Page 40 of Unholy Vows

Layla

I stared around my empty apartment. The space was barren and stripped of warmth, all traces of my presence gone.

It had been three weeks since that brutal night. Three weeks of constant nightmares. Three weeks spent checking the news for any sign that the police might break down my door.

But Malachai had taken care of everything.

I’d sat stunned, the shock holding me hostage, as I watched three burly men in hazmat suits emerge from between the corn stalks like silent wraiths. They had wasted no time introducing themselves as they cleaned the crime scene.

They moved like a well-oiled machine. One secured the perimeter, another sprayed down the blood-streaked ground, while the third zipped up Reece’s decimated body into a thick black bag.

The sharp gestures, precise movements, and the eerie sound of plastic crinkling in the still night air lingered in my nightmares as vividly as the sight of my own bloodied hands.

It was as if it were any other Tuesday for them. Another body, another mess, another night.

And that thought terrified me.

I wasn’t naive. I knew the dangers that lurked in the dark. But the cold efficiency with which Reece’s life was erased from the earth was still unsettling.

Once it was all done, Malachai took me home, cleaned me up, and disposed of my blood-soaked dress. Then, he’d scrubbed my bathroom with some strong-smelling chemical before climbing into bed behind me, wrapping me in his arms, and stroking my hair until I finally gave in to my need for sleep.

The next morning, I wanted to flee. I wanted to leave town and never look back. But Malachai pointed out how suspicious that would look, and I begrudgingly agreed.

That was until Margot burst into my apartment, screaming about a promotion she’d applied for but never expected to get.

Turns out, she’d been the frontrunner the entire time. And the best part? It was in Seattle. Margot didn’t need to beg a whole lot to convince me to go with her. My business was mostly online, and I could conduct all my meetings via video conference.

So, I accepted.

The next day, Malachai left the priesthood, claiming he needed to seek divine inspiration, much to his parishioners’ dismay. He conveniently omitted the part where his idea of divinity came from the guy downstairs with horns and a pitchfork, not the one handing out halos, but hey, semantics.

I was more than ready to close this chapter of my life and move on to whatever came next. Yet, as I looked around my empty apartment, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of sadness.

As unconventional as it was, this was where I’d found myself, and Malachai was a big part of that.

He’d crashed into my life like a wrecking ball — dangerous, chaotic, and unrelenting.

But somewhere between the blood stains and broken rules, I’d stopped seeing him as a threat and started seeing him as something else.

Something… necessary.

I trailed my fingers over the chipped windowsill where he’d left an indentation in the wood when he broke into my home the first time.

The thought brought a smile to my lips, and I knew that fact was something I should probably talk to my non-existent therapist about, but that was a problem for another day.

The roar of a motorcycle drew my attention, and I peered out the window to see Malachai gazing up at me from the back of his bike.

He looked like sin made flesh — helmet tucked under one arm, leather jacket clinging to his broad shoulders, and that maddening smirk playing on his lips as if he’d just stepped out of my darkest fantasy and knew it.

Wind tousled his hair, the strands catching the early light, and the growl of the engine beneath him seemed to sync with my pulse, wild and unrelenting.

I didn’t know if I would ever get used to the way he made me feel with a single glance. How his dark eyes, simmering with intensity, were laced with the kind of promise that made my breath hitch.

He didn’t beckon me over to him. He didn’t need to.

His presence alone was summons enough. I felt it in my bones. The pull towards him was irresistible and frustrating in equal measure.

I hesitated only a second before grabbing my coat and heading for the door, my heart pounding from the anticipation of the unknown. My fingers skimmed the smooth railing as I hurried down the steps to meet Malachai.

“I swear these stairs multiplied just to mess with me,” I grumbled.

When I finally reached the bottom of the stairwell, I slowed my pace and then pulled the door open before I stepped into the street. The warmth of the sun spilled over me like a balm, chasing away the last remnants of uncertainty clinging to my skin.

My gaze immediately fell on Malachai.

He held out a helmet to me without a word, that devil-may-care glint still dancing in his eyes. I took it, my fingers brushing against his, and the contact sent a jolt through me, electric and grounding all at once.

“I have something for you,” he said with a lazy smile, and I couldn’t help but return it.

When he didn’t move, I arched a brow in amusement.

“Are you going to give it to me?”

Malachai’s grin widened.

“Oh, I’ll give it to you, Little Sinner.”

His voice was low and seductive as he dragged me toward him, plastering me against his firm chest.

His lips descended on mine, and his tongue invaded my mouth, sucking and stroking, as he consumed me. When we broke apart, he gripped my wrist and pressed my palm against the sizable bulge growing in his jeans.

“Do you feel what you do to me, baby?”

I laughed, pushing him away as I squeezed my thighs together to alleviate the mounting pressure of my arousal.

“I still want my present!”

Malachai chuckled as he reached behind him and pulled something out of his bag. When he faced me, he handed me a large black box, tied neatly with a satin bow.

“Fancy,” I said, unable to hide my excitement.

I untied the ribbon and tore off the lid, revealing a gorgeous leather jacket. It was a replica of the one he’d sliced off me the night we first met.

“My jacket!” I shrieked as I hastily pulled it from the box.

“I figured I owed you one.”

“You figured that, did you?” I said with a scowl. “I’ve only been reminding you for ages.”

“Little Sinner,” Malachai said in warning. “Keep sassing me like that and I might be forced to resort to uncivilized methods.”

“As if you know how to be civilized.”

Malachai gripped me by the nape of my neck, pulling me close so he could whisper in my ear.

“You still have one hole left for me to claim, Little Sinner. Keep it up, and I’ll drag you back upstairs and do it right now. I wouldn’t expect the ride to Seattle would be very comfortable thereafter, no?”

A shiver raced through me, but if Malachai had intended to scare me, he’d failed. His filthy words had the opposite effect, and my arousal was now at a fever pitch.

A sadistic glint lit up his eyes as he watched me.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I pursed my lips, my gaze locked with his before I said, “Maybe.”

Malachai let out a low, throaty laugh.

“I’ll ask again. Where have you been all my life, Layla Monroe?”

I pushed up on the balls of my feet and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Waiting for you to catch me.”

Malachai’s arms wrapped around my waist, and he speared his free hand through my hair.

“Caught you,” he whispered against my lips before he kissed me senseless.

His grip tightened just enough to pull me closer, and at that moment, nothing else mattered.

As I climbed on behind him, the world narrowed to the warmth of his body, the scent of leather and smoke, and the low rumble beneath us. My arms wrapped around his waist, and he glanced back with a wicked grin.

“Ready?” he asked.

Not even a little, but I wasn’t about to admit that.

It was my first time on a motorbike, and I was terrified.

Instead, I nodded, and Malachai revved the engine.

“What will you do when we reach Seattle?” I asked.

“I’m thinking… undertaker.”

I barked out a laugh, slapping my palm against Malachai’s chest.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Malachai slammed his helmet over his head, covering his mischievous smirk. I did the same, and after he was satisfied that I had done it correctly, he revved the engine once more, and we tore off into the unknown.