Though, he doesn’t look like he wants me. Not at the moment. He looks angry.
“God, Bianca. You really can’t believe anyone wants to help you? To be with you?”
I flinch because he’s right.
He pulls me to the sofa. “Baby, you’re an incredible woman. Strong. Smart. Obviously gorgeous. Any man would trip over his dick trying to be with you.” He makes a face. “I should have said that better.”
I smile, feeling shy. “I think you said it pretty great.”
He sighs. “I hate that you doubt yourself, that you won’t let yourself trust me.”
A knot tightens my throat. “I do trust you.”
As much as I trust anyone, which admittedly isn’t much.
His eyes study mine. “When I first met you, I wanted to be with you. And the way you looked at me, it seemed like you wanted me too.”
“I did.” At his wry expression, I laugh a little. How can he make me laugh, even now? “I
do
want you.”
“But every time I got close, you backed away. At first I was going to respect that. No matter that you looked at me like you wanted to touch me, no matter that I was dying to taste you.”
My eyebrows go up. “I was a little surprised that you…you know. Did that. While I was tied up.”
He gets a strange expression, and I have the feeling that if I touched his cheeks they would be warm. He’s blushing. “Then I saw you struggling and refusing help from anyone—not from me or the other girls. You were getting thinner, and I could see the fear in your eyes. Then you went and tried to steal from the Grand—”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“I’m not angry, baby. I’m just explaining why I couldn’t hold back any more. I couldn’t watch you destroy yourself. I came to care about you, despite you pushing me away, despite my best efforts not to care, and I couldn’t let anyone hurt you—not even yourself.”
I shiver. “And not my parents.”
“Definitely not them.” His expression turns cold, and I realize this is the face of the soldier, the man who fought multiple tours overseas. This is what his enemies saw. “They should have protected you.”
“I’m not going to defend them. I spent too long giving them excuses.”
“You don’t ever need to see them again.” The way he says it, I can almost believe it’s true.
I look down at my loose T-shirt and shorts rolled up at the waistband. I feel even more helpless without my clothes. That’s just an illusion, though. I was already as helpless as possible, whether I’m wearing flip-flops or stilettos or nothing at all. “What about me?”
He looks down, seeming almost vulnerable. “I hope you’ll stay with me.” He pauses. “At least until the New Year. We don’t have to decide anything right away, and you’ll be safe here. I’ll have Blue send someone to bring your clothes.”
It can’t be that simple. “What about Ivan?”
“What about him?”
“Umm, I broke into his club.”
“Only because we let you.” West smiles a little at my glare. Then he sobers. “Ivan doesn’t have to know.”
“He might find out. You’d lose your job.” I don’t add that he would more likely lose his life.
A fierce light enters his eyes. “I’ll protect you from anyone, Bianca. And I’ll just need to keep saying it until you believe me. If Ivan came after you, I’d keep you safe. If anyone even thinks about touching you, I’d make them wish they were never born.”
There he is again, the warrior. It makes me shiver. “Okay,” I whisper.
“Good.” He smiles, looking almost normal. Like a hot guy you’d meet at a coffee shop—not terrifying and intense. Not like he’s going to battle the world just to keep me alive. “Now come have breakfast. Do you want omelets or pancakes? Wait, what am I saying? I’ll make both.”
B
reakfast is just
the beginning, and I spend the rest of the day cocooned in a warmth I’ve only dreamed about. I find a box of microwave popcorn in the pantry, and West pulls out a needle and thread from an impressive first-aid kit. We create edible garland that we string up around his loft, adding a bit of festive charm to the stark space.
His expression is so focused as he pushes the needle through the puffy kernels, as if he’s on the battlefield, as if it’s a question of life or death. So I can’t help but toss a kernel at him, which bounces off his broad and impressively solid chest.
He looks up, first in surprise, then in mischievous delight—he retaliates with a hail of popcorn fire.
Then the bowl is empty, and I’m flat on the rug, laughing, popcorn in my hair. I’m a disaster, but he looks down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
It’s strange and rare, and I would give anything to stay like this forever.
Even now, in pure bliss, there’s a frantic edge, an undertone of dread, because it will never be enough.
His phone chimes, and I feel him tense above me. He backs off me, and I immediately miss the safety of his arms, the surety of his weight. His body moves stiffly as he crosses the room to check the text message, as if whatever’s happening pains him. Or worries him.
What could worry a man as strong and sure as this one?
“What’s wrong?” I ask softly.
He looks at me, and a shadow crosses his face. I know he feels the loss of intimacy, of warmth as much as I do. “We think your parents skipped town.”
“Oh.” The thought makes my stomach clench, even though I don’t want to see them again. Abandonment never really gets easier. It’s just less of a surprise.
He pauses, his expression guarded. “We found the motel room they’d been renting. It had some schematics of the Grand and other items that identify them.”
Guilt and shame war within me. I’m embarrassed that I ever tried to rob the club. I’m glad we failed. The Grand was never really at risk anyway. We only got that far inside because West had been setting a trap.
I fold my arms across myself. “Maybe you could just… let them go. They didn’t take anything.”
His expression is dark. “That’s not the problem.”
Realization dawns. “The money. Fifty thousand dollars. That’s what they told me Jeb owed the Caivano family. Maisie said…she said they were holding him hostage until they got their money.”
“The Caivano family doesn’t take hostages.”
“No,” I agree quietly. If I had been thinking straight I might have realized that. The Caivano family isn’t known for their patience. Or their mercy. They would have killed Jeb if they could have gotten their hands on him. “Maisie showed me his ring as proof that he was taken. I was so worried.”
My voice cracks on the last word. It makes my stomach turn over to think about them planning to con me—about him giving her his ring just to make sure I went through with the job. I’m a fool for ever worrying about him.
For ever loving him, even if he is my father.
Anger flashes through West’s eyes. “With them gone…”
With them gone, the Caivanos will be out for blood. And I’m the only one left. “So I’m in trouble,” I say, trying to sound light.
I want him to tell me I’m wrong. I want him to tell me I’m safe.
“Your apartment was searched,” he says instead.
My stomach turns over as I imagine my crappy apartment in tatters. There wasn’t much there—my clothes and some old pictures. Piles of yarn that I mostly unravel from antique clothing I find at garage sales.
My throat feels tight. “I guess it was always going to end like this.”
West’s expression is fierce. “No one will touch you.”
I shake my head while he’s speaking, because he can’t protect me forever. “Don’t worry about me.” My voice rings false. “I’ve looked after myself this long.”
“You’ll stay here,” he says. “We’re looking for your parents, and Blue has contacts with the Caivano family to see if we can work something out. I’m looking after you now.”
Even the conviction in his words can’t comfort me now.
Panic has been steadily building. I feel violated. I feel terrified.
I want more popcorn and more wrestling. I want more of that foreign, bursting feeling inside my chest. Stolen moments before I have to return the wreckage of my own life. So I nod in silence.
His arm tightens around me. He says nothing either.
There are no promises made, no lies I can pretend to believe. As soon as this interlude is over, I’ll be back on the street—penniless and, after my apartment was sacked, homeless. The people looking for me will find me then.
F
or that day
and the next we exist in a bubble full of great food and great sex. By tacit agreement we both avoid talking about my parents or Ivan or anything too sharp.
When I sit down for dinner a few days later, I know the bubble has burst.
The food looks amazing—steaks and a crisp, green asparagus. There’s a small chocolate cake waiting to be cut into. A hidden stereo system streams the “Christmas Canon.” It’s almost a celebration, but I’m not fooled. There’s something simmering beneath the surface.
It feels more like a last meal.
“What’s wrong?” I ask West’s back. He hasn’t turned from the salad he’s tossing even though I know he senses me here. He always seems to know where I am.
When he turns, I see the truth in his expression. It’s time for me to leave. “I have to go out,” he says instead. And I’m surprised but not relieved—I feel the end drawing near.
“Did something happen?” What I mean is,
Did you find Jeb and Maisie?
It’s kind of sick that I hope they won’t be found. If they are found by the Caivano family, they’ll be killed. But if they aren’t found, I’ll have to answer for their debt.
West looks grim. “I won’t know until I see for myself.”
“Can I come with you?” I’m afraid at what we might find at this mystery destination, but this is my mess. My problem. I got him into this, it’s only fair I be there with him.
He shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous. I’d rather you stay here.”
Dangerous.
It is dangerous for me here, but not for the reasons he thinks. It’s dangerous to feel acceptance, to feel love. It’s dangerous for someone like me to hope. “You’d be with me.”
“I don’t know what I’ll find there. Here there’s a security system and a dead bolt. And a pistol in that drawer.” He nods to the corner. “This is the safest place you can be.”
I can’t help the relief I feel. I don’t want to see Jeb or Maisie if they’re hurt. And I definitely don’t want to see them if they’re alive. There’s a part of me that doesn’t even trust myself. That if I see them, I’ll fall prey to whatever con they try to run, to whatever lies they tell. The desire to have parents who care runs deep, an ache that will never really go away.
It’s like a stay of execution. I’ll have to leave eventually, but not now. Not yet.
“You’ll be careful,” I implore softly. If it could be dangerous for me, it could be dangerous for him. I know how skilled he is, but Jeb has gotten himself in deep. I’ve gotten in deep too.
He nods, looking more determined than worried, my knight in shining armor.
And I’ll be alone in the castle tower.
“After dinner?” I ask, my voice small.
He seems relieved too, that I didn’t put up a fight. He must not realize how desperately I want to stay here, how much I’ve come to love this place—and him. He gives me a kiss on the forehead before sitting beside me. “After dinner.”
I want to believe I have a future with West, that he’ll be safe, that I will too. But the past has its hooks in me too deep. I’m no princess.
I don’t deserve a fairy-tale ending.
T
here’s not much
to do in West’s apartment—except snoop. I’m curious about him, but it turns out I don’t want to find out anything he doesn’t want me to know. He trusted me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I’ll make sure he can trust me now.
I spot my faded leather bag tucked into a corner by the sofa. For a second, I wonder if that could be what the men are after. But there’s nothing but old tools that any lock pick would have.
And yarn.
I pull out the dark red yarn, already half-formed into a hat. Actually, it would make a lovely Christmas gift for West—and I wonder if I’d been subconsciously making it for him all along. The rich color would look beautiful against his dark skin.
Then I think about the soft strands wrapped
around
him, like tied around his wrists, and I realize I can make something else with this yarn. It only takes a few minutes to undo the work I’ve done so far, and then I start on something better, something darker—a thick braided rope.
When it’s finished it will still be soft, but it will also be strong.
I’m deep in my work, fingers working nimbly when I hear the knock. I freeze.
Carefully, as if it might break, I set the needles and yarn down on a table. My heart pounds when I spot Jeb through the peephole. I don’t open the door.
He knows I’m there anyway. “Bee? Open up, sweetheart.”
I dial West on the mobile phone he gave me, but there’s no answer. I text him,
Jeb is here.
I’m protected against someone storming the castle walls. What West didn’t count on is that Jeb wouldn’t try to hide. What West didn’t count on is that my own heart would want to betray him, a little girl who’s overjoyed that her daddy didn’t leave her after all.
He’ll have a good reason for what happened, my heart says. He’ll fix everything.
My heart lies.
I turn away from the door, turn away from him, but I’m still just two feet away. Close enough to hear what he has to say. I can’t deny that I’m curious. He’s my father. Shouldn’t he love me? Shouldn’t he care? Except he doesn’t, not if he put my life at risk.
“I know what happened at the club,” he continues, speaking a little louder than normal to be heard through the door. It makes me wonder if West’s neighbors can hear him, but I doubt it. These old buildings were built to withstand anything. “I’ll get you out of there.”
The way he says it, it’s as if he’s trying to rescue me. Instead it sounds like a threat.
A laugh escapes me that sounds more like a sob. I don’t think he could hear that through the door, but it doesn’t really matter. He’d rather hear himself talk than me anyway.