He offered her the cup of coffee with a smile. I didn’t know what he said to her, because the next thing—she shoved the coffee into his chest. I wanted to deal with the prick, but she started to leave.
I couldn’t lose her, so I followed her at a distance.
She traveled up the block, keeping her head down. She stopped at another coffee shop, but paused. The crowd on the street was a little denser than the one on East Main. She finally lifted her head to eye the crowd. She threw her back against the wall and manically rubbed her face.
I could tell by the way her chest erratically moved that she was tachypneic. I stepped closer. She’s going to have a panic attack. Fuck. What do I do now?
She grabbed her head and slipped down to sit on the concrete sidewalk. No one stopped to help her. They stepped over her like she didn’t exist. I paced, feeling…something. Odd, because I’d never felt anything like it. What was it? Panic? Guilt? Fear? No, never fear. Never been scared of anything.
She’d likely pass out. When she did, it would be the perfect time to make my move.
As I waited, my fist balled so strongly, I pinched the nerves in my hands. The waiting game took too damn long.
When she fell unconscious, I came up to her, and scooped her limp body into my arms. She slipped against me, giving me a whiff of her hair. She smelled like…orchids.
I grabbed her hips and flipped her over my shoulder. While stomping the pavement with her slung over my shoulder, I fished my cell out of my back pocket.
“Dr. Brenton?”
“Mrs. Givens. Don’t have a lot of time. Your daughter—I need to know where she lives.”
Couldn’t stop staring at her as she slept in the passenger seat of my rental while on the way to my apartment. Her dark skin is flawless, beautiful. And those lips. I bit my own, because I couldn’t stop imagining biting and sucking on her lips—making her do things to me with those lips.
Felt my cock grow against my thigh and addle my brain. Damn it. Not now. Down, boy. Didn’t help. It began to jerk and drip.
I wanted her. I wanted her very…severely.
I pushed the speed limit, hoping I wouldn’t get caught by the cops. Last thing I needed. If she saw me, it would fuck up everything.
I carried her over my shoulder to the house; it was split in two, and her part was on the right. While her neighbors porch was full of the oddest shit I’d ever seen, her side was bare and could’ve used a good cleaning. The mess irritated me. The chipping paint irritated me more.
I palmed her ass, trying to find her keys, and resisted the urge to really cop a feel. Gently, I swung her down to her feet. She fell forward, leaning against me. Could've sworn I felt her hands grab a hold of my waist. I placed my forearm against the small of her back, and lifted her chin with my free hand. Nope. Still out of it.
I slipped my hand to the back of her head, palming her coarse dark hair, holding her and staring at her.
The magnitude of the situation kicked in, allowing me to think with my grey matter instead of my defrosting heart.
When I reached into her front pockets, she put her arms fully around me, holding me, but kept her eyes closed.
It made me crack a smile. I wanted to hold her for a little bit longer, and I did.
Eventually, she fell limp again and almost fell before I caught her. She must’ve been dreaming.
I propped the door open, kicking it with my foot and scooped her back into my arms.
The place barely had any furniture and was a complete and total fucking mess. My palms itched to do something about it. Didn’t know how the hell she could’ve lived like this.
I walked down the hall, kicking doors open in search of her bedroom. Didn’t want to do what I had to do when I got to her there, but I talked myself out of what I really wanted to do.
Finally found the bedroom. It was the only room with any furniture inside. There was a bare mattress on the floor and nothing else. I gently laid her down. She stirred and her sweater slipped up her arms, exposing her scars. I was fucking paralyzed as I stared at her. God…she’s so fucking beautiful.
I rolled my eyes and adjusted the brim of my baseball cap. Couldn’t believe the things she made me think. She turned me into a dripping wet sap. Forcing myself to snap out of my daze, I glanced around the room. Where the hell were the sheets?
She rolled over, facing away from me and started crying into the mattress. Again, couldn’t tell if she was asleep or awake. With the way she was carrying on, I thought she was awake. I waited to see if I was right. The waiting killed me. Couldn’t point to an emotion to say what hearing her cry did to me—just knew it fucked me up. She made me feel so fucking…lost.
She stilled with her head facing the opposite wall and her back to me. “Unless you’re going to kill me, you can go.”
I stared at her with an open-mouth. I knew it. She’d been awake the whole fucking time. Why didn’t she open her eyes? How long had she been awake? Why wasn’t I getting a thank you, an acknowledgement, or something? Anything to show me that she was grateful. She just laid there, staring at the wall and never turned around. And did…she really just ask me to stay, if I was going to kill her? What the fuck? “Blankets?” I tried to disguise my voice, but came off sounding like a frog.
“It’s my house. I’m the only one who needs to know where things are. Go. You sound sick, and I don’t want to catch whatever you’re sick with. I didn’t see your face, so you don’t have to worry about me filing charges against you for kidnapping and invading my house.”
I opened my mouth to verbally attack her, but something was wrong. I couldn’t…speak. Head screwed by the whole situation, I began to leave.
When I hit the doorway, she quietly said, “I really like your cologne.”
I turned back with a curled lip smile. Noted, my twisted angel, and someday soon you’re going to pay for fucking with me.
I found myself going out of my way for her. Doing shit I would never think of doing for a woman. I went back to the coffee shop and bought her a cup of coffee. I left it on the doorstep, and played a game of ring and ditch to get it to her.
No longer giving a shit if she saw me, I boldly sat on the hood of my rental, parked across the street. She looked down at the coffee and smiled, taking it inside.
That smile. That fucking smile. She knew it was from me.
I slipped back on the hood of the car, feeling like I just took one straight to the head. The chivalry bit didn’t seem like enough. Didn’t know what the hell else to do. Never been good at the good guy game. She made me want to try it on for size.
I ran my hands underneath my baseball cap to fuck up my hair. Couldn’t shake the feeling that I forgot something. I checked my pockets, had my keys, my wallet, and my cell. Why the hell did I feel like I left the biggest part of me inside her house?
In just under an hour, the woman took a shovel, buried Eric alive, and dug up Ethan. And now I’m royally fucked.
I’d play the game, but it would be played my way. When the game ended, if I wanted it to ever end, Diouana wouldn’t know what I did to her. By the time she figured anything out, it would be too late. She’d be completely owned by me. The idea that she’d belong to me someday soon, made me grin.
I picked up my phone.
“Dr. Brenton,” Mrs. Givens answered, and I could’ve sworn she was fucking smiling.
“I’ll do it on one condition. You have to tell her about your health predicament.”
“Are you calling my bluff?”
Fuck. She knew I was going to do it regardless. Time to bring on the sensitivity. “Do it for her. She needs to know. If you’re worried about how she’ll take it, don’t. I’ll be there for her when she needs me the most.”
“Any other terms you’d like to discuss?”
“All right, here’s the deal, Mrs. Givens. I know what you want me to do for you, but I no longer do that. You have my word. I’ll take care of your daughter when you die, and it will be by my terms. No o
ne will hurt her. I’ll make sure of that my way. Do you get me? Or do I have to be specific?”
“I knew you were perfect for her.”
“You have no idea how imperfect I really am. You just gave your daughter to a sordid bastard.”
“You just became hers, did you not?”
Yeah, fucking hook, line, and sinker.
“Will you need help with accommodations? I can’t guarantee the place next door to my residence at present; however, if you want it, in several more months it can be yours.”
The woman had connections. Noted. I wouldn’t need her help. I had connections of my own, but her idea to move next door was a very good one.
“Dr. Brenton?”
“Do…what you can do.”
“When can I expect you?” she asked with a touch of excitement in her voice.
“I have a few loose ends to burn. I’ll be there in less than month.”
“Excellent!”
“You’re a woman of a very different breed, Mrs. Givens.”
“I’ve just given you a chance at the love of your life, have some respect, young man.”
I swallowed the acid she threw down my throat. She had my balls in a sling, and she knew it. “Thank you,” I choked.
“You’re so very welcome, Dr. Brenton. I’ll see you again very soon.”
Author Note
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The Sordid Promise Page 31
