Chapter One #2
“What the hell do you want now?” She snaps at him, his eyes widen fractionally but he tries to play off how taken aback he was “I’m sorry, okay?
I shouldn’t have ignored you for so long, I’m not some asshole that picks and chooses what woman he speaks to.
I don’t think with my dick, promise.” He begs her for forgiveness and reluctantly she gives in, as I stand up from the stool I see her give him his number.
“Don’t fuck it up Jace.” I warn him, not needing to say any more I head towards the VIP area to check on Olive.
The security guard instantly opens the rope and lets me pass, I nod at him as I head inside “Olive, you okay?” I ask her as I take a seat beside her, glancing at the sleazebags she’s situated herself with. “Yeah honey, I’m fine, want to join us?” She slurs, tipsy already, typical…
“I can stay for a little while, sure.” I agree, sipping my drink, I feel the couch sink down beside me as someone takes a seat at my side, I turn to face the brave asshole that decided to take a chance.
I instantly regret looking, it’s yet another frat boy with unlimited access to daddy’s credit card and isn’t shy about flaunting it, his eyes rake over my form before he speaks “God you’re gorgeous, whats your name?
” He coos at me in a sickening tone, I push down the urge to physically recoil from his voice.
“I’m Mara, and you are?” I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all the most he’s done so far is compliment me, and I don’t shy away from those often.
After around thirty minutes of downing drinks and trying to stop this asshole from hitting on me and trying to take me home I finally get fed up, I stand heading towards the rope again “Hey, hey, hey! Where you going gorgeous?” He calls out, reaching out to take my hand, I quickly snatch it away.
“The bar.” I reply, my tone bored. “I’d rather deal with the assholes down there than whatever the fuck this is.
” I gesture between him and the group of friends he’s with “If you look down there and to the left, there’s a group of women that would fawn over a spoiled little child with mommy and daddy’s credit cards, want me to introduce you?
” I say with a venomous edge to my voice, cutting his thoughts short, his face twists into annoyance, rejection clearly doesn’t sit well with him.
“You’re a fucking prude.” He spits at me, I raise an eyebrow.
“Not a prude, I’d rather go home with a man that could actually satisfy me, rather than give me a mediocre four minutes and zero aftercare.” I smirk at him, pleased with my quick wit tonight.
I flip him off and leave the VIP area, I can still hear him cussing me out as I head downstairs and back to the bar, once again I feel the same gaze on me that I did outside of the studio, my eyes scanning my surroundings, I wont see him here, that’d be a funny coincidence right?
Right?
Wrong, my gaze lands on the same figure from the alleyway, his face hidden in the dim lighting and the hood that obscures his face, I can feel the energy emanating from him, its suffocating in a way that I feel surrounded by him, even though he is on the other side of the bar, I try to ignore the eyes that I can’t see following my every move, the posture that is positively threatening.
I decide now’s some time to get some fresh air, I produce the packet of cigarettes from my jacket pocket and my lighter and walk towards the smoking area outside.
Once the night air hits me, the alcohol finally settles in my blood, giving me a slight buzz.
I sit down on the bench and spark the cigarette, taking a long drag of my favorite bad habit. I exhale softly watching the smoke mix with the cold night air.
“There you are.” A familiar voice calls out from behind me, I turn to face the asshole from before.
“For fucks sake can’t a girl get five minutes around here?” I say, an exasperated edge to my voice.
“You embarrassed me in front of my friends.” His voice has a vicious edge to it now, he takes long strides closing the distance between us, my eyes dart to the nearest door, planning an escape route on instinct.
“I said I wasn’t interested, maybe you didn’t get the memo with all that ego in your head?” I say in a sweet tone “How about you leave me the fuck alone and go for some freshly turned 21 year old, they love a man with money.” I offer a solution to his problem, this only ignites his anger further.
I stand and back up towards the wall, before I realize he has me closed in, hands braced on the wall either side of my head.
His hand traces my cheek and it takes every ounce of restraint not to bite his filthy digits off of his hand, I clench my jaw and turn away from him, a sharp grip on my jaw snaps my gaze back to his.
“Such a dirty mouth, how about I fill it with my cock, wont you shut up then?” He whispers in my ear, panic floods through my system and my hands begin to shake.
“Let me go.” I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from insulting him further, that’d only make things worse.
His hands greedily explore my body, I choke back a gag as I try to pry his hands off of me, his thigh presses between my legs.
“Get off me!” I shout, shoving at his chest.
It happens in a blur.
The sound hits me first.
A body slamming into brick.
A choked gasp.
A warning I didn’t see coming.
I turn, and that is when I see him.
He has the man who was going to hurt me pinned to the wall with one arm.
Not struggling. Not straining. Just holding him there as if the man weighs nothing.
His forearm is pressed across the guy’s chest, high enough to make breathing difficult, low enough that he could shift an inch and crush his throat if he wanted to.
And from the look on his face, he might want to.
His hood has fallen back, revealing dark hair that falls in loose, messy strands around his face. The dim alley light catches on the angles of his jaw, sharp and unforgiving. His cheekbones are high, giving him a sculpted, almost severe look, softened only by the faint stubble shadowing his jaw.
His eyes are the first thing that truly hit me. Dark. Heavy-lidded. Focused in a way that feels dangerous. He looks at the man he’s holding, he’s already decided his fate. He looks at me, proving I’m the reason he’s here.
The tattoos on his neck and chest disappear beneath his shirt, but what I can see is bold and intricate. Black ink that draws the eye down the line of his throat, over the cut of his collarbone, disappearing into fabric like secrets he keeps buried under skin.
His mouth is set in a hard line. Not angry. Not shouting. Just controlled. Controlled in the way a storm is controlled right before it breaks.
The man in his grip tries to speak, but he pushes harder, and the sound dies in his throat. The stranger doesn’t even look at him. His attention is on me now, being caught in the pull of something I don’t understand.
His scent reaches me even from where I stand. Warm cedar. Smoke. Heat. It rolls through the confined space like a warning, the air itself knows exactly what he is capable of.
He didn’t step in to scare the man. He stepped in to stop him. And if I hadn’t turned when I did, I’m not sure the man would still be breathing.
He lets the asshole go.
The guy drops dead weight, coughing and clutching his throat, eyes wide with panic. He doesn’t even look at me as he scrambles to his feet and bolts back inside, tripping over himself in his rush to get away. Good. Fuck him.
I watch him disappear, adrenaline still buzzing under my skin, then force myself to turn toward the man who saved me.
“I… thank you…” The words feel clumsy, too small for what just happened. My hands shake as I smooth down my clothes, tucking my shirt back into my trousers, trying to make myself look less like someone who just got grabbed and shoved around. It’s pointless. I feel wrecked. Shaken. Exposed.
He doesn’t say a damn thing.
He just stands there, staring at me with that heavy, unreadable gaze. There’s something in his eyes that makes my stomach twist, something sharp and unspoken, as though he’s holding back words that would change everything if he let them out.
A threatening presence. The same one I’ve felt at my back for weeks. In the alley behind the studio. In the stairwell of my apartment complex. Always close. Always watching.
Was it him? Has it been him this whole fucking time? Or am I actually losing it?
My legs feel like they’re made of water as I walk to the bench. I yank out another cigarette, light it with hands that won’t steady, and inhale hoping it might glue me back together. It doesn’t. The smoke shakes on the exhale.
He still doesn’t speak.
He just stands there for a few more moments, silent and unmoving, watching me as if he’s trying to decide something. Like he wants to say something but refuses to let it out. I can see he’s fighting with himself.
Then he turns and walks away.
No words, no explanation, just gone.
I’m left staring at the empty space he leaves behind, confused, rattled, and completely fucking alone.
I decide I’m done with this night, done with the club, done with people.
I walk the whole way home, pulling my jacket tighter around my torso, every shadow feeling like it’s hiding someone. Every footstep behind me making my pulse spike. I keep my head down, moving fast, terrified someone else might see me the way that prick in the VIP area did.
Terrified that next time, I won’t have someone stepping out of the dark to stop it.
Kade
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What the fuck was this woman thinking?
Walking into danger like she’s untouchable.
Mouthing off to that asshole, making me think she’s never learned what men like him do when no one’s watching. No survival instinct.
No radar. Nothing.
I should have dragged her out of there the second she opened her mouth. Should have put her against the wall and told her exactly how close she came to getting hurt. Should have made her understand.