Saving Her: A Dark Mafia Duet

by Eden Summers

  “I planted my foot. I tried to get out of there straight away, but the car wasn’t in gear. So I panicked, and scrambled for the gearstick. That’s when he fired at the glass. By the time I got out of there he’d shot at me four or five times. Twice against the window, a few against the side panels, and at least one in the tire.”

  I wipe my free hand over my mouth, holding in the string of fear-filled aggression. My migraine pulses between my temples. She never should’ve been in that situation. I never should’ve forced her to run.

  “Then what happened?” Torian asks.

  “I kept driving, even when I lost the tire.” Her words accelerate, tumbling faster from those gorgeous lips. “I don’t know where I went, but the patrol car eventually caught up with me and pulled me over. I didn’t know what to do. I’m not even meant to be alive as far as the government are concerned, so when the officer demanded my ID, I asked if he knew Cole Torian, and when he didn’t react I made up a story about being in witness protection.”

  She looks entirely fragile as she relays the story. Fragile yet solid. Vulnerable and strong. Such contrasting facets that make her all the more mesmerizing.

  “You mentioned Anissa, too,” Torian grates.

  “I had no choice. I didn’t want to be arrested.”

  “It’s okay. It’s over now.” I entwine our fingers, trying to offer more support. “Can you tell us anything else about the shooter? What did he look like? What did he say?”

  “He didn’t say anything. Just tapped the gun against the window.” She shudders, her fingers trembling in mine. “He wore a thick, black ski mask. His entire face was covered, and his eyes were shadowed with the headlights beaming behind him. I couldn’t even tell you what color they were because all I wanted to do was get out of there.”

  “Did you get any details on his car?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t see anything. I’d tilted the rear-view mirror away to stop the glare from his headlights. I have absolutely no information at all. Nothing.”

  I meet Torian’s gaze. “What do you want to do?”

  He pushes from his chair. “I’ll put out some feelers. We’ll find who’s responsible. Do you have any requests once I catch the culprit?”

  “Yeah. Let me deal with them.”

  Penny stiffens, but I’m thankful she doesn’t deny my revenge. Nothing will stop me from slaughtering the person who tried to take her life.

  “I can do that.” Torian looms over the table, jutting his chin at our entwined hands. “You might want to keep that under wraps. I don’t feel like disposing of another dead body in the near future.”

  Penny’s hand slips out from beneath mine, the retreat frantic, as I glare at Torian. “Thanks for the tip.”

  He smirks. “I’m nothing if not helpful.” He starts for the hall. “If you remember anything, I want to hear it.”

  I stand and turn to Penny as she rises to her feet. “I’m going to walk him out. Why don’t you take a shower?”

  She nods, her eyes darting from me to Torian who stalks away. “Have I caused a huge mess?”

  “It’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about.” I kiss her quick. Hard. “I won’t be long.”

  I leave her standing there, lengthening my stride to catch up to Torian as he opens the front door and turns to face me.

  “Do you know what you’re doing with her?” he asks.

  “No,” I answer honestly. “I’ve got no fucking clue. The only thing I’m certain of is that I don’t want Decker finding out until she’s ready.”

  “Well, he won’t hear it from me, but you realize it’s written all over your face, right? He’s going to take one look at you two together and know straight away. He probably already does, with the way you chased her into the house.”

  “I’ve got time. I’d only finished telling him I hadn’t laid a hand on her when you pulled into the drive. The way she brutally ignored me when she got out of the car helped, too.”

  “Seemed like a lovers’ tiff to me. But what do I know?” He steps outside, glancing at me over his shoulder. “I’ve got a hundred dollars that says he figures it out next time he sees you, and that he attempts to take your life with your own gun.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I didn’t say he’d succeed.” He keeps walking. “Enjoy the rest of your night. It might be the last you have.”

  Asshole.

  I shut the door, locking it behind him, then make my way back toward Penny’s room.

  She’s in the shower, the water loud through the pipes.

  I decide to do the same, turning off the lights and checking the doors, before I shut myself into the bathroom to wash away the events of the day.

  I need to scrub off the layers of lust she painted over me, the depth of her touch that makes it hard to concentrate on what’s important. All I can think about is that kiss… the way I pinned her against the wall… how she’d only just come home from being fucking shot at.

  She would’ve been filled with adrenaline. Fucking crazed.

  Now there’s a homicidal shooter on the run and I’m standing here with my dick in my hand.

  I’m such an asshole.

  I hope she’s already gone to bed by the time I wrench off the taps. I don’t want to see her again. Not when I know that the second I do, everything will come flooding back—the hunger, the need, the cloying obsession with wanting her to be protected.

  But I’m walking from the adjoining bathroom, a towel around my waist, ruffling the water from my hair with my hand when I notice her in the doorway to my bedroom.

  Just like I predicted, I’m hit with a tidal wave of shit I shouldn’t be thinking, shouldn’t be feeling. It doesn’t help that she’s wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt, the material hanging loose at mid-thigh, her hair damp over one shoulder.

  “How was your shower?” I start for my bedside table and pull open the top drawer to grab a fresh pair of boxers.

  “Good.” She watches me, her attention never straying as she leans against the doorframe.

  “Are you calling it a night? I’m ready to crash like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “I actually hoped to finish our conversation from earlier.”

  Shit. “It can’t wait until morning?” I tug the boxers on underneath my towel. “What else did you want to discuss?”

  I don’t like her in here. In my room. In such close proximity to my bed. She’s too seductive and doesn’t even realize it.

  “I still have questions.” She moves from the doorway, approaching me. “Is that okay?”

  I close the drawer harder than necessary. “What sort of questions?”

  “I want to know if you slept with her.”

  I straighten, my muscles tight as I untangle the towel from my waist. “No. I didn’t have sex with her.”

  “Did you kiss her?”

  My chest tightens, hating these questions, hating even more that her expression is pained while asking them. “No, Pen. I didn’t touch her.”

  She sucks in a breath, standing taller. “Would you have gone through with it if I hadn’t run away?”

  This time, my answer doesn’t come as quick. I don’t want to lie to her. I don’t want to hurt her either. Neither option is favorable. “I don’t know.”

  She winces and glances away, focusing across the other side of the room.

  “I needed to,” I continue. “Didn’t mean I wanted to.”

  “Why?” The question is uttered softly. She’s so fragile and fucking innocent. “Why did you need to?”

  “You know why, shorty.”

  “No, I don’t.” She turns back to me, her brow furrowed. “Is it because you think you’re capable of forcing me? Raping me? Is that why you have to let off steam with someone else?”

  “What? No.”

  Fuck.

  I drop the towel and cross the room to stand in front of her. “I’m fucking scared of manipulating you without even being aw
are of it. Hell, I’ve already done it twice.”

  “How? You’ve never manipulated me.”

  “I did when you kissed me the first time. You were in the middle of a panic attack. It was my job to hold you in check and I fucking failed. I did it again tonight. You would’ve been flying high on adrenaline when you got home. What happened in your bedroom was a mistake.”

  “Don’t say that.” She winces. “Don’t even think it, because it makes me sound weak.”

  “You telling me you’re strong, shorty?” I inch closer, unable to refrain from placing a hand on her waist. “Haven’t we been having this argument for weeks?”

  Her chin hikes up, her eyes narrowing. “I’m strong in some things, smart ass. And you’re one of them. Everything else is static.”

  I chuckle, unsure whether I should be humbled or panicked.

  “You make me feel alive, Luca.” She places a hand on my chest, nestling her body closer. “I want to feel that way more often.”

  Panic was the right option. Pure panic.

  “I’m glad you feel that way.” I step back, well aware any brush of her against my hardening dick will be a bad idea. “But space is a good thing, too. Some pretty crazy shit happened tonight. You need time to let it sink in. You should get to bed and rest on it.”

  She raises a brow. “Which side?”

  “Which side of what?”

  “Your bed. Which side am I sleeping on?”

  Oh, no.

  Oh, hell no.

  “Tap the fucking brakes, shorty, and back up the truck. You’re not sleeping in here.”

  “But I went through some pretty crazy shit tonight,” she mocks me. “I don’t want to sleep on my own.”

  “You’re hilarious.” I walk for the door, hoping she’ll follow. “Come on, get your ass to bed.”

  She looks at me in defeat. “Luc, please. I want to stay here.”

  The way she says my name. The sorrow. The plea. When she wraps her arms around her middle in a blatant show of vulnerability I’m entirely done for.

  Doesn’t she know this is what I’ve battled all along? That this is where I’ve wanted her from the first day we met?

  In my room.

  In my bed.

  “It’s not a good idea.” I strangle the door handle. “Your room is a better option for now.”

  “I know. But this is what I want. I need it, Luc.”

  Fuck. I scrub a hand down my face. “You need what, exactly?”

  “To be near you. To sleep knowing I’m protected. I’m sick of the nightmares.”

  She hits me right where it hurts. One sucker punch after another.

  “Please,” she repeats. “Just for one night to see what it’s like.”

  Once will never be enough. There’ll be no going back after those flood gates open. Surely she knows that.

  I huff out a growl. “Pick the side you want.”

  “Thank you.” She walks around the bed, moving away from the door. “Is this side okay?”

  None of this is okay, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I can’t bring myself to deny her, though. Or myself. This intimacy is a train wreck waiting to happen.

  “Yeah, fine. But you might want to move the gun out from beneath the pillow and stick it under mine.”

  She doesn’t show an ounce of shock as she does as instructed, grabbing the weapon tentatively to slide it across the mattress.

  I wait until she’s settled, her cheek on my pillow, her long hair spread out behind her before I turn off the light.

  I’m not going to get a wink of sleep. Not with her scent on my sheets, her inhales caressing my ears. The hours until sunrise are going to be hell.

  I climb into bed in darkness, sticking to the far side of the king-size mattress. There are still two feet of space between us and I’m acutely aware of each millimeter as she sucks in a deep breath and sighs.

  “Night, shorty.”

  “Night.”

  I stare into inky blackness, completely wired.

  I spend my time forcing myself to figure out how we’re going to nail the guy who shot at her when we’ve got no description to go on. I think about the leverage tonight will give me over helping her step out of her comfort zone tomorrow. But I also struggle not to think about this all ending soon.

  One way or another, this closeness won’t last long.

  For her, this is a phase of recovery. She wants me for my protection. Everything else is curiosity. Once Decker finds out, he’ll put a stop to it.

  Maybe that’s what I need, too—for him to find out so at least someone has the balls to end this mess.

  “Luc?”

  “Yeah?” I mutter.

  “Can you move closer? Just so I know you’re near.”

  Jesus. Fuck. “I swear you were sent from the devil to test me.” I scoot toward her, each inch made with weighty reluctance.

  “No. It’s you who were sent from the heavens to get me through my trauma, and this is something I need help with.”

  To hell with her logic.

  I’m the last person who should be considered heaven sent.

  If only she knew the things I’ve done. The people I’ve killed. And the ones I wanted to slaughter before they got away.

  I stop a few inches from her, resting on my side to watch her darkened silhouette, the warmth from her body seeping into the sheets and surrounding me. But we don’t touch. I make sure of that. I keep an invisible barrier between us, a firm boundary that she proceeds to shatter to pieces when she shuffles closer, nestling into my chest.

  “Relax,” she whispers. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  If only she knew the pounding ache her proximity provides. I hurt everywhere. My legs. My arms. And no place throbs more than my dick. “Get some sleep.”

  She releases a weary sigh, resting her face into my chest. “I’m trying.”

  I feel for her. I always do.

  I wish I could clean away her troubles and make her life effortless. Yet it seems staying here has only caused more problems.

  I could’ve lost her tonight, and that fucking scares me. She could’ve been taken in by the cops. Or murdered. My selfishness almost cost this beautiful woman her life, and I’ll never forgive myself.

  The guilt is brutal, the pound building in my veins. My thoughts try to convince me she’s already gone despite her body being close to mine.

  Slowly, I wrap my arm around her waist, just to hold her. To make sure she’s still whole. Still real.

  I don’t know how I’ll let go of her in the morning. I’ll have to pry my fingers from her soft skin.

  “Luc?” Her voice is barely audible.

  “Yeah, Pen. What’s wrong?”

  “I need you to touch me.”

  I close my eyes and press my lips to her temple. “I am touching you.”

  She sucks in a breath, her exhale ragged. “No. I need you to touch me the way you were going to touch that other woman.”

  16

  Penny

  He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

  He remains rigid beside me, not breathing.

  I pull back to stare into the darkened shadows of his face. “Luca, I need to know that part of me isn’t broken. That I’m still a woman.”

  “Trust me, you’re the most exquisite fucking woman there is.”

  He doesn’t understand. I don’t expect him to. But this is something I want to know. I have to know. I need to determine if the tingles he awakens in me are merely surface deep.

  “Please.” I place my hand on his chest. “Help me with this.”

  “I don’t think I can be that man, Pen. I’m not a good guy.”

  The rejection stings. Really stings.

  “Okay.” I turn onto my back. I’m not going to force him into intimacy he doesn’t want. Manipulating my way into his bed is bad enough.

  “You know I want you.” His voice is bleak through the darkness.

  Yeah, I know. He wants me, just not the
damage that comes with the package. He wants recovered Penny. Mentally stable Penny. “I said it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  I lay in silence, my despair growing teeth.

  He doesn’t shift. I’m not sure if he’s fallen asleep or if he’s waiting for me to retreat to my own bed. I have no idea what he’s thinking at all. I guess it’s better that way.

  “Why me?” he grates. “Why trust me with something this valuable?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Intimacy. It’s…” He doesn’t continue, not in words, but his hand slides beneath the covers, his fingers raking over the top of my shirt to rest on my stomach.

  “The only currency intimacy has with me is pain,” I admit. “I’ve never known anything different. That’s why I asked. I was hoping to wipe the slate clean of the bad memories.”

  “What about before?” His fingertips circle delicate details over my covered abdomen. “There had to be good memories then.”

  “There was nothing before. No steady boyfriend. No casual hookups. There’s only my experience with Luther.”

  His hand pauses, his shock almost palpable through the seconds of thick silence. “You’re a virgin?”

  “I’m far from a virgin, Luc. But before Greece, no, I hadn’t been with—”

  “Greece doesn’t count,” he growls. “That wasn’t sex. That was nothing like sex.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe he’s not the right person despite my body screaming otherwise.

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  He returns to his circle work on my stomach. The gentle sweep of his fingertips is contained to a small space, yet the vibrations filter much farther. I feel the tingles all the way through my chest. Down my legs.

  It’s nice. Welcomed.

  It’s exactly what I asked for, just in diluted detail.

  He traces my belly button. Swirls intricate patterns along my covered waist. The path he travels grows over long minutes of bliss. No words. No bad memories. Just kindness and what I hope is adoration in the delicate sweep of his touch.

  I crave more. So much more I squeeze my legs to soothe the unfamiliar pressure.

  My pulse pounds in my ears. In my throat.