Chapter Fifteen
Remi
I can’t move. My body feels like liquid, every nerve still buzzing from what he just did to me. My chest rises and falls too fast, my throat raw from screaming his name, and all I can do is lie in the wreckage of the bed, trembling.
Shadow eases out of me carefully, pressing a kiss to my temple before slipping away just long enough to toss the condom and grab a damp cloth.
The mattress dips as he returns, and I shiver when he runs the warm cloth gently over my skin, cleaning me with care that doesn’t match the brutal way he just took me.
“Easy, darlin’,” he murmurs when I flinch. “I’ve got you.”
I manage a weak laugh, tilting my head towards him. “You nearly broke me.”
His mouth curves in that dark, dangerous smirk, but his eyes soften. “Yeah, but you handled me. We were meant to be.”
When he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and pulls the covers over us, sliding in next to me. The second his arms come around me, hauling me against his chest, something inside me eases. His skin is hot, damp with sweat, his heartbeat a heavy drum under my ear.
I curl into him, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion tugs at me. He kisses the top of my head as his hand strokes slow, steady lines down my back.
“You’re not going anywhere, Rem,” he mutters, voice rough but low, like a promise meant only for me. “Not after tonight.”
A warmth spreads through me, deeper than the aftershocks, deeper than the ache in my body. Safe. Wanted. Claimed.
“Good,” I whisper, barely audible as I fight sleep, “because I don’t want to.”
We lie tangled together in silence, the afterglow humming between us, warm and heavy. For a while, I just breathe him in, my cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heart.
But curiosity itches at me, refusing to be ignored. I tip my head back to catch his eyes. “So, what do you actually do?” I ask, my voice quiet but edged with teasing. “For a living, I mean. You throw money around like it’s going out of fashion, but I’ve yet to see you work a single day.”
He smirks, eyes half-lidded as he runs his fingers lazily over my breast, circling my nipple until it puckers.
“Work?” he echoes, like it’s a foreign word. “Darlin’, I’ve been working since I was old enough to throw a punch. Just not the nine-to-five kind you’re thinking of.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.” His grin turns wicked, but his eyes stay sharp. “Let’s just say money’s never been my problem. And if you stick around long enough, you’ll figure out exactly why.”
My stomach twists, equal parts nerves and intrigue. He makes it sound like a warning and a dare all at once.
I chew my lip, the old knot of fear tightening in my stomach. Money’s never been my problem. It’s exactly the kind of thing my stepfather used to say before handing me a bag of pills and telling me to start pulling my weight.
I shift against Shadow’s chest, cautious but determined.
“I need to know something,” I murmur. “You keep telling me I’m yours, but I can’t get into that life.
Drugs. Prostitution. Any of it. If that’s what you mean when you say money isn’t a problem,” my voice cracks, but I force the words out, “then I can’t stay. ”
His smirk fades, replaced by something harder. He tilts my chin up, his eyes locked on mine. “Remi, listen to me. I’ll never put you in that world. Never. That shit? It’ll never touch you again.”
I search his face, needing to believe him. He must see it because his hand cups the back of my head, dragging me closer.
“You’re mine,” he growls quietly, “but I’m not your stepfather. There will never be a time when I ask you for anything like that, especially money. I provide. I take care of you. End of.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “You never have to worry about all that again.”
His words should settle me. They should be enough. For the first time in years, someone’s telling me I don’t have to carry the weight. That I’m safe.
But I can’t silence the voice in the back of my head. I’ve got to find twenty grand to cover Mum’s debt or risk Shadow finding out about it all. And I can’t tell him, not when everything feels so good. I can’t have my past dragging my future down, or he might regret ever pulling me into his life.
I lay my head back against his chest and allow my eyes to drift closed. I’ll find the money, one way or another.
I wake to the faint buzz of my mobile. Blinking against the dim light, I glance at Shadow sprawled on his back, fast asleep, one arm flung over his chest, his breathing deep and even.
Careful not to wake him, I slip from the bed and drop to my knees, crawling across the floor to where my coat lays discarded. My fingers fumble through the pockets until I find the phone. My stomach twists as the screen glares up at me.
Unknown number.
I flick a glance back at Shadow, who is still motionless, before grabbing his T-shirt and slipping silently into the empty hallway. I pull the shirt over my head and stab at the answer button.
“What?” My voice is rough, defensive.
“I’ve been thinking,” comes the drawl on the other end. “We should meet again.”
My pulse spikes. “I don’t have your money yet.”
“That’s not what I asked, Remika.”
“I’m not meeting you,” I hiss, pacing towards the far wall. “I’ll call when I have your money.”
“How are the Chaos Demons?” His tone is light, almost gleeful, and I freeze. A lump forms thick in my throat. “Oh, you think I didn’t do my research?” he taunts. “Because you called me, what was it, a low-rent gangster?” He chuckles, the sound slithering under my skin. “They have plenty of funds.”
“I don’t have access to anything,” I whisper, desperation leaking through. “I just work the bar.”
“And their Enforcer apparently,” he counters smoothly. “Did you enjoy your shopping trip?”
My blood runs cold. “You’re following me?”
“I like to keep an eye on potential assets.”
“Well, if you know the Demons,” I snap, trying to sound braver than I feel, “then you’ll know not to mess with anyone they associate with.”
There’s a pause, then a low chuckle rumbles down the line. Not the nervous kind but amused. “Oh, Remika, you think hiding behind their name makes you untouchable?” His voice drops. “I’m not afraid of biker clubs. Men like them, men like him, they bleed the same as anyone else.”
My grip tightens on the phone, palms clammy. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. He’ll rip you apart for coming after me.”
“I know enough,” he purrs. “I know your mother owed me twenty grand. I know you’ve got nothing to pay it with. And I know if the Demons catch wind of this, they’ll realise you’re a liability, a debt hanging over their precious Enforcer.”
His words slice clean through my chest, leaving me breathless.
“You leave him out of this,” I whisper fiercely, glancing towards the bedroom door.
“Then pay me,” he says simply. “Twenty thousand. Cash. Until then, Remika, consider me your shadow. Always watching. Always waiting.”
The call ends, but the words echo in my head. Always watching. Always waiting. My hands shake so bad, I nearly drop the phone. There’s no way I can crawl back into bed beside Shadow, not with this panic clawing at my chest.
I pull his shirt tighter around me and rush downstairs, needing air, needing space.
The kitchen lights still on. Sasha leans against the counter, scrolling her phone, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. Her eyes lift, narrowing the second they land on me in Shadow’s shirt.
“Well, well,” she says coolly, her gaze sweeping me head-to-toe. “Thought I heard footsteps. Looks like our Enforcer’s brought another stray pet home.”
I freeze, swallowing hard. “I’m not in the mood, Sasha.”
She smirks, pushing off the counter. “Oh, don’t get pissy. I’m just being honest. You won’t be around long, sweetheart. Shadow gets off on helping the broken ones. Makes him feel better about all the shit he does.”
My stomach twists, but I shake my head, trying to walk past her. “I don’t care what you think.”
“Don’t you?” she calls after me, her voice singsong.
“Because I can list them all, you know. The girls who thought they were different. One lasted a month. Another? Two weeks. He took care of them, gave them a warm bed, made them feel special. Did all the things he thinks they wanted—shopping, dinner, good sex.”
I spin back to her, my blood boiling. The man on the phone, the debt, my mother, my stepfather, it all collides inside me. And now this bitch, with her perfect hair and smug face, is rubbing it in that I don’t know him, not really. Not the way she does.
“You think you know him better than me?” My voice cracks, anger burning my throat. “You don’t know shit.”
She laughs, cruel and sharp. “Sweetheart, I’ve known him longer than you’ve been breathing. He’ll get bored. He always does.” She pushes off the counter. “And when he does, I’ll be here waiting like I always am.”
“Then how pathetic are you?” I sneer. “Waiting around for scraps of his attention.”
Her smirk falters briefly then her expression hardens. “He loves me. Ask him. We have the kind of relationship that’ll eventually mean it’s just us. He isn’t ready yet, and I want him to get this out his system.”
“How fucking understanding,” I say with a humourless laugh. “What a great wife you’ll be. Tell me, when he fucked you, did he make you say it?” She looks less confident as I step closer. “Did he tell you that you were his? Did he force you to scream you belonged to him?”
“All I’m saying is enjoy it while it lasts. Everyone knows he gets bored easily, and your pale, dreary arse won’t hold his attention for long.”