Chapter Eighteen
Vik
Ihate how Hannah makes me feel.
I hate the yearning that comes with watching my messages being read and ignored. The sting of knocking on her door only to be met with silence. Most of all, I hate how desperately I want things to go back to the way they were.
This isn’t who I am. I built an empire from nothing. I’ve hunted men for years without hesitation. I’ve waited and stalked targets for weeks before making a calculated move.
Yet somehow... cooking this meal is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Because deep down, I know there’s so much riding on it. We’re not simply sharing dinner. This is my attempt to show Hannah I want...
More.
I’m in the kitchen, dicing peppers and cucumber for the salad that’ll accompany our roast beef. My phone sits beside the chopping board, taunting me. Every notification sparks a flicker of hope... only to be dashed by another message from work or an update from one of my men.
I knocked on Hannah’s door earlier. Like every other attempt, she gave me nothing.
Still... I suppose that wasn’t the worst outcome.
Had she answered, I wouldn’t have known what to say.
Or what to do. So, I tell myself she’s asleep.
Curled up in bed, drifting through dreams, unable to hear me.
Resting. Gathering her strength for our dinner together.
I know better.
She simply doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’s not a reality I can accept lightly. My power and influence have always drawn people toward me, eager for the things only I can provide.
Hannah does the opposite. She pushes me away.
And for the first time in years... I don’t know what to do. Apologizing won’t change anything. Words can’t undo what I’ve done. But maybe this dinner can show her how badly I want to make things right.
I carve the meat and add the finishing touches to the salad. It looks good. Smells even better. I carry both dishes into the dining room and set them on the table.
“Dinner’s ready,” I call down the hallway before taking my seat.
Soft music drifts through the house. Old classics. The Beatles. The Beach Boys. A few others. They are doing their best to fill the silence that’s bound to come with our first real interaction in over a week.
One song becomes another.
Hey Jude.
Hotel California.
Good Vibrations.
Then there’s an Elvis song I don’t know. Each one marks another passing minute. The food grows colder. My jaw clenches tighter until my teeth ache.
She’s doing this on purpose. She wants to watch me squirm.
Enough.
I won’t allow it any longer. Whatever hold Hannah has over me... It won’t change who I am. Not any more than I’ve already allowed.
I shove back my chair and stride down the hallway. Music blares from behind her bedroom door. Loud enough to drown me out when I called her for dinner. But that’s no excuse.
I slam my fist against the wood. There’s no way Hannah didn’t hear me this time. Just like every other attempt...
Silence. Fine. If she won’t come out... I’m going in.
The music cuts off. A lock clicks just as I brace myself to kick the door in. I stop and step back. I very nearly lose my balance when the door swings open. My breath catches.
Her blonde hair falls loosely over her shoulders like a waterfall of gold. A long black dress skims every curve of her body before falling gracefully to her ankles, where a pair of simple black heels complete the look.
What holds my attention the longest, however, is the bright-red lipstick coating her mouth. It stands out against her fair skin, making her lips look even fuller and more inviting.
My body stiffens. The sight of her leaves me light-headed and rock hard all at once. My first thought is that Hannah has dressed up for me. That she wants tonight to go as well as I do.
Only then do I notice the clutch purse tucked beneath her arm. The illusion dies with a long, drawn-out groan.
“What?” she almost barks, startling her kitten on the bed.
“Dinner’s ready,” I say, unable to hide the irritation in my voice. “I told you I was cooking.”
She saw me when she came home. She saw the preparation. The table. My intention couldn’t have been clearer.
“I made other plans.”
Short. Sharp. To the point.
“What... plans?”
She steps forward.
I do the same, blocking the doorway.
“To eat.”
“With whom?” I growl.
“A doctor from the hospital. I went back looking for work. He asked me out.”
Every nerve in my body ignites.
“And he’s going to be here any minute.”
Sensing the shift in my mood, Hannah sighs and pushes past me. Lost in my anger, I let her. The click of her heels echoes down the hallway.
Fuck that.
I go after her and catch up just as she steps through the front door. The night air hits me as I follow her outside. She’s already beside a foreign sedan when I reach the porch.
A man climbs out of the driver’s seat. Tall. Clean-cut. Well dressed. His face softens the moment he sees her. In another life, a man like him might have been exactly what Hannah needed. He could’ve offered her stability. Quiet evenings. A family. Everything I can’t.
He smiles at her.
For the first time since Hannah moved in, I understand exactly what I stand to lose. I storm down the front steps and grab her wrist before she has a chance to hug him.
“What the fuck?” the doctor blurts.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes two hurried steps backward, both hands raised.
“Let go of me!” Hannah yanks her arm free. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Hannah, is there a problem here?” the doctor asks before I have a chance to answer.
“Not yet. Open your mouth again and there will be.” I don’t take my eyes off Hannah as I speak.
“Take it easy, pal. We’re just going out for dinner. After everything that’s happened to Hannah, I thought she’d appreciate a nice—”
“One more word.” I raise a finger until it’s barely an inch from his face. “I’ll make you regret it for the rest of your life.”
Wisely, the doctor says nothing.
“Holy shit, Vik, stop this. You’re embarrassing me.” She’s mortified. Her cheeks are even redder than her lipstick as her gaze darts between us.
To hell with embarrassment. She’s tearing me apart. And I’ve had enough.
“Come back inside, Hannah.” Giving orders instead of letting her make her own choice isn’t the right approach.
But standing back while she goes off with another man is a line I refuse to cross.
“No.”
She moves closer to the doctor.
“This is too much, Vik. I need a break.”
I don’t answer. Nothing I say will change what’s happening.
“Let’s get out of here.” She recognizes my silence for what it is and turns it to her advantage.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” the doctor says as he reaches for the driver’s door.
It’s all slipping away from me, isn’t it? My attempts to change came too late, and she’s lost interest. My pursuit of my mother’s killers has cost me more than I ever imagined. It has crushed any hope of love, family and friendship beneath the weight of bringing her justice.
This, however, is the first loss that cuts me to the bone.
I watch Hannah edge around the front of the car, putting distance between us. Her doctor hurries toward the driver’s door, eager to leave before I make good on my threats.
I fucked up. But I’m not giving up.
“Hannah,” I call down the driveway. “I’m trying to make it up to you.”
“You had your chance,” she says. “But you chose to treat me like a glorified sex doll instead.”
The doctor is already inside his car with the door shut. Good. I wouldn’t want him listening while we air our dirty laundry.
“That isn’t what I’m doing.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?” She sounds remarkably calm when I can barely hold myself together. Under different circumstances, I might even admire her.
“You don’t get to decide I’m important when you need me. Or when someone else wants me. Fuck, Vik, you won’t even kiss me.”
Every word lands like a knife. The solution is so painfully simple. Break down the walls. Give Hannah what I’ve denied both of us.
“I never said you weren’t important.”
“You didn’t have to. You’ve shown me time and time again.”
The doctor reaches across and pushes open the passenger door. My pulse surges. She’s about to disappear for the evening with another man. And she expects me to stand here and let it happen.
Something snaps. Almost without thinking, my hand moves behind my back. My fingers brush the cold steel of my Colt. Ever since my meeting with Brian Harris, I’ve carried it everywhere.
Now I wish I hadn’t. But that gun also represents the biggest difference between the doctor and me.
He’s built a career out of saving lives. I’ve built mine taking them.
“Don’t do this, Hannah.” The words leave my mouth before I have time to think.
“Don’t do what?” she fires back.
“Don’t get in that car.”
“I’ll see you later, Vik.”
She slides into the passenger seat. She shakes her head as though I’ve completely lost my mind. Maybe I have.
They look at each other. Their lips move, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. The headlights flare to life. The engine rumbles.
Before the doctor can shift into reverse, I draw my gun. I level it at his chest. I don’t want to pull the trigger. But I can’t let Hannah slip further away.
I stop breathing. They stop moving. The whole world falls silent. As though time itself has frozen.
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck?” Hannah’s muffled voice reaches me through the glass.
It isn’t enough to make me lower the gun. She isn’t leaving with him. She says something to the doctor before throwing open the door.
The moment she steps clear of the car, I lower my weapon. The doctor doesn’t hesitate. Within seconds, his brake lights are disappearing into the darkness.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Hannah screams, paying no attention to the car barreling away down the street. Her voice barely cuts through the pounding in my ears.
“Why do you even have a gun?” She’s terrified.
The tremor in her voice finally forces me to understand what I’ve done. But it’s too late to take any of it back. If the police turn up, I know how to deal with them.
“I can’t lose you, Hannah.” The words leave my mouth as little more than a whisper.
“Why?” She frowns. “All you’ve done is push me away. Hurt me. And now you’re willing to kill someone over something that doesn’t even matter?”
I step toward her. She doesn’t move. Even now... she knows I would never hurt her.
“No, Hannah.” I slide one arm around her waist and the other behind her neck.
“It does matter. You matter.” I rest my forehead against hers.
Her whole body trembles. I search her eyes and hate the fear I see staring back at me. She may never forgive me for this.
I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. But I can’t let another second pass without showing her what I should have from the very beginning.
I draw her gently toward me. Then I close the last few inches between us.
Our lips meet for the first time.