by Darcy Rose
Just then, a waiter appears carrying a tray of drinks. I notice how his hand shakes as he sets down the glasses in front of each person. When he gets to me and realizes he is missing something, his eyes go wide as saucers.
“I’ll have a water, please,” I tell him with a reassuring smile.
“And she’ll have the lasagna to eat,” Cash cuts in.
“Of course, I’ll add it to the order right away, and I’ll be back with your water in a minute, miss.” The poor guy scurries away like he is scared to be eaten alive. Truthfully, so am I.
“So, Payton, what do you do besides dancing?” Kane asks casually.
“I’m a preschool teacher,” I explain, instantly feeling a pang of guilt. I shouldn’t tell them where I work, what if they follow me to school?
“That’s nice. I can see you doing that.” Cash nods.
Normally, this would be the time to ask them what they do for work, but I have the distinct feeling that I don’t want to know.
The waiter returns with my water and sets it in front of me. I down half the glass with a few sips. Only when I put the glass back down, do I notice my hand shaking as well.
“Are you cold?” Kane asks while snaking his hand around my back, leaving it sprawled out between my shoulder blades.
“I’m fine.” I shake my head and glance over to Madison. She gives me a bright smile, leaving me confused as hell. Does she not see how uncomfortable I am, or does she just not care?
I don’t know Madison that well, but I always thought she was very kind and nice to talk to. I’m completely flabbergasted by seeing her like this with these men. How can someone so sweet be comfortable around guys like this?
“Are you from here?” Archer asks, but unlike his brothers’ questions, his sounds more like an interrogation than small talk.
“Yes, born and raised.”
“Do you live alone?” His follow-up question has my stomach churning. What an odd thing to say.
“Um, yeah… but like in an apartment. We have great security,” I add like the idiot I am.
Archer must find my answer amusing based on the grin tugging at his lips. Madison giggles beside him.
“Stop grilling her.” Madison digs her elbow into Archer’s side. “She is just a friend from ballet class, I promise.”
Archer assesses me for another moment, surveying me with his gaze, almost as if I am the one who is a threat to him. I nearly laugh at the thought. The possibility that little ol’ me could pose any kind of threat to a guy like him is absurd.
“So, Payton,” Cash pulls my attention back to him. “Do you like your job?”
“I love my job. Working with kids was my dream.” It’s only half a lie. I did always want to work with children, but my real hope was to become an actual elementary school teacher. I wanted to go to college and study early childhood education but thanks to my mom, none of that ever happened.
Luckily, you don’t need a degree to work at the preschool. My babysitting experience was enough to get me hired, and they trained me to do the rest. I don’t get paid much less than a kindergarten teacher starting out. The difference is that I don’t get any benefit, and my career can never go any further than where I am right now.
“What else do you do for fun besides being a ballerina?” Kane turns his body toward me a little more. I’m extremely aware of how close he is now. All his attention is on me, which only intimidates me more.
I would scoot away, but there is nowhere else to go besides his brother’s lap. So I simply squeeze my shoulder together in an effort to make myself as small as I can.
“Um, fun? Dancing is pretty much it. I work during the week and sometimes babysit on the weekends.” My rambling is cut short by two waiters bringing out steaming plates of food.
A large piece of lasagna is placed in front of me, and the savory smells of tomatoes and spices make my mouth water in appreciation.
Without paying my surroundings much attention, I pick up my fork and dig in. God, Cash was right, this is the best lasagna ever. Or maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten all day. Either way, this is freaking delicious.
“Do you want some more?” Kane chuckles next to me. Only then do I realize I wolfed down every last bit of my food before anyone else at the table.
“Oh, no. Thank you. I’m done,” I say around the last bite in my mouth.
“Just dessert then.” Cash smiles.
I’m about to decline that as well, but he is already waving the waiter over to order some tiramisu.
Shortly after, my empty plate is replaced with a new one. I force myself to eat the dessert slower, so I don’t look like a total pig.
Not long after I finish the most delicious tiramisu I’ve ever eaten, Cash rubs my back again, making me sit up straighter. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I can just get an Uber.”
“But you won’t because we’re taking you home,” Kane tells me like I don’t have a choice in the matter. I gulp and glance over at Madison, who nods and smiles, almost as if she is happy that they are taking me home. What is wrong with her?
We say our awkward goodbyes to Madison and Archer before I’m ushered out of the restaurant rather quickly.
The hostess, who greeted us on the way in, runs to the door to hold it open for us. “Have a great day, Mr. Hale,” she tells Cash, who tightens his grip on my arm.
It’s not until I am sitting in the back of the car that the name has sunk into my brain. Hale. I’ve heard about the Hale Family. Oh god.
I suck in a shuddering breath as Cash slides into the seat beside me.
I’ve read stories about the Hale family in the papers, and none of them were good. The puzzle pieces slowly come together as I review dinner. The way they looked, acted, and how afraid people were of them. It’s because these guys are part of the mob. No, not part of it; they are the mob.
“Where do you live?” Kane asks from the front seat.
I blink slowly. I can’t tell them where I live.
I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even fight back when Cash snatches my bag from my lap and digs through it.
“Hey,” I half-heartedly object.
Cash pulls my wallet from my bag and flips it open to read the address on my driver’s license. “Pleasant View Apartments,” he tells his brother before putting everything back in place and handing me my purse.
Great, now they know where to find me.
A few minutes later, we pull up to my apartment complex. The pit in my stomach has only grown with each mile. That pit reaches new depths when Kane cuts the engine, and both guys get out of the car.
Shit, they want to come in.
“Don’t look so scared, tiny dancer. We’re just walking you in,” Cash assures me, but I won’t fall for his charm.
You know who is charming? Serial killers.
On weak legs, I let them walk me all the way to my door. My mouth is dry, and my heart is racing when we stop so I can dig out my keys. My bag is not that large, but right now, it seems like an endless space with a million items in it. I can’t find my fucking keys.
“Here, let me,” Cash offers, already taking it out of my hands. He, of course, finds the key with ease, then opens the door into my apartment.
We step into my sparse living room, my knees threatening to give out any moment now. I turn to look at the two men who make my apartment seem smaller with their presence.
Standing so close to them reminds me how tall they are. I literally have to tip my face to look at their eyes.
Both of them are scanning the room like they expect someone to jump out of the corner any minute now.
“You live here on your own?” Cash asks.
“Mmhh.” I nod, not getting a word past my lips.
“All right… well, call us if you ever need anything, and I mean anything.” Cash finally turns his gaze back to me. “I saved my number to your phone earlier.”
Huh? When did that happen?
“Yes, call u
s if you need anything… or if you just want us to come over.” Kane smirks suggestively.
And with that, they turn around and leave, shutting the door behind them gently.
What. The. Fuck?
I stand there for at least ten minutes, wondering if today even happened at all or if I’m about to wake up from the weirdest dream ever.
One thing is clear. There is no way I will ever call them.
4
Kane
You call it an obsession. I call it mere curiosity. I like to know how things tick, how a person works, and after meeting Payton, I have to admit she’s got me more than curious.
My insides are a tangled mess, and I have to know more about her, know if it’s possible to trust her, which is why I’m currently sitting outside her apartment, contemplating if I should go back inside. I’ve already done one sweep while she was at work, but I know she is inside now, probably sleeping.
I stare at the brick building she claimed yesterday had great security. One look at the place was all it took to realize it’s nothing but a dumpster fire. It took me less than a minute to break into the building, and I’m surprised no one has attacked her in her apartment yet with that flimsy lock on the door. I could have snapped the security chain with a pair of kid’s scissors.
I don’t understand why that bothered me so much either. Who cares if she is safe where she lives? It shouldn’t matter to me, yet, here I am, thinking about buying her a better lock.
The thought in itself is insane. We just met this chick, she clearly doesn’t like us or pretends not to, but maybe that only adds to the appeal. Most women throw themselves at us, knowing we have money and power, not to mention we’re not bad looking either. Payton doesn’t seem to care about any of that. Or maybe she just has a higher survival instinct than most because the truth is, being associated with us is always a danger, for them and for us.
To let an outsider into our lives is a risk, but I know Cash more than anyone else in the world, and I can tell he’s more than interested in Payton. I, on the other hand, don’t let my feelings lead. I’m definitely more of the cautionary one of the two of us.
I’m interested but not enough to put everything in jeopardy. Which leads me to the conclusion to put the car in drive and leave. I should go and not come back here.
I should.
But instead, I make the choice to break into her apartment. Fuck.
The street is quiet as I step out of the car. My feet make no noise as I walk across the street to the entrance of her apartment. My pulse speeds up, excitement filling my veins as I make my way back into the building.
Just like earlier, neither door poses a problem. I pick the locks even quicker this time, knowing exactly which angle to hold the lockpick.
My heart beats furiously as I gently open the door to her apartment, keeping the noise to a minimum. The space is draped in darkness and silence. Her flowery scent lingers in the air and fills my lungs, making my dick twitch.
I close the door quietly behind me before adjusting the growing rod between my legs. Maybe I just need to fuck this girl and get it out of my system.
With that thought in mind, I move through her small apartment into her tiny bedroom at the end of the hall. I shake my head when I find the door wide open, leaving no other barrier between her and me. Not that another door would have stopped me from coming in.
Quietly, I walk toward the bed. The only light filling the room is the dim one coming from the streetlight outside, but it’s enough to make out her sprawled body. A thin blanket covers her, letting me see the outline of her slender figure. Her hair is a wild mess, going in every direction across the pillow.
Her face is relaxed, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes move under her eyelids as if she is dreaming. I don’t know how long I watch her sleep, only that it’s not enough. I have to touch her. I want to feel her skin, run my fingers through her hair, and find out if she tastes as good as she looks.
It’s a terrible idea, but I can’t help myself. Carefully, I sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping down so much that it makes her roll toward me slightly.
She starts to murmur something in her sleep just as I reach out to touch her face. My fingers freeze, hovering less than an inch from her skin. A string of incoherent words falls from her lips before she burrows herself deeper into her pillow.
Letting my hand move on its own, I run the tip of my fingers over her cheek. Her skin is even softer than I imagined. It’s so delicate and silky; all I want to do is climb into bed with her and wrap her in my arms. I want to feel every inch of her body. Rub my roughness onto her softness.
I run the pad of my thumb over her plump lips, and her eyes flutter open.
I freeze. Leaving my hand just where it is, I stare at her, expecting a high-pitched scream any moment now, but it never comes.
Then I realize how unfocused her eyes are. Her chest is rising and falling evenly. She starts to stir, trying to push my hand away in a sleepy manner, but I grab her hand and guide it back down.
“Shhh, it’s just a dream. You’re safe,” I say softly. Even as the words leave my lips, I can’t believe that this is actually working. “Go back to sleep. Everything is fine.”
“Mmmhh,” she moans and closes her eyes again. My dick stands at attention at the sweet sound.
I cradle her face, and she leans into my touch before grabbing the blanket and tucking it tighter to her body. Leaning down, I place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“Goodnight, Payton.”
All I want to do is crawl into this bed with her and tear that blanket from her body, but I force myself to stand up instead. One more glance at the perfect angel in front of me, and I finally turn away to leave.
Damnit, this girl has gotten under my skin. I’m just not sure yet if I like her there or not.
5
Payton
My feet ache as I make my way out of the school building and to the faculty parking lot. I normally don’t stay until it’s dark, but today we rearranged the classroom and organized the craft closet while we were at it.
It’s not like anyone is waiting for me at home, which reminds me about not having anyone to prepare dinner either. I guess I’ll eat a bowl of ramen noodles. Or maybe I’ll just fall into bed and sleep since I slept so terribly last night. After tossing and turning forever, I finally took some melatonin to knock myself out. Even that didn’t help the way I’d hoped, and I ended up having a weird dream that one of the twins was in my room.
Usually, this would be a night I’d go to dance class, but since that Matthew incident last week, I haven’t gone back. I don’t plan on going back either. I won’t let him bully me into sleeping with him. He can be thankful I didn’t go to the cops. I hate Matthew for what he did to me, but I despise the justice system even more.
Since Sally was picked up by her husband, my car is the only one remaining in the parking lot. An eerie feeling creeps up my spine, but I shove it back down.
A gust of wind blows into my jacket, and I pick up my pace to get to my car quicker. The low thuds of my footsteps is the only sound floating through the brisk air… until it’s not.
A second pair of footfalls meets my ear, and I spin around to see where it is coming from.
“Hello, my little slut,” Matthew sneers. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I don’t answer. I don’t think. I just run.
As fast as my feet carry me, I sprint to my car. Thanking the universe that I walked out with my keys in my hand, I unlock the door and get into my car.
I barely get the door shut and locked before Matthew catches up with me. He bangs his fist against the glass so furiously I think he might actually break it.
With trembling fingers, I miss the ignition with my keys three times. Shaken to the core, a sob rips from my chest when I’m finally able to slide it in. The engine roars to life, and I put the car in reverse.
The tires squeal as I back out of the parking spot, and the loud
banging against my window finally seizes. Swinging my steering wheel around, I angle the car out, then try to switch gears to drive.
I yank on the stupid stick, but the fucking thing gets stuck. Cursing, I pull on it with both hands until it finally slips into gear, then I hit the gas before I even look up.
Everything happens so fast. I don’t even have time to get my foot off the pedal. Somehow, Matthew has made it around to the front of my car. His wide, fearful eyes are the last thing I see before I strike him down with my car. His body flies up onto my windshield, cracking the glass with a loud smash.
A blood-curdling scream rips from my throat, and I finally move my foot from the gas and stomp on the breaks, but it’s already too late. The car skids to a halt, catapulting my body into the steering wheel with brutal force, knocking the air out of me. My forehead connects with the corner of the dash, and pain erupts across my skull.
With a pained groan, I cut the engine, leaving nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing to fill the cab.
Frantically, I look around the car, not even sure what I am looking for. My thoughts are all over the place, and I have no idea what to do. I should probably get out of the car and check on Matthew, but I’m too scared.
That’s when I check the review mirror.
No, no, no.
All the blood in my veins freezes when I take in Matthew’s lifeless body on the ground. Oh my god. Did I? I stare into the reflection for a few more minutes, willing him to move.
Come on. Get up.
The longer I stare at his unmoving form, the larger the hole beneath me—threatening to pull me under— grows.
Shit, I killed him.
Another minute passes before I can bring myself to find my phone. I unlock the screen and start to dial nine-one-one.
My finger hovers over the second one, but I can’t bring myself to press down. Memories of countless interrogations, court dates, and threats. Months of community services and being treated like a criminal all come rushing back to me.
