8. Eight
EIGHT
THEO
A rcher, Kai, and I had been thicker than thieves since we’d been young boys. We’d bled together, sweated together, ended up in mischief together, and if it called for it, we would have died for each other. So when I’d approached Archer and Kai on the night of the masquerade, I’d known they’d be up for a winter night’s ride, especially if it had the potential to end in the death of our enemies. So we’d followed the Morgans, but we’d been too late. By the time we’d found them, their car had already been upside down.
I closed my eyes, remembering the heat of the flames licking at my skin, the twisted metal, and the acrid smell of burning flesh. And in the midst of it all, a girl with gray eyes, trapped in the wreckage, barely conscious as I’d pulled her out and cradled her in my arms. Her face had been covered with blood and soot, only her scared eyes shining through all the devastation. I’d carried her to safety as Archer had called for help. She’d been so young, only twenty years old, so fragile. I remembered the way she’d clung to me, her tears soaking through my shirt as she’d sobbed for her parents. We had waited with her and her brother until the ambulance had arrived, then slipped away into the shadows. The only reason Gage and Wrenly were still alive was because the Russians didn’t believe in punishing the children for the sins of their fathers. The only redeeming quality they had .
I now knew what had happened to the girl I’d saved that night. Wrenly Morgan was the lost heiress of a billion-dollar empire and the daughter of Thomas Morgan, late Brotherhood leader. She was The Brotherhood’s skeleton in the closet, and she had no clue that she had been a part of my world all along.
She had no memory of me. And for now, I’d keep it that way.
By the time she finally stirred awake, it was late in the evening. She reached for her phone and started typing away on the keyboard.
Then, her phone rang, and she cleared her throat before answering. “Hey, Jake . . . I’m just lying in bed. What are you doing? . . . Yeah, I’d love to come . . . Text me the address. I’ll take an Uber and see you at the party . . . Sounds great. I’ll see you in a bit.”
My jaw clenched. I was almost certain “Jake” was the douche I’d seen taking her home the night I’d barged through her door.
I watched her get out of bed and head to the bathroom for a shower. Grabbing my keys, I rushed to her place. Once I parked around the corner, I accessed the camera footage on my phone. She had finished showering, her hair was straightened, and her makeup perfectly applied. She stepped into her closet and picked out a short black dress. My breath hitched as she slipped it on; the lace fabric barely reaching her thighs.
She checked her appearance in the mirror, and the expression of sadness on her face from earlier was now replaced with determination. I knew that look all too well. She was going to that party to forget. She was hurting inside, and this was just a temporary distraction.
Wrenly stepped outside, locking her front door behind her. She walked down the driveway toward the waiting Uber, her Louboutin heels clicking loudly on the pavement. As she climbed into the backseat, I started my motorcycle and waited until the Uber pulled away before following at a discreet distance. The thought of her in that revealing dress, surrounded by drunk college guys with wandering hands, made my blood boil. Despite the fact that she had no memory of me, I knew deep down that we were connected and that the night of the accident had bound us together in a way that couldn’t be undone .
When the Uber stopped in front of a sprawling mansion in the wealthy suburbs, I parked a block away and watched as she stepped out. The short hem of her dress rode up her thighs, and she tugged it down self-consciously before heading toward the front door, where music and laughter spilled out into the night.
I waited a few minutes before following behind her, blending into the crowd of partiers. The mansion was packed, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and weed. I scanned the crowd and found her by the bar, downing a shot of tequila as Jake stood beside her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. Anger flared within me at the sight. I would cut his hands off for touching her. He leaned in close, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. But I could see the tightness around her eyes and the way her smile didn’t quite reach them.
As the night wore on, she continued to drink, and I noticed her slurring her words and stumbling as she walked. Jake encouraged her, plying her with more drinks, which she gladly accepted. He pulled her onto the dance floor, his hands roaming over her body.
She didn’t push him away.
She let him paw at her, grabbing her ass and her perfect round tits. I wanted to murder that little fuck. Make him choke on his blood while I pummeled his face in. Feel his bones break under my fists. He whispered in her ear, and she nodded, a dazed look on her face as he took her hand and led her toward the stairs. I followed close behind, my body shaking with rage. They disappeared into a bedroom, the door closing behind them.
My vision went red as I stalked down the hallway behind them, weaving in and out of couples groping and making out.
I could have walked away, and I probably should have.
A better man would have.
But I’ve never claimed to be the better man.
Instead, I stood outside the door and listened to the muffled sounds coming from inside—the creaking of bedsprings, soft moans, the rustling of sheets. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I imagined what that punk ass was doing to her, taking advantage of her intoxicated state .
She may not have remembered me, but I remembered her. The blood on her mother’s pale face, her eyes closed forever. Her father’s neck twisted at a grotesque angle. I remembered pulling her broken body from the wreckage that night, the way she’d clung to me, and the haunted look in her stormy gray eyes. Something had shifted inside me long ago—a primal need to protect her, to own her, to make her mine.
I slipped through the door quietly, unseen. The room was dark, barely illuminated by a lava lamp in the corner that cast shadows across the walls. Wrenly was splayed out on the bed, her dress hiked up around her waist, exposing her lacy black panties. Jake was on top of her, kissing and groping her sloppily as she lay there passively, her eyes glazed over. He fumbled with his zipper, too drunk and eager to undress properly.
Rage consumed me at the sight of his filthy hands on her perfect porcelain skin. Without a second thought, I grabbed him by the back of the shirt collar and ripped him off her, throwing him to the floor with a satisfying thud.
“What the fuck, man?” Jake slurred, struggling to sit up. His eyes widened in recognition and fear when he saw me looming over him.
I didn’t give him a chance to say another word. My fist connected with his jaw with a sickening crack. He collapsed back onto the floor, spitting blood and teeth. I pounded into him mercilessly, unleashing all my pent-up fury. He had dared to touch her, defile her. She was mine. Only I could have her.
Wrenly sat up on the bed, startled and disoriented by the commotion. “Theo? What . . . what are you doing here?” Her words were slurred as she squinted to get a better look at what was going on.
I ignored her question as I continued to rain blows down on Jake’s face, now a bloody, unrecognizable mess. He had long since stopped fighting back, rendered unconscious by my brutal assault.
Her small, trembling hand touched my shoulder. “Theo, stop. You’re going to kill him.”
Her voice penetrated the haze of rage, and I ceased my attack, my chest heaving with exertion. I stood slowly, looming over Jake’s prone body .
“He deserves worse for touching you,” I growled, wiping the blood from my split knuckles onto my jeans.
She looked at me with wide, frightened eyes, pupils dilated from the alcohol and whatever else she had taken. “What are you talking about? Why are you even here?”
I turned to face her fully, drinking in the sight of her disheveled appearance—dress bunched up, hair mussed, lipstick smeared. Even in this state, she was fucking breathtaking.
“To protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection. I’m a big girl, Theo. I can take care of myself.” She swayed slightly on her feet.
I stepped closer to her, my eyes never leaving hers. “Can you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you were about to let that piece of shit take advantage of you.”
She glared at me defiantly. “Take advantage of me? That may be your perception, but I am fully capable of deciding what I want to do with my body. What I do and who I do it with is none of your damn business. You’re not my keeper.”
She brushed past me, stumbling slightly on her heels as she made her way to the door. I caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks.
She whirled around to face me, yanking her arm from my grasp. “You had no right to barge in here like some jealous Neanderthal and beat Jake to a pulp. You turned me down, remember? You didn’t want me. You made that abundantly clear.”
I pulled her close. “I never said I didn’t want you. I said I didn’t want to taint you. There’s a difference.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “Oh, so you were just looking out for my best interests, is that it? How noble of you.”
“Damn right, I was. And I’m looking out for them now too. You’re drunk and high off god knows what. You’re in no state to be making decisions about who you go to bed with.”
There was fire in her eyes even through the haze of intoxication as she laughed bitterly. “So now you’re the moral authority on who I fuck? That’s rich coming from you.”
Her words cut deep, striking at the heart of my hypocrisy. She was right. Who was I to pass judgment when my own hands were so filthy with sin?
I held her gaze, my jaw clenching. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I guess that makes two of us, then.”
As if to prove her point, she turned on her heel and unsteadily marched for the door again. I moved to block her path.
“I’m taking you home.”
“The fuck you are. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
She was so damn stubborn, even when she could barely stand on her own two feet. “Someone has to make sure you don’t end up passed out in a ditch.”
“My hero,” she spat sarcastically. “I’ll call an Uber.”
She fumbled for her phone, nearly dropping it. I snatched it from her hands before she could protest.
“You’re not getting in a car with some stranger in your condition. I’m taking you home. End of discussion,” I said firmly, pocketing her phone.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? First, you reject me, then you beat up my date, and now you’re kidnapping me.”
“It’s not kidnapping if it’s for your own good,” I retorted.
“Says every psycho ever.”
I took a deep breath, trying to rein in my temper. “Look, you can be pissed at me all you want, but I’m not letting you leave here alone. You can either come with me willingly, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. Your choice.”
She glared at me mutinously for a long moment, swaying unsteadily on her feet. The wheels turned in her alcohol-addled mind, weighing her limited options. Finally, she let out an exasperated huff of resignation.
“Fine, you overbearing asshole. But this doesn’t mean I forgive you for being a caveman.”
I bit back a smirk. Even drunk and defiant, she was fucking adorable. “Noted.”
I placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. The party was still in full swing, so no one paid us any attention.
The cool night air seemed to revive her somewhat. She shivered in her thin dress, goosebumps pebbling her skin. Without a word, I shrugged out of my leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at me in surprise but pulled it tighter around herself.
She brushed off my grasp as we approached my motorcycle. “I’m not getting on that death trap with you again.”
“It’s perfectly safe. I’m an excellent driver,” I assured her, handing her my spare helmet.
She eyed it dubiously. “I’m wearing a dress.”
“So hike it up.” The mental image of her straddling my bike, dress bunched up around her hips, had my cock hardening in my jeans.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she sneered, grudgingly accepting the helmet.
I climbed on first, kick-starting the engine. It roared to life beneath me. Wrenly hesitated before hiking her dress up and swinging her leg over the bike behind me.
“On second thought, you sit in front of me.”
I could only imagine the cute little scowl on her face, but she didn’t argue, likely realizing she was too unsteady to hold on securely behind me. I climbed off the bike and motioned for her to scoot up. She shot me a distrustful look but did as I said, positioning herself on the seat. I got on behind her, caging her small body between my arms as I reached for the handlebars. She stiffened at our close proximity, wedging herself between my spread thighs. The heat of her body against my front was an exquisite torture. I bit back a groan as she wriggled to get comfortable, her round ass nestling right against my hardening cock.
“Stop squirming,” I gritted out, my hands moving to her hips to still her movements.
She craned her neck to look back at me, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “What’s the matter, Theo? Am I making you . . . uncomfortable?” She punctuated the question with a deliberate roll of her hips.
Minx .
Even drunk, she knew exactly what she was doing to me. Two could play that game.
I leaned forward, pressing my chest flush against her back, and brought my lips to her ear. “Hold on tight.”
She shivered but grabbed onto the fuel tank obediently.
I revved the engine and took off down the street, her body molded against mine as we wove through traffic. Despite the cold air whipping past us, my body was on fire everywhere we touched. She leaned into me on the turns, her sweet scent surrounding me, driving me to distraction.
It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to pull over and take her right there on the side of the road. To hike up that sinful dress even farther, rip off her panties, and bury myself inside her tight, wet heat. To make her scream my name as I claimed her, marked her, and made her mine in every way.
But she was drunk and emotionally vulnerable, and I was already toeing a dangerous line tonight. I had let my baser instincts override my better judgment. I needed to get her home safely and then put some much-needed distance between us before I did something we’d both regret.
When we arrived at her place, I cut the engine and steadied the bike so she could climb off. She wobbled a bit on her heels, and I quickly dismounted to grab her elbow and keep her upright.
“I’ve got it,” she snapped, shaking off my hand. Even disheveled and unsteady, her pride was still intact. She marched toward her front door, digging through her small purse for her keys.
I followed behind, watching hawkishly to make sure she got inside safely. She fumbled with the keys, cursing under her breath as she struggled to fit them into the lock with her intoxicated, clumsy fingers. I gently took them from her and unlocked the door, pushing it open. She stumbled inside and kicked off her heels haphazardly.
“I can take it from here,” she slurred as she turned to face me. She shrugged out of my jacket and held it out to me. “Thanks for the ride.”
I ignored the proffered jacket. “I’m not leaving until you’re safely in bed.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. ”
“Humor me.”
She threw her hands up in exasperation and marched unsteadily toward the stairs. I watched tensely as she clumsily made her way up, my hands hovering behind her, poised to catch her if she stumbled. She reached the top of the landing without incident and headed down the hall to her bedroom. I followed a few paces behind.
She paused in her doorway and turned to glare at me. “You can go now,” she said contemptuously. “I think you’ve filled your white knight quota for the night.”
I ignored her dismissal and stepped past her into the bedroom, flicking on the light, taking care not to inadvertently look in the direction of the cameras I had placed. It was a dark, feminine space, and I took in the details better than I had when I’d busted down her door—dark gray walls adorned with black_and-white photos of foggy forests, a plush charcoal carpet, and a large four-poster bed draped in silky black sheets and decorative pillows and throws. Her bedroom suited her with its elegant blend of moody hues and sumptuous textures.
She made an indignant noise behind me. “Sure, come on in. Make yourself at home,” she said sarcastically, tossing her purse onto the dresser.
Ignoring her quip, I strode to the bed, pulling back the covers. “Get in,” I ordered, nodding toward the sheets.
She folded her arms in challenge. “I don’t take orders from you.” But even as she said it, I could see her struggling to keep her eyes open.
I sighed. My patience was running thin. “Get in the damn bed.”
“And then what? You’ll read me a bedtime story and tuck me in?” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
I quirked an eyebrow. “If that’s what you want.”
She glared at me. “What I want is for you to leave. I didn’t ask for your help tonight.”
Biting back a frustrated growl, I closed the distance between us in two long strides. She swayed on her feet but held her ground, tilting her chin to meet my gaze with those stubborn, glassy eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, nearly eclipsing the stormy gray of her irises. Without a word, I scooped her up in my arms, ignoring her startled yelp of protest.
“Put me down, you Neanderthal!” She pounded her small fists against my chest, but there was little strength behind the blows. I carried her over to the bed and deposited her in the center of the mattress. She glared up at me defiantly.
“Stay,” I commanded as she sat up.
She huffed but fell back, her hair fanned out across the pillows, exhaustion and drunkenness finally dulling her ability to put up a fight. Thank god. I pulled the covers up over her prone form. She turned her face away from me, her eyes fluttering closed.
I stepped back and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest as her breathing evened out. She looked so young and innocent in sleep, her face relaxed and unguarded. It was hard to reconcile this peaceful creature with the fiery, defiant woman who had stood up to me all night.
Satisfied that she was settled, I turned to leave. But something made me pause in the doorway, an unfamiliar tightness in my chest. Watching over her tonight, seeing the reckless way she’d drowned her sorrows in alcohol and men, stirred a protectiveness in me that I didn’t quite understand. She was under my skin, burrowing deeper with every heated exchange—every challenging look from those stormy gray eyes.
I knew then with a bone-deep certainty that I would kill for this woman. I would burn the world to ash to keep her safe. Because whether she remembered that night long ago or not, she was mine. She had been mine from the moment I’d pulled her broken body from the twisted wreckage, our fates intertwined by fire and blood. And nothing, not even her stubborn pride or my own twisted demons, would change the immutable truth.
With one last lingering look at her sleeping form, I forced myself to walk away, closing the front door softly behind me. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed with a heavy finality. I climbed onto my bike and stared up at her darkened window like some lovesick fool.
What was this woman doing to me? I had never let anyone get under my skin like this. I didn’t do attachments or complications. My life was too unpredictable, too dangerous for anything more than fleeting pleasure and release. And yet, here I was, unable to tear myself away from her, even knowing the inevitable pain and destruction it would bring down on both of us.
Because the truth was, no matter how fiercely she fought it, Wrenly Morgan belonged to me, body and soul. And the dark, primal part of me would never let her go, no matter the cost. I would possess every part of her until she understood she was mine and mine alone.
I sped off into the night, the cold wind whipping past my face as I tried to outrun the chaos in my mind. The memory of her warm, pliant body pressed against mine on the ride here tormented me. The scent of her perfume still clung to my leather jacket.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Kai.
Where the fuck are you? You’re missing one hell of a party. The redhead is asking about you . . .
I ignored the text and shoved the phone back into my pocket. Kai could have his fun, but my mind was consumed by a raven-haired beauty currently sleeping off too much tequila. Her face haunted me—those tumultuous gray eyes that saw too much, pouty pink lips that begged to be claimed, and creamy skin I ached to mark as my own.
I ended up at the docks, another place I often went to think. A place that held memories of my fucked-up past. The inky black water and the distant city lights usually calmed my restless spirit.
But not tonight.
Tonight, the waves crashing against the shore only reminded me of the turmoil raging inside me.
She had no idea what a dangerous game she was playing. She had no clue about the darkness inside me, the brutal, unforgiving world that had forged me into the man I was. I had spent years building walls around the blackened, twisted thing that passed for my heart. Brick by brick, I’d fortified my defenses, never letting anyone close enough to glimpse the ugliness inside. Feelings were a weakness I couldn’t afford in my world. They made you reckless. Sloppy. They gave your enemies a weapon to wield against you.
But somehow, without even trying, she had slipped past those carefully constructed barriers like a thief in the night. Watching her carelessness tonight had pushed me to the brink of madness.
She was playing with fire, dancing precariously close to the flames without realizing she was one wrong step from being incinerated by the inferno raging inside me. I wanted to simultaneously shield her from the brutality of my world and drag her into the shadows with me, corrupting that pure light until she understood the futility of trying to escape the gravity between us. She would either be the key to my salvation or the bullet that ended me. But I was already too far gone to care.