Page 2
Chapter Two
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I ’m too stunned, frozen at the turn of events as one of the other males runs to hide behind their leader.
“We didn’t do nothing,” comes the wheeze of an answer. “We were just trying to get her somewhere safer, honest. Didn’t know she was a Nightshade’s girl.”
The male—a vampire, I realize—snarls again. I’m not sure how I know, but this vampire is about to kill the male in his grip. I don’t even think. If I did, I’d have stopped myself from touching him. Everyone knows you don’t try to pet a pissed-off grizzly bear.
I touch the vampire, resting my hand gently above his lower back.
His body freezes, turning as hard as a marble statue. Then he shoves the male back with another snarled command. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
I lower my hand, watching the two skate around us and run up the empty street. I never saw the vampire toss the third one, and I have no sympathy as the two struggle to help the injured third up. They’d have done much worse to me, if it hadn’t been for… him.
He’s still got his back to me, and dang he’s tall. I come up to his chest, maybe. My hand throbs and the rest of me starts to shake as I come down from the adrenaline high.
“Thank you,” I say, remembering my manners even as I shake out my hand. I’ve never actually had to punch someone for real, and it hurts way more than I expected.
I jump when he pulls my hand away, and I’m left gaping as he checks over my hand with an efficiency that speaks of years of experience. Then I’m gaping because the man is attractive, to a degree that seriously cannot be real.
He’s all olive skin, dark hair, and angular face with lips that Tonya would say are begging to kiss a lady’s other lips. He has a goatee that on anyone else would scream douche, but for him, it works. Because of course it does. He looks like he’s an Italian model, fresh off the latest photoshoot, especially with the suit that hugs his body.
He’s the type of client ladies dream of dancing for, hoping to catch his eye in hopes that he’d be interested in having a sugar baby. He’s the type of client I always avoided, knowing I’ve already given everything to Charlie.
Even if the idea of being the one taken care of for once is sometimes all I dream about. I’ll never risk it, though. Arrangements like that don’t suit women about to turn thirty with a pre-teen daughter.
Never mind the fact that those arrangements involve sex, which is something I’ve never actually done.
But when he runs his fingers over my hand, the pads rough enough to suggest he’s more than a pretty face, heat fills my cheeks before traveling lower. His golden eyes meet mine, and I’m trapped in place.
“Nothing seems to be broken. But you’ll want to get ice on that tonight, and it’ll probably hurt like a bitch tomorrow. It was a good punch, though. Solid.” His voice, full of dark violence before, is softer now. Like he’s worried he’ll alarm me. Considering the display of unnatural strength and the fact that he’s a vampire, I probably should be afraid. Instead, I feel safe.
No, I mentally scold myself. I’m responsible for my own safety, and more importantly, Charlie’s. I pull away from him, and he lets me go. I offer a brittle smile.
“I know. It’s not the first time I’ve punched someone.” A small lie. I’ve punched Johnny’s palms and stomach, but never that hard.
I can’t break my gaze from his, even when the logical part of me is screaming to leave. That this beautiful, handsome man is pure danger no matter if he just saved me.
He clears his throat, breaking the spell he seems to have cast over me. “So, not to sound like those jackasses”—he inclines his head in the direction the three males ran—“this end of Blood Street really isn’t the best place for a human woman on her own.”
I blow out in exasperation as the whole reason I’m here in the first place comes rushing back. I pull out my phone again. Of course, now there are messages from Sam.
BTS promise
gotta drop off a package to get the last of what i owe u.
shit is going down. might be later
u not checkin ur phone???
everything is fucked. cant do tonight. Ill take u and C-girl out for breakfast tmr????
“Goddammit,” I bite out as I look up, trying not to lose my shit on Sam. Any time I yell at him, he whines and cries like he’s the victim and nothing is ever his fault or responsibility. There’s no point in wasting any more energy on him tonight.
I jump, my heart practically leaping into my throat as the vampire is still standing in front of me. “Oh. You’re still here.”
Most people would have left as soon as they realized I was fine, if they’d stopped to help at all. I staunchly ignore the warm feelings that his staying threatens to build.
“I take it you haven’t gotten the response you’re waiting for?”
I nod, thinking that’s a nice way of saying it. “My baby brother is proving again just how unreliable he is.” I need to leave, before I do something stupid, like try to give him a hug to thank him. Thank him or have an excuse to touch him? “Could you point me to the closest bus stop? I’d rather not walk home if I can avoid it.”
It’s only a few miles, but I’m still on edge from the encounter, and the night is only going to get darker.
“Bus doesn’t run this late, especially if you’re headed across the bridge to Topside.”
“I don’t live in Topside,” I comment, distracted by the walk looming before me. There’s nothing but to face it. I give him my best professional smile. “Well, then. I should be off. I’ve got a couple miles to walk. Thanks for the help.”
Without waiting, I turn back the direction I came and start my walk. Since Sam didn’t get the money he owes me tonight, with rent and bills—I purse my lips, considering if I can afford a ride-share. I can, if I want to bet on Sam actually showing up for breakfast tomorrow.
Better not to risk it. Especially since I still need to get a ride to Topside for the performance interview in two days.
I eye the growing clouds nervously and wish I’d thought to bring a jacket. I start a mental list of all the things I want to do to Sam; first and foremost, make him walk 2 hours in the dark and rain after standing like an idiot for over an hour on a crowded street. I’d like to push him into a full dumpster that’s a week overdue for pickup and lock him in. Or maybe tattoo something like a piece of shit on his forehead so everyone will know what he is.
“Look”—the vampire is walking next to me now, but I don’t stop. “It’s about to be pissing buckets.”
“I can handle a bit of rain.”
I’d better not get sick, I think as the wind sends another chill over me. If I get sick, I won’t do well at the interview, and I need this job.
Then he’s touching me again, his hand cool against my bare arm, stopping me. He’s holding out an ID and a black business card.
“My name is Malachi. My car is one block over. You’ve had a shitty night, no need to suffer more. Let me drive you home. Take a picture of my ID and card, and send it to a friend or someone, so you know I’m not going to try anything.”
I narrow my eyes at him, weighing the options. I like to think I’m a good judge of character; I’ve had plenty of experience with creeps. This man isn’t giving off creep vibes at all.
It’s a green flag that he’s offering his ID to ensure my sense of safety. That warm feeling from someone showing genuine care starts building again. I really shouldn’t take him—Malachi—up on it.
Then the sky opens up and fat raindrops start plunking down against my head and shoulders.
Screw this.
I quickly snap pictures of his ID and business card before texting them to myself and Tonya. Then, as a second safety measure, I snatch the cards from him and shove them into my bra. I’m actually a bit surprised I caught him off guard, and from his wide eyes, he might be too.
I let him know I sent the pictures to more people than I really did. “And I’ll hold onto these until I’m at my place, safe.”
His hypnotizing lips spread in a grin, and his eyes warm with something that could be approval. Then he’s taking off that gorgeous suit jacket and wrapping it around me. The interior is silk-lined and much warmer than I expected for a vampire. Then a smell that can only be him is so good, I almost make a fool of myself by bringing it up to my nose to breathe in.
It’s rich and earthy and spicy. It’s a scent that promises indulgences and pleasure and an old-world level of hedonism.
As the rain increases, we cross the street. He’s getting soaked because of me, his white shirt plastering to his skin. I grab his hand before realizing it, and when he looks at me, I raise up the jacket, like I’d done with Charlie so many times. “We can share it. No point in you getting wet, either.”
To my surprise, Malachi takes me up on the offer, crouching down and taking hold of the other half of the jacket. This close, I can’t ignore how he smells like forbidden temptation.
I hear Tonya and the rest of the girls I work with telling me to live a little and at least let myself enjoy being next to him. I can do that. I don’t live far from here, so what harm is there in letting myself relax and enjoy this? It’s not like I’m likely to ever see him again. Even if I don’t get the stage producer position, he’s not exactly the type of man that frequents The Gentleman’s Study.
So when the wind whips at the jacket as we’re hurrying down the street, I let myself laugh as we’re both hit with rain. He smiles back and my heart pitter-patters, I swear. I hide my face when he pulls me closer, and he keeps me tucked against him as we run down the alley.
We stop in front of a door. Malachi presses his thumb to a pad, and then we’re finally out of the rain. The heavy metal door shuts behind us, leaving us in the sudden quiet as the storm is cut off. The only sound is my breathing, heavy from the combination of laughing and running. I shoot him a grateful smile when he avoids drenching me as he takes his jacket back.
He stares at me for a long moment, and that warmth in my stomach is back with a vengeance and now it’s moving lower. My breath catches in my throat, my mouth drying, as his eyes sweep across my face.
There’s no way he’s attracted to me, I tell myself. If I was on stage, I could believe it. But me, as I am? Especially with my dress now stuck to me, showing off all the most unflattering parts of me. Water rolls into my eyes, and I realize my hair has to be a wild mess. I probably look like a lunatic to him right now, a silly, short woman soaked through in a dress meant for summer and rose-pink hair strands clinging to my cheeks and forehead.
Malachi grabs a key from a gray box hanging beside the door, and I find that I can breathe again. “This is me,” he says, and then a car starts. He strides to a large hunter green Range Rover and opens the passenger door for me. “Hop in.”
The car is a good reminder of the differences between Malachi and me. I realize the cars parked beside his are just as expensive, the types of cars people like me dream of owning. The type where dreaming is as close to having one as we’ll get.
“Fancy,” I say, feeling the need to say something at least. I make a point not to get too close as I move around him and climb into the passenger seat. I hesitate, realizing that I’m wet and the seat is real leather. He doesn’t notice my hesitation, though, since he’s already moving around to get in. I sit, tugging the door shut carefully, and then gingerly buckle myself in. I sit straight up, hoping that I can at least spare the seat’s back any damage.
He presses a button on the console. “If it gets too hot, just press this.”
I frown in confusion, looking at the button, then warmth starts to sink into my chilled skin and, oh, it feels so good.
When he asks for directions, I give him the closest cross streets, planning to let him drop me off there.
Never one to avoid talking, it’s strange to sit in silence. Except I can’t think of anything because I’m focusing so hard on keeping my guard up. The inside of the car smells like him, but in a teasing way. Each time he moves, a burst of scent tempts me to lower my guard and give in. To admit that I’m very much attracted to this male, driving me home after saving me from a godawful night.
It hits me like a weight at that moment. I could very well have died tonight, and that would have been after those males... I swallow hard, pushing the rising fear away. There’s no point dwelling on what could have happened. It didn’t, and I won’t put myself in that position again.
New adrenaline trickles into my veins, and I’ve finally sunk into the warm heat the seat cradles me in. The seats are butter soft, richly scented, and I keep stealing glances at my rescuer.
A knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress. Where, in the stories, after the villains are destroyed, the knight professes his love for the woman and they live happily ever after.
What would it be like if I let myself have a knight for just a little bit longer?
Malachi turning onto a street I recognize pulls me out of my silly little fantasy.
“That’s me.” I point to the townhome I rent, the porch light still on thanks to Charlie. The entry looks more welcoming than the rest of the dated townhouses along the street, thanks to the wreath she insisted on putting up at the beginning of spring.
Malachi pulls the SUV to a stop beside the curb, and I really hope my daughter is asleep already. Or, if not asleep, nose buried in one of her books. I really don’t want her to ask questions about who is dropping me off.
I don’t know why, considering there wouldn’t be much to tell.
I unbuckle and give Malachi a genuine smile. The rain is still coming down in buckets, and I’d probably have caught a cold walking home in the storm. “Thanks, again, for the ride. And earlier.”
He gives me a roguish smile, one side of his lips parting enough I get a teasing glimpse of a fang. His golden eyes are unnaturally bright in the dim interior, the black of his pupils deep enough I want to sink into him. “No problem.”
His voice is both rough as gravel and smooth silk. He isn’t my knight in shining armor; I live in reality. Maybe, though, I can give myself this one small thing.
I lean over the middle console, bracing my hand on the smooth leather cover, and press a kiss to his cheek. At that moment, I memorize everything about him. His rich scent of something decadent, the abrasive stubble on his cheeks, the way his jaw begs to be nibbled on.
I pull away, unable to risk lingering any longer. Resisting the temptation to steal more than this fraction of a moment for myself.
Malachi looks at me as if I’ve slapped him upside the head, those lips of his parted. Christ, I don’t know why I did that. Embarrassment heats my cheeks, and I’m internally shouting at myself to get out of the car now. I don’t, though, trapped in place by those hypnotic eyes. Eyes that are shifting from surprised to something close to desire.
The world disappears around me, narrowing down to this handsome vampire alone. Even the logical voice in my head is quiet. The space between heartbeats stretches into years.
Then we’re kissing. I open for him instantly, moaning as his tongue slips between my lips and his hand slides into my hair to cup the back of my head as he takes complete control of the kiss. I need more, need to feel his strength, bringing my hands to his shoulder and neck.
He’s consuming me as if he’s a dark god and I’m his eager sacrifice. Kissing me, devouring me, dragging me into his darkness.
He jerks under me, breaking the trance. I retreat, the world slipping back in around me. My lips are swollen, tingling from the rough treatment. Our eyes drop down to his seatbelt, locking him in place.
Saving me from disappearing into a fantasy world where I can have someone for myself. Somewhere that I don’t have a daughter waiting, needing me to protect and provide for her.
“Bye,” I manage to say and escape the vehicle and keep my head ducked as I hurry to my front door, pulling my keys from my purse as I dodge puddles. I’ve got the key in, turning it when I hear him again.
“What’s your name?”
I give him a wave goodbye, while smiling, and slip into the house and slump against the closed door behind me. I drop my head back against the door, staring up at the ceiling, my heart racing and thoughts going even faster.
I reach over blindly for the light switch, turning off the porch light in hopes he won’t linger. I had to run, had to deny him my name. That way, it’s not real. It’s a fun moment in time that I can think about when the dark nights get too lonely.
If he comes up to the door, I might let him in. One night couldn’t hurt me. I lock the door, hoping that if he does, it’ll stop me making a bad decision. Another bad one, at least.
“Mom?”
A sleepy Charlie in pajama shorts and one of my old oversized tees appears at the top of the stairs.
No, one night with a man like him could ruin everything I’ve worked for. The fact that I can feel his lips still against mine will have to be more than enough.
I push off the door and slip my shoes off on the bottom shelf of the rack. Hanging my purse on the hook above the shoe rack, I grin up at my daughter as I hurry up the stairs.
“You, missy, should be in bed by now,” I tease, loving the way she rolls her eyes at me.
Maybe one day I’ll let myself look for a relationship with a man, but not now. My daughter is too important to me.