Chapter 5 Griffin Colson #3
I go absolutely still. The air itself feels like it has frozen around me. My breath comes slow, too slow. I have to manually stop myself from exploding.
“Bullshit, and you know it. He would have taken from you anyway.” I take a second, then make a decision. “Name,” I snarl. “Give me his fuckin’ name.”
“He never told me his name.” She opens her eyes.
The blue-green hue almost glassy, the whites engulfing them. She’s terrified of what they will do if I try to stop them. I rub the scars on my knuckles again.
“Then we find out.” I’ve already decided. “You got security footage? Phone records? Anyway to track them down?”
She shakes her head. And then she does something I didn’t expect.
She tells me what happened. The whole story.
I listen quietly but hearing it out loud is a lesson in restraint I never knew I needed.
It’s exactly what I thought. Alexei Sokolov’s fucking goons expanding territories and shaking down locals.
The guilt and rage burn through me again like acid in my veins.
She’s wrong though. What happened to her didn’t happen because she told them no.
It would have happened eventually even if she did everything they said.
These men don’t give a fuck who they destroy.
“I fought but...” She looks down at her broken nails.
She’s so tough, this tiny spitfire. She’s a woman cornered by monsters and forced to fight back with the little she has.
My hands are clenched into fists and my muscles are rigid.
I want to commit violence so bad I can taste it.
She’s battered and exhausted in her home that no longer feels safe and still so damn brave, planning to find a way to beat them on her own.
Her next words cut even deeper and I have to stop myself before I put my fist through her wall.
I feel restless with the need to act, to deal with this in the only way men like me know how.
“The other two planned to take their turn until I agreed to do what they wanted. The leader, the one who...” Tears well up in her eyes.
“He said they’d be back with the details.
And they left. It happened because I said no.
Because I stood up to them. He said he was teaching me a lesson in respect. If you fight them—”
“They aren’t teachin’ you respect,” I rumble. “They’re teachin’ you fear. And they think it worked.” I meet her gaze. “But it didn’t, did it? ‘Cause here you are still fightin’.”
“They can’t have Moonglow.” She looks at the floor. “I only need to figure it out. If you get involved they will kill us both. There’s no point in risking your life over this too.”
I watch her closely and wonder what happened that makes her so damn determined to fight this battle alone.
I shake my head. “You really think it’s smart to play along before you get another chance to run? They won’t give you a minute to catch your breath before they’re back on your doorstep.” I want her to let me fight with her; to convince her she won’t survive this on her own.
“I don’t have any other choice,” she says defiantly.
“I can collect evidence, names, intel. They can use my stockroom for meetings and I can put in recording devices. I can keep track of the money I help them launder and the amounts. I can do something.” She cranes her neck to look up at me.
“This isn’t the kind of thing where I turn the guy in for assaulting me.
Another asshole will take his place next week.
I have to get enough to take them all down in one go.
And even then I’m probably going to end up dead. But my store is all I have.”
I’m torn between admiration and frustration, because that is the most reckless, fucked up, gutsy as hell plan I’ve ever heard.
I sit down on the couch across from her and rub the stubble on my chin, wanting to know her story.
She’s truly prepared to die for this store.
She had the option to run and hide and she chose to stay and fight.
It’s terrifying and respectable, all at the same time.
“You think they won’t sniff out a recordin’ device?” I grind my teeth. “These aren’t street thugs, they’re professionals. You get caught with intel, and they won’t just kill you.” I lean forward. “They’ll make sure it takes days.”
The idea of walking away from her now is unthinkable. I’d much rather she let me hunt them all down and make sure they’re buried six feet under for what they did to her. But I can tell she’s not going to agree to that. Yet.
“Fine.” I give in against my better judgment. “You want intel? Names? Proof for someone big enough to take them down for good? Then let me fuckin’ help.”
“No.” She squares her shoulders, shaking her head. “I’m not dragging someone else down with me.”
“Not your call to make.” The conversation is over.
“You don’t get to decide what risks I take.
” I sit on the coffee table in front of her.
“So here’s how this goes. Either I walk out that door right now and you deal with this alone, or you let me stay and we do this right.
But either way? You’re not gonna stop me from puttin’ bullets in the skull of every last person that hurts you. ” I pause. “Your move, Wildflower.”
She searches my face. Expecting her to trust me after what she went through is a long shot. But I’m hoping something she sees will convince her to let me keep her safe.
After a while, she huffs and deflates. “Fine.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. But I don’t grin or gloat. We don’t have that kind of rapport. “Good.” I can tell she’s exhausted by the slope of her shoulders and the weariness around her eyes. “You sleep. I’ll watch the door. And when you wake up, we start plannin’.”
“Wait, you want to sleep here?” She relaxes but her fingers fiddle with the end of her robe.
“You really think I’m gonna leave you alone after tonight?”
“I met you yesterday. We’ve had all of two conversations and one of them was with me naked and bleeding in a shower. You expect me to let you sleep in my loft?” She runs her fingers through her hair and bites her lip ring.
I fight the impulse that little action brings out in me and hold up my hands in surrender. “I’m not expectin’ anything. But I’m also not leavin’ you defenseless while they know exactly where to find you.” I add quietly, “Lock me out if you want. But I’ll be right outside your door either way.”
She glances at the door. “You can sleep downstairs on one of the couches.” Then her brows draw together and her fingers touch her chin. “How did you get in here? Did you break one of my locks?”
I tell her, what? That I scaled her building and slipped in through her window? That’s exactly what I did, and hell if I’m not amused by the look on her face right now. “I didn't break your locks.” I hold back a grin and nod toward the open window. “I used the fire escape.”
She gapes at me like I grew a second head. “But the ladder is pulled up, how could you...”
She gingerly gets up. The soreness of what happened to her setting in.
I have an overwhelming urge to pick her up, take her to bed and dote on her like she’s the only thing in this world that matters.
Where the fuck did that come from? I’ve never doted on anyone in my life.
She puts on an exaggerated show of walking to the window, shutting it, and locking it, making it very obvious I’m not allowed to do that again. I chuckle.
She nods at the door. “Do you need anything to eat or drink before...”
“Nah, I’m good.” I walk out onto the landing, sweeping my surroundings out of habit. I turn back to her. “You sure you’re alright bein’ alone?”
“I’ve been alone a long time. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She gives me a half smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and promptly shuts the door in my face.
I stand frozen, staring. I can’t decide whether to be impressed or worried. Finally, I smirk, shake my head, and walk down the stairs. Then mentally catalogue all the weak points in her security and gauge how fast I can get to her if something goes wrong.
“Lock the damn door,” I call over my shoulder before disappearing down the steps.