4. Four
FOUR
THEO
I hadn’t planned on following her, but here I was, sitting across the street from a shitty dive bar called Spanky’s after hailing a cab to follow her when she almost caught me trailing her in the alley. The neon sign flickered and buzzed, casting an eerie red glow across the puddles in the potholed parking lot. What the hell was she doing in a joint like this?
I debated my next move. Following her into the bar would be risky—but before I could decide, she emerged from the rusty door, leaning unsteadily on the arm of a hulking figure in a black leather jacket.
He looked like a tool.
As they stepped into the light, I glimpsed her face—those gray eyes didn’t recognize me as she walked past the taxi.
She was drunk.
The pair climbed into a waiting Cadillac and peeled out, tires squealing. My heart pounded as a quick but unplaceable memory tore through my vision.
The sound of someone screaming for help . . . Broken glass littering the pavement.
I shook my head, the shrieking subsiding as I told the cab driver, “Follow that Caddy, but keep a distance,” I tossed a wad of bills into the front seat .
The driver hesitated momentarily, eyeing me suspiciously in the rearview mirror, but the sight of the cash convinced him to ignore the alarms blaring in his head. He stomped on the gas, and we lurched forward, tailing the Cadillac at a discreet distance.
Who was this gorilla in a leather jacket she was all over?
The driver made a sharp right, and we followed, the cab’s brakes squealing in protest. We were headed into a nicer part of town in the Upper East Side. The Cadillac slowed and pulled up to the curb in front of a three-story townhouse, whose exterior exuded wealth and sophistication, starkly contrasting the seedy bar they’d just left.
The hulking figure emerged from the driver’s side and walked around to open the passenger’s door, offering his hand to help her out. She stumbled slightly as she stood, giggling and leaning into him for support.
I told the cab driver to pull over a block away, my eyes never leaving the pair as they approached the front door of one of the end units. She fumbled with her keys before unlocking the front door. The gorilla tried to push his way inside, but she kept her palm pressed firmly against his chest.
She shook her head, saying something I couldn’t hear from this distance. He tried to lean in, but she turned her face away and he ended up planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek instead. The gorilla’s posture stiffened and he stepped back, his hands raised placatingly. She consolingly patted his arm before gently pushing him back and closing the door, leaving him alone on the stoop.
He stood there, staring at the closed door, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Then, with a sharp turn, he stalked back to the Cadillac, yanked open the door, and slid into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, and the car pulled away from the curb, accelerating down the street.
I leaned forward, tapping the driver on the shoulder. “Park across the street from the townhouse,” I instructed, my eyes fixed on the building’s facade. The driver complied without a word, pulling into an open spot beneath a streetlamp.
The townhouse stood silent and imposing, its windows dark, save for a faint glow emanating from behind the drawn curtains on the second floor. Was she alone in there?
I drummed my fingers on my thigh, weighing my options. I could sit here all night, waiting for something to happen, or I could take a more proactive approach.
Making up my mind, I reached for the door handle. “Keep the meter running,” I told the driver as I stepped onto the sidewalk. “I won’t be long.”
The driver grunted his acknowledgment, his eyes already glued to his phone screen. I crossed the street with a purposeful stride, my gaze fixed on the townhouse. As I drew closer, I noticed a narrow alley running along the side of the building. It was a long shot, but it might provide a way to get a closer look without being seen.
I slipped into the alley, hugging the shadows as I crept along the side of the townhouse. My footsteps seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness of the night, and I winced with each scuff of my shoes against the pavement.
As I neared the back of the building, I spotted a faint light spilling from a small window at ground level—likely a basement or cellar. I crouched down, inching closer to the window, carefully avoiding any stray branches or debris that might give away my presence.
Just then, a loud crash echoed from somewhere inside.
I froze, holding my breath, my heart pounding in my ears. A light flicked on in a third-story window, casting a pale rectangle of illumination onto the patch of grass beside me. I pressed against the rough brick wall, willing myself to become invisible.
Shadows moved behind the curtain, and I could hear the muffled sound of voices—hers and a man’s, deep and unfamiliar. An argument? The words were indistinct, but the tone was unmistakable.
The man’s voice grew louder and angrier, followed by a sharp crack that sounded like a slap. Then the light in the window winked out, plunging the yard back into darkness.
Another item to check off the list of things I hadn’t intended to do tonight was kicking in the back door and barging inside to play the hero. But the sound of the slap and her yelp of pain propelled me into action before I could second-guess myself. I took a step back and delivered a powerful kick right beside the handle. The wood splintered with a satisfying crack, and the door flew open, slamming against the interior wall.
The door was solid oak, but the lock was old and flimsy. I burst into a dimly lit kitchen, my eyes darting around for any sign of her or her assailant. A pot still steamed on the stove, and a half-chopped onion lay on a cutting board, as if her late-night meal prep had been abruptly abandoned. I quickly twisted the knob to the off position, and from upstairs, I heard a thump and a muffled cry. I charged through the kitchen and into a lavishly furnished living room, following the sounds to a grand staircase. Taking the steps two at a time, I raced upward, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I reached the second-floor landing, I heard her voice, pleading and desperate. “Stop! Please. You’re hurting me!”
I didn’t hesitate. I lunged for the door the voice had come from and shouldered it open, nearly stumbling as I burst into the room.
The scene before me made my blood run cold. She was cowering in the corner, her white T-shirt torn, a livid red mark blossoming on her cheek. Looming over her was Connor McKinley, the boyfriend she had just caught cheating on her.
Connor McKinley, the golden boy of collegiate boxing, the man who had it all—looks, charm, and a promising political career. But here he was, his carefully crafted facade shattered, revealing the ugly truth beneath.
He whirled around at my intrusion, his eyes wild and filled with a disturbing mix of rage and something darker, more primal. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he snarled, his fists clenched at his sides.
I ignored him, my gaze fixed on her. “Are you alright?” I asked, taking a step toward her.
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. “I . . . I don’t . . .” she stammered, her voice trembling.
Connor moved to block my path, his tall frame imposing and menacing. “She’s fine,” he snapped. “Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops. ”
I laughed humorlessly. “Go ahead. I’m sure they’d be very interested to hear about daddy’s little golden boy assaulting a woman.”
His face paled, and for a moment, I thought he might back down. But then, with a roar of fury, he lunged at me, his fists flying.
I had expected this, and I was ready. I sidestepped his wild swing and delivered a swift jab to his solar plexus. He doubled over, gasping for air, but recovered quickly, his rage fueling his determination.
We traded blows, crashing into furniture and sending lamps and knickknacks flying. Connor was a skilled boxer, but his technique was sloppy, and his anger mixed with the alcohol seeping out of his pores made him reckless. I managed to land a solid right hook to his jaw, sending him staggering sideways.
He wiped the blood from his split lip, his eyes blazing with fury. “You’re going to regret this, you little bitch,” he growled, circling me like a predator stalking its prey.
I kept my guard up, my gaze flicking between him and her. She had pulled herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall, her eyes wide and frightened.
Connor lunged again, feinting left before delivering a powerful uppercut. I managed to dodge the worst of it, but the blow still grazed my chin, sending stars exploding across my vision. I shook my head to clear it just in time to see him coming at me again.
This time, I was ready. As he swung, I ducked under his arm and drove my fist into his ribs, feeling the satisfying crack of bone. He howled in pain, his arm dropping to protect his side.
Sensing an opening, I pressed my advantage. I swept his leg, sending him crashing to the floor. Before he could recover, I pounced, pinning him with my knee to his chest and my forearm pressed against his throat.
“It’s over, Connor,” I growled, my face inches from his. “If I ever catch wind of you laying a hand on her or any other woman again, I swear to god, I’ll make you wish I had killed you tonight.”
He glared at me, his eyes burning with impotent rage, but said nothing.
I leaned in closer, applying just enough pressure to his windpipe to make my point. “Do we understand each other? ”
He managed a small, tight nod, and I released him. I stepped back and allowed him to pull himself to his feet. He swayed unsteadily, one arm wrapped around his injured ribs, his breath coming in short, pained gasps.
“This isn’t over, Devil.” Connor glared at me with pure hatred, but he knew he was beaten. Without another word, he limped out of the room, each step a testament to the damage I had inflicted.
I watched him go, ensuring he actually left. Only when I heard the front door slam did I allow myself to relax slightly. I turned to her, my bravado fading as I took in her disheveled appearance and the fear that lingered in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, taking a tentative step toward her.
She nodded, her lip trembling. “I think so.”
“Hey,” I said, approaching her slowly, as one might a wounded animal. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
She looked up at me, her gray eyes filled with a tumultuous mix of emotions—fear, confusion, and something akin to gratitude. “Who . . . who are you, really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, suddenly realizing the absurdity of the situation. I had no right to be here, no claim to the role of her savior. I was just a stranger, a shadow following her for reasons I couldn’t even fully articulate to myself.
“I’m . . . a friend ,” I said lamely, the words feeling inadequate even as they left my mouth. “I was worried about you, and I . . . I couldn’t just stand by and let him hurt you.”
“But how did you know where I live?”
Fuck.
How did I explain my reason for being in her house? It wasn’t like we were friends. We’d had one conversation at an afterparty that resulted in my following her—my obsession with her. None of this would make any sense to her right now. So I did something I wasn’t proud of . . . but it was a necessary evil.
I lied.
“I followed your boyfriend.” I gestured toward the door he’d left through.
She stared at me for a long moment, searching my face for something—sincerity, perhaps, or a hint of deceit. Finally, she seemed to find what she’d been looking for. Her shoulders sagged, and she leaned back against the wall, exhaustion etched into every line of her face.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did . . .”
She trailed off, shuddering at the thought. I felt a surge of protectiveness wash over me, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and gently touched her arm. “You don’t have to thank me,” I said firmly. “No one deserves to be treated like that, least of all you.”
She looked at me, studying my face before saying, “You don’t know anything about me.”
She was right, of course. I didn’t know her, not really. But at that moment, I felt I understood her better than anyone else could.
“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But I’d like to, if you’ll let me.”
She hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her delicate features. I could see the conflicting emotions in her eyes—the desire to trust and the fear of being hurt again. I held my breath, waiting for her decision.
She glanced down at her torn shirt and bruised arms as if now realizing the state she was in. “Right,” she murmured, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “I have class in the morning, and then I have to work, so I should really get cleaned up and go to bed.”
She was shutting me out.
I couldn’t blame her. I was a stranger to her. But if she only knew how much I wanted to be close to her. To comfort her and make her forget all about that douchebag while my face was between her legs.
As much as I didn’t want to leave, I nodded, doing my best to hide my disappointment. “Of course. I understand.” I stepped back, giving her space. “I’ll get out of your hair then.”
She looked at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of regret in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a guarded expression. “Thanks again. For everything.”
I managed a small smile. “Anytime.”
I turned to leave, but as I reached the door, her voice stopped me. “Wait.”
I paused, my hand on the doorknob. I hardly dared to breathe. Slowly, I turned back to face her, hope and trepidation warring in my chest.
She stood there, her arms wrapped around herself, looking small and vulnerable in the aftermath of the night’s events. Her eyes met mine, and in their depths, I saw a flicker of something that made my pulse quicken.
“I don’t even know your name,” she said softly. “Surely, ‘the Devil’ isn’t what you go by.”
I smiled and took a step back into the room. “I go by many names.” The Bronze Devil, The Ghost. “But my friends call me Theo. Theo West.”
“Theo,” she repeated as if testing the feel of my name on her tongue. “I’m . . .” She paused. I could tell she was weighing whether or not she wanted to give me any more details about herself. Thankfully, whether by sanity or insanity, she chose right. “Raven.”
“Fitting,” I remarked, glancing at her dark hair. But even as I said it, there was a nagging feeling in my head that the name was not fitting. Goddamn it, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something didn’t quite align with the name she’d given. Maybe it was the way her eyes had shifted colors when she’d said it or the peculiar lilt in her voice that I couldn’t quite place.
She smiled enigmatically. “Very original.”
I chuckled. There was something magnetic about this girl—a sense of danger and intrigue that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Just Raven.”
I nodded, accepting her decision to withhold her surname. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Raven. Officially, that is.”
A ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Likewise, Theo West.” She studied me for a moment, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “You know, you still haven’t explained why you just happened to be following my boyfriend tonight.”
I shrugged, attempting an air of nonchalance. “Call it intuition, I guess. I had a feeling something wasn’t right.”
“Intuition,” she echoed, arching an eyebrow. “Is that what we call stalking these days? ”
My heart skipped a beat, and I fought to keep my expression neutral. “Stalking? That’s a pretty serious accusation.”
She took a step toward me, her gray eyes boring into mine. “Almost as serious as breaking and entering. Which, if I’m not mistaken, is exactly what you did tonight.”
I held up my hands in a pacifying gesture. “Whoa, hold on. I was just trying to help. I heard him laughing with a couple of dipshits at the party that he was going to come over here and teach you a lesson for embarrassing him in front of everyone. When I got here, I heard the commotion, and I reacted. Maybe I shouldn’t have barged in like that, but I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”
Raven regarded me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair. “I suppose I should be grateful. But there’s something I don’t understand.” She looked up at me before continuing, “Why do you care so much, Theo West? Why risk your own safety for a stranger?”
Her question hung in the air between us. It was heavy with unspoken implications. Why did I care so much? It was a question I had been asking myself all night, ever since I’d first seen her at the fight. There was something about her that drew me in. Something that made me want to protect her and keep her safe from harm.
But how could I explain that without sounding like a complete lunatic?
I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “Look, Raven, I know this might sound crazy, but I felt a connection from the moment I saw you at that fight. Like something was pulling me toward you.” I paused, gauging her reaction. When she didn’t immediately recoil in disgust, I pressed on. “And when I overheard those assholes talking about what Connor was planning to do, I couldn’t just ignore it. I had to make sure you were okay.”
Her expression softened slightly, but the wariness didn’t entirely leave her eyes. “A connection,” she repeated slowly, as if testing the word on her tongue. “You do realize how that sounds, right? Like something out of a bad romance novel?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Yeah, I guess it does. But that doesn’t make it any less true.” I took a step closer to her, my heart hammering in my chest. “Look, I’m not expecting anything from you. I want you to know that I’m here if you ever need someone. No strings attached.”
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She bit her lip and fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt before looking up at me. “Actually, speaking of no strings attached, there’s a door that you kicked in that needs to be fixed. How about I cash in on that ‘here if you ever need someone’ offer now ?”
I couldn’t help but grin at her playfulness. I appreciated her wit more than she realized. “Fair enough,” I conceded with a nod. “I did make quite the entrance, didn’t I? I suppose the least I can do is fix what I broke.”
Her lips quirked into a small smile, the first genuine one I’d seen from her all night. “That would be appreciated. I’d rather not have a gaping hole in my back door, inviting every passerby in for a late-night visit.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” I agreed, mentally calculating the supplies I’d need to repair the damage. “I can come back tomorrow if that works for you. I’ll bring my tools and fix it up in no time.”
She hesitated momentarily, and I could see the wheels turning in her head as she considered my offer. “Alright,” she finally said. There was a note of caution still present in her voice. “But just to fix the door. Don’t go getting any ideas.”
I held up my hands in a gesture of innocence. “No ideas here. Just a man with a hammer and a mission to restore your home security.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of amusement that flashed across her face. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered, more to herself than to me.
An awkward silence settled between us, neither of us quite sure how to proceed. I cleared my throat. “Lead the way then,” I said, gesturing for her to go ahead of me. “Your handyman is at your service.”
Rolling her eyes again, she headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I followed close behind, trying not to let my gaze linger too long on the sway of her hips or how her torn shirt revealed tantalizing glimpses of smooth, pale skin .
When we reached the kitchen, I surveyed the damage. The door hung off its hinges, and the frame was splintered where my boot had connected. It looked worse in the bright light of the kitchen than it had in the heat of the moment.
“Shit,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “I really did a number on this thing, huh?”
She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. “That’s an understatement. You’re lucky I don’t call the cops on you for destruction of property.”
I winced at her words, knowing she had every right to be pissed. “I am sorry about that. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight in the moment. All I could focus on was getting to you.”
She sighed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “I know. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m glad you did. Connor is a dick.”
I looked around the kitchen, taking in the high-end appliances and granite countertops. “Nice place you’ve got here, by the way.”
She shrugged. “It’s not really mine. It belongs to my parents. I’m just staying here while I’m in grad school.”
“Grad school, huh? Let me guess—law school? You’ve got that whole ‘justice for all’ vibe going on.” I grinned at her, trying to lighten the mood.
She actually cracked a small smile at that. “Not quite. I’m studying to become a nurse practitioner, actually.”
“A nurse practitioner?” I repeated, pleasantly surprised. “That’s impressive. I can see you in that role—caring, compassionate, no-nonsense, and tough as nails.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Theo West,” she said, but there was a playful expression on her face. She paused, eyeing me curiously. “What about you? What’s your story?”
I shrugged, leaning against the counter beside her. “Not nearly as noble as yours, I’m afraid. I’m just a simple guy trying to make his way in the world.”
“A simple guy who stalks women and kicks down doors, apparently,” she quipped, arching an eyebrow at me.
I had the grace to look sheepish. “That’s not a regular occurrence for me, I swear. You seem to bring out my more . . . impulsive side. ”
“Lucky me,” she deadpanned, but a hint of playfulness in her tone gave me hope. Maybe she didn’t totally despise me after all.
We lapsed into silence for a moment, the weight of the night’s events hanging heavily between us. I could see the fatigue starting to settle on Raven’s delicate features, and I knew it was time for me to take my leave.
I pushed off from the counter, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Well, I should probably get going. Let you get some rest.” I hesitated, not wanting to leave her alone after everything that had happened. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? I could crash on the couch if you want some company.”
Raven shook her head, a small, tired smile on her lips. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be okay. It’s been a long night, and I want to take a hot shower and crawl into bed.”
I nodded, understanding her need for solitude. “Fair enough. But if you need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to call me, okay?” I pulled out my phone and handed it to her. “Text yourself. That way, you can reach me whenever.”
She took the phone, her fingers brushing against mine and sending a jolt of electricity through my body. She quickly typed in her number and handed it back. “There. Now you have no excuse not to show up bright and early tomorrow to fix my door.”
I grinned, pocketing the phone. “I wouldn’t dream of standing you up. I’ll be here with bells on, ready to put my handyman skills to the test.”
She walked me to the front door, and I stepped out into the cool night air. I turned back to face her, drinking in the sight of her one last time. Even disheveled and exhausted, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and kiss away the pain and fear of the night. She didn’t know I could be everything she needed right now.
“Good night, Raven,” I said softly. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She nodded as her gray eyes met mine. “Good night, Theo.”
With that, she gently closed the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the stillness of the night. I stood there for a moment, staring at the polished wood. I dismissed the taxi and then called the boys to bring me a car and some tools. I would stand watch the rest of the night to make sure Connor didn’t return.
I had come here tonight intending to watch her, but instead, I’d found myself drawn into her world, compelled to protect her from the dangers that lurked there. She didn’t know it yet, but my path and her path were now inexplicably intertwined, for better or for worse .