Page 32 of Sweet Torture (Torture Games #1)

“It would be wise for you to reconsider. You never know when having someone like me in your corner would be advantageous.” Vlad circles me like prey, and I shrink away from him.

How could I get myself into this situation? I should have stopped Chaos earlier and gotten out of here. But then I would have missed the single greatest show of consideration in my life.

Chaos never misses a beat. His hand moves down the jerk’s arms, and he wrenches both arms back, his knee still applying pressure.

“That might be true. It would just have to be one of the regrets I live with. If you would excuse me, I would like to conclude my business here and take my girl home.” Chaos’s demeanor is as calm as if he were conducting a meeting.

Vlad halts before me, and I peer around him to see Chaos tense up. I recoil when the purple hairstreak that has fallen over my forehead is tucked behind my ear.

“I had a fascinating chat with Naz today. I can see why you are so captivated by the little artist. Unfortunately, I am sure you know the world is dangerous, and accidents happen. I would be more careful with the company you keep, dear.” He is addressing me, and I can barely move.

There it is, the evil I was talking about.

The movement of the man falling forward elicits a communal sigh from the crowd. He slams face-first into the floor, blood trickling in a thin stream from his nose. He doesn’t even stop himself; his arms are too lame from the position they were forced into, I assume.

“Let’s go.” Chaos grabs my hand and pulls me out of reach of Vlad.

“Do you have all your things?” I point at Rose, and she gingerly walks closer.

“Thank you for being such a gracious host, Vlad. I am sure we will meet again sometime in the future.” Chaos turns, but Vlad’s voice cuts above all the murmuring.

“Be careful, Maxwell; the city is not as big as you hope it is.”

Chaos’s face hardens, and he drags me from the club at a hurried pace .

Once outside, I inhale the foul stench of pee that lingers around places like these, gratefully.

“What were you thinking?” he roars while pulling me along.

I take in the haphazard way his hair is standing up and the fact that he is wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He must have dressed in a hurry.

“What was I thinking? What were you thinking? Griffin, those were not idle threats; you should never have come here.” I gasp at the implications. I have firmly put us all on a psycho’s radar.

We have made it down the block with Rose teetering on her high heels behind us.

“Oh sure, and I presume you would have fought off the asshole all on your own,” he hisses.

He keeps pulling me along, never letting go of my hand. And I am practically jogging to keep up with his long strides.

“No, but could have ignored him, and none of the drama you made would have followed.”

He screams into the night, “Drama I made? Did you hear what he said to you? He insulted you. I should have broken his neck right there and then. At least I gave him the opportunity to fix the slight.” His fingers bruise mine as his other hand is clenched in a fist.

“I am sure this is not the first time you have had to endure someone saying something insulting about me. Grow up. People are cruel. Besides, how did you find me? I never told you where we were going.”

I rip my hand from his and stand still. Is there something he is not telling me?

His neck turns red, and shame radiates from him.

I cross my arms, and Rose is nearly within reach when I demand, ‘You better start talking, Griffin. I won’t tolerate deception between us.”

“Oh, like you told me what you were planning for tonight?” he seethes, mimicking my stance.

I push closer to him and get up on my tiptoes to get in his face. “I tried but you treated me like a whore first so I assumed you weren’t interested in my business or my so-called clients as you refer to my activities. Now tell me how you found me.”

Rose reads the tension between us and makes an excuse to stand back a few paces before she takes out her phone and ignores the scene before her.

He pinches his lips and finally gives in when he sees I am not giving an inch.

“I had some of my men follow you. They were to report your movements promptly but I was stuck in another situation. But I got here as soon as I could.”

I take a step back and take in his casual wear when it dawns on me. “No, you needed to clean up first before you charged into a place filled with witnesses.”

My keen observation surprises him. An expression of guilt crosses his face but what he doesn’t realize is that I find myself completely unaffected by his dealings and grateful he pitched up at all.

This situation got out of hand so quickly, I was sure we were going to disappear tonight.

It also explains the feeling I recently developed of being followed or having eyes on me.

It is a huge relief to hear the eyes belong to someone who wants to keep me safe.

Unfortunately, I will have to put a stop to it.

“As you have reminded me various times, this is purely a business transaction. You will pull your men off my detail and leave me in peace. Why even come to my rescue now? You made it clear what your opinion is about me,” I bait him, expecting him to brush me off.

His growl is so loud when he pins me to the black SUV at the curb with his body. I am unable to move.

“For the last fucking time, you are mine. And nobody touches what is mine.”

He steps back to open the door to the passenger side and gives me a hand to help me in.

Stunned, I accept his assistance and patiently sit while he leans over me to buckle my seatbelt.

His scent wraps around me and affords me the sense of sanity I have been searching for from the second we set foot in the club.

Closing the door, I see him open the back door for Rose. When she is seated, he jogs around the car and slips into the driver’s seat. All is quiet until Rose needs to pipe up and give directions to her home .

The car stops in the street before Rose’s apartment, and they both get out as Chaos walks her to her front door, and they have a five-minute conversation before she closes the door in his face. He waits for her to lock it. Once back in the car, he drives slowly and controlled to my playhouse.

I rush to get out without his help and practically run to my front door.

“We will talk tomorrow. We have a lot to discuss,” he says from behind me.

I don’t turn around, too ashamed of my actions, when he was clearly trying to keep me safe. "Yes, tomorrow,” is all I can say while I struggle with my thousand locks.

Pushing the door open, I waste no time closing it behind me. I lock all the door locks before I hear his steps turn and leave. Blowing out all the fear trapped inside, I slide down the door while tears roll down my cheeks.