something from David?” I ask, my voice pitching up.
“I most certainly want something from David.”
Silence lingers between us. “Please spit it out, Ares. As you might have noticed, I’m having a tough night.”
“I want you, Lourdes.” He stares at me, his confession rattling something inside me. “The way a man wants a woman. From the moment I saw you at Winterhall, I wanted you. Not as an assistant. As mine. Is that clear enough for you?”
I saw how he looked at me and suspected maybe there was an ulterior motive. I couldn’t let myself hope it was more. Plus, I couldn’t lead him on. I was married and planned to leave town once I had enough money.
“Why me?” I swallow painfully, ignoring the soothing heat of his skin and the sweet smell of his cologne. “You can have anyone.”
Ares Zervas doesn’t appear to be a man who wants to complicate his life with a woman from a messy marriage.
“I know I can. I want you.” He gently touches my face. “Do you want me the same way?”
I assume he means for some temporary purpose because all I’ve heard is that he doesn’t do relationships. I have a sister who needs me. If people want me dead or for something else, I have to wait this out before I attempt to get Sandrine out of Chicago.
“I do want you,” I say because it’s the truth.
His penetrating gaze shows no signs of weakness or loss of control of this situation.
Ares takes my hand gently and kisses it. “And now you can stop pretending you don’t get wet when you look at me. That you haven’t thought about my lips on every inch of your skin. My cock buried deep inside your pussy while you writhe beneath me and call out my name.”
The growl in his voice worries me that maybe he doesn’t mean temporary.
“I need to tell you, I’m not that easy,” I say with the last of my strength.
He barks a laugh, full and throaty. “I hope you don’t make it easy for me.”
That answer unsettles me more than anything else.
“Lean forward, please,” Ares says gently.
Too tired to argue, I do as he says. Something is wrapped around my shoulders. It’s my one and only jacket. I hadn’t taken it from the apartment. Ares did.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He leans in and presses his face into the curtain of my hair. Inhaling, he says, “You smell so good.”
“Ares…” I shiver at his deep voice, the sensualness of it.
If this is temporary, maybe I can survive whatever he wants from me. Let him get his fill of me, take care of David, and then I can get to be with Sandrine.
We’re still speeding, and that tells me the driver knows the destination.
“When will things be normal for me?” I look around. “When will this part be over?”
“When David is taken care of.” Ares opens his arms and pats his shoulder for me to rest my aching head. “Come here.”
I don’t move immediately. I study him the way I’ve learned to study powerful men.
With no other options, I slide over to his side of the car and lay my head against his chest.