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“Dude, you just choked her out a few hours ago and I stood there, doing nothing.”

Pressing my lips together, I look away. I don’t want to feel bad for what I did. Blake never should have been going through my things. She was acting like a spoiled brat, and it was either choke her or fuck the life out of her. And I doubt Jace or her would want me to fuck her.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” I ask. Jace had just stood there watching. He even stepped out of the way. It doesn’t make sense. He’s been watching over her like a hawk and the moment I see red and nearly want to murder her, he steps out of the way.

“You wouldn’t have hurt her.”

“You don’t know that.” He doesn’t. I barely stopped when my hands were around her neck. I wanted to watch her die.

“Ryker, we’ve known each other for years, I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. You might have been angry with her and thought about killing her, but you know when it’s enough.”

I nod my head, not wanting to argue with him. I usually know when it’s enough, but it was me who stopped. Something in Blake’s eyes, she wanted me to keep choking her. She was only fighting because it was the natural human reaction to do so. But she wanted to die.

“So, what, she’s mad at me and taking it out on you?” I question, still focusing on the door.

“She won’t even look at me, she keeps her hood up when we were working on her finally leaving it off—”

“Have you seen her scars?” I blurt out.

Jace’s head snaps to mine, taken aback from my question. I can’t tell if he’s upset that I know about them, or he just found out about them.

“How…?”

Narrowing my eyes, I tilt my head to the side, as if to say he really needs to know why.

“I’ve seen most, I’m sure there’s some she’s hiding.”

I nod my head, glancing away again.

“I don’t know much about how they got there. The first time I saw, she uh said it was twenty-two men.”

It’s my turn to be surprised, and my head snaps to him. What the fuck does he mean there were twenty-two men?

“Knock it off, I can see it in your eyes,” Jace hisses. I act as if I have no idea what he’s talking about. “It’s why I’ve been so protective of her; she’s been through some shit. And before you start running your mouth about her just being a spoiled mafia princess, I think there is something else going on,” he explains.

I wave for him to continue.

“Her mother put some tracker in her shoulder. Her fucking father had no idea when I showed up to get her. I’m not sure, man. I think there’s something going on, but I don’t think Blake knows about it. I do know that she’s not a fan of her father though. She’s scared of him, and I don’t like it.”

“From what I’ve seen, most daughters are scared of their father.” I shrug.

“Not like this.”

“I mean he’s the Pakhan of the Russian Mafia, what else would you expect? They’re all fishy in my opinion.”

I did my best not to get involved with our clients. Jace was the one who dealt with hiring which of them he wanted. He handled getting paid. I only did the physical side…the messy side of the business.

“Do you always have to be such an asshole?” he growls, throwing himself back against the couch. Sitting on the armrest, I study Jace. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him distraught over a girl. We’ve both had our fair share of women, but this is different. Blake pulls at a certain string in my heart that I had no idea was even there. And I don’t like it. I don’t want part of her, and I surely don’t see myself falling for her trap.

“Just because I don’t kiss at her feet and get on my knees for her, doesn’t make me an asshole,” I snap. I don’t want to deal with the emotions that are trying to claw their way out. Instead, I get to my feet and leave. Jace doesn’t need to know about the waging war in my head and I won’t let him know.

I’m either a stalker or a creep while I stand in the corner watching Blake slip out of Jace’s room. What is my little pet doing? How she hasn’t noticed me is a little unsettling. Either she’s not paying attention to her surroundings, or she knows I’m here. She could be ignoring me. Which makes sense since I choked her until she almost passed out.

I want to do it again. And the longer I’m around her, the more I want to push her. To find that sweet spot that will make her scream. I want to break her into tiny little pieces. To twist and shape her into someone she doesn’t recognize.

Blake opens the fridge, searching around for something when I finally step out of the shadows and into the kitchen. Her back goes rigid, but she holds the fridge door open.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s a little late for little girls to be wandering around. You never know when something might pop out and get you,” I smirk into my mask.