Page 11

Ingrid

Jade glances around and the little petals in her hair drop as she does so. She looks like a Greek goddess dressed in an exquisite gown reminiscent of Aphrodite herself. The color is a delicate blush like a pale rose, with flowing fabric that drapes and shimmers around her as she moves.

When she told me about the theme she was going for, I styled her hair in loose waves and used golden accents along with tiny blossoms I wove throughout to add a touch of nature.

The delicate gold necklace with a heart-shaped pendant was a gift from her mother, and the entire ensemble highlights her grace.

A true history major, I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.

Her fiancé Saint is going to swallow his tongue when he finally sees her. I can already tell she’ll be in for a long night.

“What are you looking for?” I finally ask, amused. I pick up the petals falling from her hair, and I find myself smiling.

“He's supposed to be here,” she mutters to herself before beckoning to someone. “Hey, Kyle?”

I turn to see the frizzy-haired kid who’d stopped me that first day walk up to Jade with a friendly smile.

He looks different when he’s not scowling, but I don’t hold our first interaction against him.

Jade told me that Kyle was with her when she was kidnapped a month ago, and he blames himself for it.

It makes sense that he would be on guard around strangers, but he seems to have finally relaxed around me.

He sure looks happy for someone sporting a bruise on his jaw. “Hey, Jade. Wow, you guys look like something from a movie.”

His comment makes me smile as my eyes drop to my own gown, a rich blue paired with a golden diadem and gold bangles Jade gifted all the women at the party.

Coming in, I had no idea there would be a dress code and was content with being a bit of an odd one out, but Jade had a dress waiting for me.

How she even knew my size was a mystery, and yet, it fit like a glove.

“It’s Aphrodite and Hera to you, sir,” Jade counters, then gasps when she too spots the bruise on his jaw. “Oh my God, Kyle. What happened to your face?”

“A little scuffle in the boxing ring with one of the guys. No big deal,” he says with a grin.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He nods. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, but you should get some ice for it,” she instructs. “Hey, have you seen Blaze?”

The smile on my face drops and my heart begins to race at the mention of his name. “Blaze left a while ago. I heard that there was a bit of trouble, and Saint sent him to take care of it.”

I try to hide my disappointment, but I’m sure it shows on my face. I have no reason to be disappointed that the man is not here. Christ, why am I feeling this way? I've done my best to hide from him today, and knowing he was even in the same building was distracting.

And yet, I wanted to see him.

Uncharacteristically, I wanted him to see me. At my best, not hiding for once, but dressed like a goddess. The first time I chose not to hide away, and…he’s not here.

“He didn't wait?” Jade asks, seemingly disappointed as she turns to me. “I was hoping he'd give you a ride home.”

I shake my head. “I already called an Uber. I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure? It's late, and I mean, you need to drop your kit at work and then head home. Maybe we can wait until he returns.”

“Jade.” I offer her a smile, unwilling to put a damper on one of the happiest days of her life, and quite frankly, mine as well. “I'll be fine. I'll text you the second I get home.”

She lets me leave, albeit reluctantly, but I'm not about to dampen her day with worry, so I quickly get an Uber to work, drop off my things, and in less than an hour, I'm pulling up outside my building.

I fire her a quick text as I walk into the elevator, smiling at the memories of the day.

I was wary about meeting Jade's childhood friends, but they were all nice. I might not have seen Blaze like I’d wanted, but I had let myself be fully seen for the first time in years, and it had gone well.

I'm staring at Jade's response when I step out of the elevator and bump right into someone. The phone flies out of my hand to the floor. I wince when I hear the unmistakable sound of the screen cracking as it connects to the tile.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” I say, bending to grab my phone before looking up apologetically at the person I’d run into, but I'm met by an angry set of brown eyes. “James?”

If possible, his eyes darken. “So, have you been getting better sleep lately?

I don't play my music anymore,” he sneers, reaching up and touching his jaw.

I notice a fading purple bruise and wonder if one of our other neighbors decided to take matters into their own hands after all.

I realize with a start that I haven't heard any music coming from his place in days.

As a matter of fact, I have been sleeping better.

“Thanks,” I say, unsure of how to respond to the venom I see in his eyes.

“Oh, I bet you’re happy. Why wouldn’t you be?

” he responds harshly, moving forward and forcing me back a step.

“Did it feel good? Sending that animal after me?” I gasp when my back connects with the wall.

“That fucking beast punched me in the face and threatened to kill me if he ever heard a peep from my apartment. Never pictured you for a patch bunny, sleeping around with men like that!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, my hands clenching around my phone. His eyes drop to my hands, and I watch him take in my outfit. His eyes darken with something sinister as he trails them over me. “James—”

“At first, I was surprised he could look past that mark on your face and your creepy eyes,” he says. “But I can see the appeal now; your body more than makes up for your face.”

My stomach lurches as he presses closer, and I think I might actually be sick. No, he’s not…

“I did not send anyone to talk to you, James. I’ve never complained about your music,” I start, hoping I can talk my way out of whatever he’s thinking. “I’m sorry if someone hurt you, but it wasn’t me who sent them. I’ll just go—”

“The fuck you will!” He grabs my arms, forcing my hands apart, and I drop my phone once more.

He presses me against the wall with his body and brings his face close to mine.

The sensation of his hot, putrid breath against my face freezes me in place for a moment, but I’m jolted back to reality when I feel his hardness pressed against my stomach.

Blaze had me in a similar position only a few days ago, but my reaction to James couldn’t be more different.

Where Blaze made me feel excited and safe at the same time, James’s touch makes my skin crawl, and I start panicking.

A cry tears from my throat as I twist my body back and forth, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but his nails dig into my skin.

James isn’t as big as Blaze, but he’s still so much larger than I am, and his grip is strong.

“Let me go,” I scream in his face. It makes him ease back just enough for me to instinctively bring my knee up into his groin. He yells and doubles over, but doesn’t fully let me go.

One second, I’m turning my body as far as I can to break his hold, and in the next, he's flying across the hallway. His grasp on my arms pulls me forward a step before he lets go and I nearly fall to the floor. When I catch myself, I turn to see James crumpled on the floor against the opposite wall. He’s clutching his head, and there’s a hole in the plaster where he must have struck it.

Given his obvious pain, I can only assume he hit it headfirst, and the petty part of me hopes he has a concussion, or at the very least, one hell of a headache.

I turn when I notice movement to my left, unsurprised at who I find standing there, glaring and breathing like an enraged bull. Blaze. There is something murderous in his eyes that sends a chill down my spine even though his anger is not aimed at me, but the whimpering man still on the floor.

“How dare you touch her,” Blaze growls, taking a step toward the man.

The last thing I want is for Blaze to actually kill someone, and based on the way he approaches James, that’s clearly his intention, but I'm too shocked to do anything. I’ve never witnessed violence like this.

I watch as Blaze picks James up from the floor like he weighs nothing and shoves him against the wall hard enough to leave another crater in the plaster.

“I told you to mind your fucking manners, and you wouldn't have to deal with me.”

“I'm sorry,” James croaks, wheezing when Blaze slams his fist into the man's stomach.

“I’m not the one you owe an apology.”

James is panting, his face beet red, and I spot blood trickling from his nose.

It looks broken, and I realize he must have done it when he hit the wall.

He looks scared for his life when he finally lifts his eyes to me.

Earlier, they were angry and full of venom, and now, they are wide and terrified.

“I'm sorry, Ingrid,” he pants, his eyes pleading. “Please…I-I’m sorry. Please, ask him to let me go.”

I blink at the scene in front of me, unsure of what to do. There are so many questions floating in my mind, but there's only one dominant thought.

Blaze is here.

He came. The why and the how don't seem to matter in this moment. It's been four days. I've been counting. Four days of trying and failing to get the man out of my mind. He's in dark jeans and a white shirt that hugs those delicious muscles I've regretted not exploring when I had the chance.

He's here. I needed him, and he’s somehow here, protecting me.