Merciless King (Lawless Kings, #5)

by Sherilee Gray

  I stood there, fucking stunned, holding her so tight I was probably hurting her. But I couldn’t bring myself to let her go.

  “I was so scared,” she said against my chest. “I couldn’t move…I tried, but I couldn’t move.” Her arms squeezed tighter, and she burrowed deeper. “Then I didn’t know who was out here. If it was him, if he was trying to trick me into opening the door…I didn’t know…” A sob broke free and then she was full on crying in my arms.

  We stayed like that for a while.

  Listening to the cops around me, I found out that besides the vandalism, she’d had the day’s takings stolen from the register. If the cash was the goal, why tear the place up?

  Forensics were waiting to do their thing and Connor wanted to take her statement. As much as I didn’t want to let her go, we needed whatever information we could get to catch this guy, so I eased her back, grabbed a chair, and got her to sit down so they could do their jobs. While she talked to Daniels, I stayed close, quickly making a few calls. I organized for Cage, a friend and someone me and the other guys at the agency used a lot, to come and upgrade her security system and install some cameras as well. He was the best in the business and the only person I’d trust to do it right.

  From now on, I wasn’t letting her out of my sight.

  * * *

  London

  “Do you have someone we can call? A family member, a friend, who can be with you tonight?” Detective Daniels asked.

  I felt my face go hot and started fidgeting with the bracelet I wore. “No…I…I’ll be fine.”

  He frowned down at me. “You’re still pretty shaken.”

  I bit my lip to stop it from trembling.

  “Look, this isn’t usual police procedure…” Detective Daniels cleared his throat. “But I don’t think you should be alone. I can take you home, hang around, stay as long as you need…sleep on the couch if you want me to…”

  “I can’t impose on you like that.” I glanced around, looking for Van. I wasn’t sure why. No, that was a lie. Van made me feel safe. I spotted him on his phone, deep in conversation.

  Detective Daniels shook his head. “London, it’s no imposition. Whatever you need.”

  I looked up at him, into his soft brown eyes. He was a nice man and I could admit I was too afraid to be alone right then. I didn’t know why Van was here in my store tonight. But I didn’t want to be a burden to him. He’d made it clear the police should be my first call, not him. I forced down the lump in my throat. “A ride home would be great.”

  I glanced over at Van again. I wanted to at least thank him for coming here, for coming to my rescue again, but then Detective Daniels put his arm around my shoulders and led me away, out to his car. I climbed in, watching Van through the window, tall and strong, moving around inside my store as he talked.

  Maybe I could send him a thank-you note? Would that be acceptable?

  Thank you for talking me out of my back room after I was terrorized by an insane man. If you hadn’t shown up, I probably would have starved to death back there! Yours, London.

  No, not yours—that sounded like I wanted to be his, I thought almost hysterically.

  Perhaps I was going into shock?

  Seemed likely.

  I started shaking.

  We arrived at my apartment. Detective Daniels parked his car, and with his hand on my lower back, led me down the street to my building. We took the elevator, and I felt his eyes on me the whole way. I glanced up at him. He was frowning. There was no missing the concern on his face.

  He took my keys from me when we got to my door and let us in. He did a quick walk through, which was very quick since I lived in a one-bedroom place. It was more than most could afford in the city, but my dad had left me a little money when he died. I’d used it to open my store and make sure I rented an apartment with good security.

  I watched Detective Daniels walk out of my bedroom and hugged myself. How would I ever sleep again? How would I ever leave my apartment again?

  “I’m sorry that you had to do this.”

  “I’m happy to do it, London,” he said and took a step closer. I flinched and stumbled back. Now we were here, alone, my anxiety had climbed all over again.

  He stopped in his tracks, brows lowering.

  “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’m just going to grab a shower.” My skin suddenly felt like it was coated in a layer of grime. I needed to wash off the day, the terror that at that moment felt like a visceral thing.

  “Take your time,” he said. “I’ll just be out here.”

  I rushed into my bedroom and shut myself in the bathroom. Next I tore off my clothes and threw them in the small trash can I kept in there. I’d never be able to wear them again anyway. Turning toward the shower, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I took myself in dispassionately, the only way I could look at myself these days.

  I hadn’t liked looking at myself naked before, but now, even less.

  There were red marks on my pale skin from wrestling on the floor, trying to get away from that man. My right hip and shoulder had bluish bruises already coming up and there was a graze on my elbow.

  My fingers trembled as I slid my hand over my ribs on the left side, over the scar there, dark and ugly. One of five marring my body. I didn’t like to touch them. I hated the way they felt, raised and horrible against the rest of my smooth skin. I shuddered.

  What happened today could have been worse.

  A lot worse.

  I quickly turned away, getting the water in the shower going nice and hot, hotter than usual. I couldn’t seem to warm up. When the temperature was right, I climbed in, tipping my head back under the spray. Closing my eyes, I took steadying breaths as what happened in the shop flashed on replay through my mind.

  I quickly shut those thoughts down and lathered up, scrubbing every inch of my body, shampooing my hair twice, and washing my face until it tingled.

  It was stupid, all in my mind, and scrubbing myself raw wouldn’t change anything or erase what had happened, but it helped. For a short time anyway, it did help.

  I climbed out, quickly dried off, and wrapped the towel around my head while I found something to wear. I pulled on a pair of black tights and a soft oversized blue sweater. My damp hair was too heavy to tie back so I gave it another rub with the towel, dragged a brush through it, and left it down.

  When I walked out, Detective Daniels was sitting on the couch.

  He glanced up at me, his gaze sweeping over my body. “You need anything?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m fine—”

  Someone knocked on the door and I jumped.

  The detective stood, a look of resignation on his face I didn’t understand. He went to the door and checked who it was before he opened it.

  “King,” Daniels said.

  Van walked in, brushing right past him. “Thought I’d find you here,” he said to Daniels, then his gaze found and locked on me, the intensity behind it making me shiver. “Okay?” he asked.

  I nodded, mouth suddenly dry, palms sweaty, heart racing like a startled woodland creature. That’s how I felt around Van. Like I was in the presence of a predator. I equally loved and feared the feeling.

  And why was he even here? What was going on? Honestly, I thought I’d never see him again.

  Van turned back to Detective Daniels. “You can leave now. I’ve got her.”

  His tone was abrupt, forceful, and brooked no argument.

  Daniels scowled.

  And I had the sudden urge to run to my room and close myself in.

  * * *

  Van

  No way would I let her be here on her own, and I sure as hell didn’t want her here with Daniels. When I realized he’d taken her, my damn head had nearly exploded. The guy had seized his chance as soon as my damned back was turned.

  That wasn’t going to fly.

  The way Connor looked at her? Yeah, his interest in her was more than professional.

&n
bsp; Like you’re any better?

  London looked up at me, eyes wide. “I can’t ask you to do that.” She swallowed, her delicate throat working, lips trembling. “I’m fine now. I’ll be okay here on my own.” She smiled, or tried to, and failed completely.

  I ignored her and repeated to a visibly pissed off Connor, “I said I’ve got her.”

  The guy’s gaze fixed on mine for a beat then slid to London, noting like I did that this time she didn’t voice any objections. No—in fact, she looked a little relieved.

  Connor did not look happy, and asshole that I was, it pleased the hell out of me. Finally, when no one said any more, he nodded, and said to her, “I’ll be in touch.”

  London wrapped her arms around herself, looking lost. “Thank you, Detective Daniels, for everything.”

  He dipped his chin, and back stiff, walked to the door. I followed him out, pulling the door behind me.

  “You know what we’re dealing with here?” I asked.

  Connor shook his head. “Going by her statement, what this fucker said to her, we could be looking at a copycat.”

  That threw me. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.” He pinned me with a hard stare. “You need to leave this to us, Van.”

  Like fuck. I didn’t bother answering him or feeding him lies. We both knew nothing would stop me. I turned back to London’s apartment door.

  “Take care of her,” Connor said.

  Who the hell did he think he was? No one could take better care of her than me. And if that was his way of staking some kind of claim over her, he’d have to do a fuck of a lot better than that. I ignored him and went inside.

  London was still standing in the middle of the room. She hadn’t moved an inch, eyes lost, focusing on nothing, hugging herself, and shivering.

  I moved in, pulled off my jacket, and placed it on her shoulders. Deep satisfaction rolled through me at the sight of her smaller body swimming in the thing, of her wearing my clothes. That was unexpected, and I chose to ignore it.

  Her big blue eyes lifted to me, like she’d only just realized I was back in the room. “Van…look, really, you don’t need to do this…”

  “Yeah, I do.” It was as much for me as it was for her.

  She clamped her mouth shut and looked up at me in a way that made my gut ache, and finally gave in.

  I wanted to do it. I wanted to be the one who took care of her, who kept her safe. I didn’t understand why it had to be me, but I needed to be there. So I would be. I couldn’t say that, though, so instead I motioned to the couch. “Why don’t you sit down, sweetheart?”

  I went to her small kitchen and made her a hot cocoa.

  Now that I had her where I wanted her, I didn’t know what the hell to do. I chased down the bad guys for a living, I didn’t deal with their victims. Honestly, I felt pretty fucking useless.

  One thing I did know how to do, though, was keep someone safe, and I would take down anyone who wanted to harm London. That need was all-consuming. I had no choice but to go with it.

  She was still on the couch with my jacket wrapped around her when I handed her the drink. Then I stood there like an idiot, watching as she sipped it.

  I noted that she’d showered and changed. Her hair was still damp, the ends curling up, the thick strands getting wavier as it dried. Instead of the dress she’d been wearing, she had on tights that accentuated her lush figure and a soft-looking blue sweater that made her eyes look even bluer. Her feet were bare and tucked up under her, and her toenails were painted pink.

  London had delicate feet and hands, dainty wrists and ankles.

  The woman was incredibly beautiful.

  I wanted to pull her onto my lap, all soft and sweet, and breathe her in. I inwardly frowned at my thoughts. If I wanted a woman in my bed, I thought about fucking her, not holding her, not cuddling her close, and definitely not breathing in her sweet scent.

  “You want me to call anyone?” I asked her. She’d told Daniels back at the store she had no one, and I knew from two years ago that was the truth. But it had been a while since then. “A friend…boyfriend?” I tried and failed to keep the growl out of my voice when I said the last.

  She shook her head and took another sip of her cocoa. After putting the mug on the coffee table in front of her, she looked up at me. “How did you…I mean, why were you at my store tonight?”

  “Daniels. I was with Connor when he got the call about your shop. I was worried.”

  Her lashes lowered, thick, dark crescents resting on her cheeks. She looked tired. “Thank you,” she said, then stood, wincing a little as she moved toward me, round hips swinging as she walked. She slipped the jacket off her shoulders and handed it to me. Her sweater was soft and it clung to her curves. It was also low at the front and I couldn’t help but eat up that peek of her pale flawless skin. I wanted to drag my nose along it, breathing her in as I went, right up to that soft, warm spot below her ear.

  I took my jacket back and noticed a small cut on the side of her finger. Something about that had my gut in knots. It added to her vulnerability and cranked up my protective instincts. “Where else are you hurt?” I said.

  “Pardon?”

  “You winced when you stood. You’re hurt.” I’d been making calls while she gave her statement and I’d missed most of it.

  “I…fell when he tried to grab me and we…” She swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet room. “We wrestled on the ground for a bit before I managed to get away and lock myself in the back room. It’s just a few bruises.”

  I had to bite back the rage building inside me. No, this was definitely not some random robbery. The fucker had tried to hurt her. If this really was a copycat, some fucked-in-the-head Coombs disciple, London was in serious danger.

  “Thanks for everything you did tonight,” she said. “I guess I froze earlier…then I heard your voice, and—well, I didn’t know who to trust, and then you…” She shook her head. “Anyway. Thanks for coming.”

  She trusted me.

  Jesus.

  I was the last person she should trust.

  If she had any idea what I wanted to do to her, she’d run a mile. My thoughts where she was concerned were far from innocent.

  Still, my need to protect her shot even higher. She was scared out of her mind and trying to hide it. And yeah, the more I thought about it, the more I thought Daniels was right. Something about tonight had set off every one of my alarm bells. I wanted to question her further. I’d only heard the beginning of what she’d told him, what the fucker terrorizing her had said to her. I didn’t want to scare her more, but she wasn’t safe. Not here and not on her own.

  “Baby, you look tired,” I said instead, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut and not ask all the questions flying around my head. I intended to get a copy of her statement tomorrow, though. “Why don’t you go to bed, get some sleep?”

  “I am pretty tired.”

  The pulse at the base of her throat was fluttering madly. There was no way she’d sleep if I left her. Which I wasn’t going to. Just the thought had my gut coiling, tightening with fear.

  “Thanks again for helping me out.” She stared at me for several seconds. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

  “I’m not going,” I said.

  London was so damn sweet. She was also fucking impossible to read. I had no idea what she was thinking right then, what was going on in her head, and I hated it. Hated knowing there were parts of her I would never see. Irrational, but true.

  Again, my thoughts and feelings where this woman was concerned confused the hell out of me.

  “You’re…not?” she said, brow scrunched.

  “No.”

  “But…um…”

  “We’ll talk about what happens next in the morning.”

  Her throat worked again, but she didn’t argue and that said it all. Even after sending her away when she came to me for help, after being a prick and not believing her, she’d rather have me here than be al
one.

  She dipped her chin, lowering her eyes, like she often did. Her hair was resting over her shoulder and I reached out before I could stop myself and touched it, sliding a thick wave of the silky strands between my fingers.

  Her eyes shot up to mine.

  “You can rest,” I said, voice like gravel. “You’re safe now. I’m not going anywhere.”

  We stood there like that for several long seconds, with no one saying a thing. It was hard, but I finally let her hair slide free.

  She turned away as soon as I did and rushed for her room.

  And I got comfortable on the couch.

  4

  London

  I stood at my bedroom door and listened to the dull thud of Van’s boots hitting the carpet as he walked around my living room. I squeezed my eyes closed. Yesterday hadn’t just been some awful nightmare, and Van was still here. In my apartment. After sleeping on my couch.

  I tried to control my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I had to go out there, I had to face him this morning. Alone. Like try and talk in full sentences to the man, when talking to people was already hard for me. But Van wasn’t just people, he was the man who’d saved my life, the man who’d stayed until I had recovered. The man who had come to my rescue again yesterday.

  What did you say to someone who had done that for you?

  My heart started to pound harder, my skin heating, my palms getting sweaty.

  Pull it together, London.

  I glanced down at myself. Jeans and a pink sweater that was soft, slightly fitted, and had a neckline that came down in a deep V, showing the white tank I wore underneath. Casual but smart. I’d had a quick shower and had made an attempt to look presentable, which always made me feel a little more in control. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, though a few wisps had escaped. But then my hair couldn’t be tamed, so I’d come to terms with it never being perfect. I had on a little light makeup, just some mascara and a little blush since I’d been so pale when I looked in the mirror.