Chapter 22
COLLINS
My skin is a bright red, and glasses off, as I open the bathroom door. A billow of steam releases and I breathe in fresh, cool air. A shower was exactly what I needed—and of course Hayes knew.
I inspected the bruises from Roman’s attack in the mirror. They cover my spine where I slammed into the wall. I ache and my wrist throbs, but I’m glad. It could have been worse.
Hayes sits on my bed, elbows pressed to his thighs, looking off into space. He’s pensive, calm, but the energy surrounding him is anything but. He wants to react—to retaliate. He needs to avenge me.
My heart warms. He’s always been that person. When the bullies got to me, he handled it. Roman is just another bully and he wants to end it.
Sitting beside him, I’m suddenly self-conscious. Why? He saw me at one of my most unhinged moments, fed that side I keep locked up. He’s always been my safe place. As a child, it felt overbearing. Now, it feels like home.
“Better?”
“Much. And I’m a little embarrassed.” I rub my nose. “He’s not even scary. You’re more terrifying.”
He smiles, teeth bright against his rough beard. “Are you afraid of me, viper?”
I scoff. “Not at all.”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says quietly. “It’s hard to be confronted like that and not feel something.”
“I should have stabbed him with my pen.” I really should have. He deserved it, consequences be damned.
“Probably.” He shrugs. “Want to talk about what happened?”
His jaw clenches and his hands ball into tight fists. I don’t want to talk about what Roman did, the fear, the urge to run away to somewhere I’d be protected. And it seems Hayes is battling his own inner demons.
“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’. “He’s a dick and I’m sure he’ll regret what he did.”
Hayes laughs. “Once I get my hands on him? No doubt.”
I bump his arm. “I’m not exactly hating the possessiveness, but you don’t need to pretend now. Maeve will get him, I’m sure.”
He looks to the ceiling, sighing. “Oh, Collins, what do I have to do, to prove that this is me and you’re mine.
” His intense blue eyes rake over my face and body covered by a small white towel.
“Roman fucked with something that’s mine.
You. I don’t take kindly to people touching my things. Especially that abomination.”
Swatting him, I smile. “So I belong to you, huh?”
Grabbing my chin, he brings our lips dangerously close. My body flushes—not from the molten shower, but from the desire his touch ignites.
“Baby, you’ve always belonged to me. You’ve just never realized it.”
I swallow hard. I want to sink into him—his scent, his words, his skin, and forget this terrible day. Somewhere, Hayes became my safe harbor in rough waters and something more—deeper. He became the place where my darkness can rest and be loved.
He might know he gave that to me, but I feel it. My crush was given the tiniest bit of water and has grown into infatuation. One night is all it took. “Tell me something,” I dare. “Anything. Something that I don’t know about you.”
His teasing mask melts into something hard. “You know me, viper. Better than anyone else.”
It’s true. He’s irritated me for years and because of our time together, him guarding me—protecting me, I’ve studied him. Hayes became a fascinating subject, one who was capable of wonderful acts of compassion coupled with his uncanny ability to dive into bloody violence.
“But I don’t know everything,” I argue. “I don’t know where you grew up. I only just found out about your mother. Hell, what’s your favorite color? Just tell me something.” Something to forget the events of the day, and focus on him.
Because as assuredly as I know Hayes’ character, I don’t know him. His past, his goals, his dreams. And I want to know them. I want to know him.
“You don’t want to know that.”
“Really, I do.”
He struggles, pulling at his hair, avoiding looking at me. “It’s not pretty, Collins. We should focus on something else.”
I glare. “I don’t want something else. I want to know you.”
“And I’m telling you,” he voice lowers, gravelly serious, “it’s not worth it.”
“What don’t you want me to know? You don’t trust me?”
My heart drops. I trust him. I trust him to protect me, to be careful with me. I trust him with a piece of my soul no other person sees.
My infatuation cracks, morphing into something that feels like a white hot poker. If he doesn’t trust me, then what I feel for him is one-sided.
He laughs, a strangled noise that catches in his throat. “I trust you. In a way I’ve never trusted anyone else.” He holds up my palm, his hand just out of reach. “Let’s start with a small truth: I trust you enough to let you touch me.”
Touch him?
“I don’t understand.”
He swallows thickly. “I don’t let people touch me, Collins. Not since you.”
My heart soars while my mind malfunctions. It doesn’t compute. Emboldened, I push further. “What else do you let me do that you haven’t with others?” Knowing I’m the first is a drug, something I’m quickly becoming addicted to.
“Ride on the back of my bike,” he says. “You’re the first to. Wear my mother’s ring, is another.”
We both glance at it and he sighs.
“It’s the last piece I have of her.”
I hold my breath. He’s opening up and I don’t want to break the spell. At this point, I’d sew my mouth shut if it meant he’d give me all his secrets.
It’s so much easier to focus on him than Roman.
“Roman mentioned seeing the ring.” My mind flashes to his words and I nod, inhaling deeply. “Because it was last in his family’s safe.”
I tilt my head. “But that would mean—”
“That my mother was connected to the Bruno Family.” He looks up at me. “I’m a Bruno, Collins. My mother was Senior’s favorite.”
Breath rushes past my lips and I deflate, shoulders dropping. Hayes is a Bruno. He’s the brother of the man who is trying to take me—steal me away. His family runs and abuses women.
I study him now. His large blue eyes, the rough beard over a sharp jaw. His thick brown and dark hair. He’s too tall to be a Bruno. He’s too wide. His skin is tan whereas Bruno’s is pale, like the sun abandoned him.
“There’s no way,” I murmur, my finger tracing his chin. “You don’t look like Roman.” Even Julian resembled his brother. But Hayes? No one would know.
“That’s worked in my favor,” he jokes. “No one sees the family resemblance. It’s allowed me to stay undetected.”
“So, when Bruno said your mother’s ring was in the safe, he wasn’t lying.”
Shaking his head, Hayes shrugs. “No. It was there. I stole it the night I ran away.”
My heart clenches in my chest at the simple words full of pain and hurt. Hayes was in the compound—he saw what his family did. He lived with it.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” I say hesitantly. Gripping his hand, I turn it over in my lap, tracing the lines and scars on his palm. “But I’d like to listen. I assume you were never in the running to inherit the throne?”
He scoffs. “The only way I’d have the throne, is if Senior ever claimed me. Hard to do, when no one knew I existed.”
I watch him, the feelings, the pain flash over his face. It’s brutal and steals my breath.
“I wasn’t Senior’s kid, Collins.” He rakes his hand through his locks, distracting himself. “I was just another commodity in that basement of terror.”
“But only his women go there?” The basement was furnished like a brothel, only the women could never leave. Some of the women at the club mentioned chains and that’s all I heard before I shut the images out.
“They have red rooms,” he describes. “About twelve of them. A woman in each room. Attached to the floor by a heavy chain. Each room has a bathroom, but it’s not much.
Just enough to keep the product sanitary.
” His lips twist into a disgusted frown.
“But at the end of the hall, is a blue room. My room.”
Everything stops. My heart pounds in my chest and my knees feel weak. If I were standing, I’d fall over. Hayes was used—abused in that home?
At my wide eyes, Hayes shakes his head. “Yeah. It’s not pretty.”
“But Senior—”
“Didn’t care.” He shrugs and acts as if it’s nothing. It’s in the past and Hayes has spent a majority of his time ignoring the pains of his childhood. “When I was born, and old enough, he put me to work. I never saw my mother. Only on the night she died.”
“How?”
He smiles ruefully. “Overdose. A better end than what Senior planned for her.” My stomach knots and I try not to throw up. “I can tell you about the times men came into my room, Collins, some with presents and some without. But I’d rather not.”
I nod in understanding. It’s terrible and raw—no one should have endured that kind of pain. Least of all Hayes—kind, annoying and cocky but good, Hayes. I don’t push.
Instead, I tighten my hold on his hand and kiss his knuckles. “Thank you for sharing with me.”
He watches with rapt awe. Not at the kiss or the words, but at the meaning. Acceptance. I accept him, his past, this burden he carries. And something ugly slithers in my gut.
I want to pluck every fingernail, toenail, hair out of Senior’s head and any man who touched Hayes, then burn their body in a vat of acid. Just for daring to take from someone innocent—just for daring to touch him.
“This is why,” he says, licking his lips, voice rough, “I won’t let Roman have you. I will never let him have you.”
Smiling softly, I place my chin in his hand. “I know.” And I do. Hayes would never let anyone endure what he did.
It’s why he volunteered to guard me. Why he agreed to play along with my stupid plan. He didn’t need to be second—he did it for me.
My chest warms and I lap up the adoration filling my veins. Everything he’s done has always been for me.
“Does Maeve know?”
Hayes nods, jaws tight. “She does. But she knows out of necessity. You know, because I trust you.” My heart can’t get any fuller. It might explode.
I’m not bitter about their bond—not any longer. This world is dark and dangerous; they needed each other to survive. He had someone in his corner helping him, and I’m thankful for that.
Standing, I place my hands on his shoulders. “I’m glad you had her to share this with. Everyone should have someone they depend on.”
“And now, if I want it to be you?”
I wave his mother’s ring in his face. “Looks like I’m already there.”
Quickly, he pulls me tight to his chest, his face burying into my midsection. Inhaling, he breathes in my scent, shoulders relaxing, tension evaporating.
“I’ll always protect you, Collins,” he vows. “From Roman. From everything. I’ll never let them hurt you.”
Running my hand through his hair, I sniffle. “I’ll protect you too, Hayes. No one will hurt you like that again.”
It’s a small promise, but I mean it. Hayes knows me as the small, studious medical student who can’t use a gun. That doesn’t mean I’m innocent in this life either. Pops made sure of it.
Carefully, he pulls me on to the bed, tucking me against his side.
His lips brush my ear as we settle into the warmth of our combined body heat and the soft duvet underneath. “Sleep, Collins. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Yawning, I shake my head. “I’m not tired.” I’m exhausted, but I want to spend more time with him. Feel him. He shared something with me that few know and I want to latch on to him—make him feel safe.
“Rest, baby. You’ve had a rough day. I’ll fight the monsters while you sleep.”