My eyes flutter back and forth between him and the gun while I contemplate my options.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Tell me what you’re doing here, Amelia. Why do you work here?” he asks, visibly upset.
I frown. What kind of question is that? “I need to make money.”
He lowers his head. “What for?”
“To pay off my loans,” I spill out quickly, hoping it’ll appease him.
It’s quiet for some time, uncomfortably so.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Don’t let these fuckers touch you again.”
Why would he care? Who is this guy? I thought he was trying to save me from that drunk, but now I feel as though it’s more than that. It’s almost as if … he wants something from me?
“You got that?” he growls.
I nod a few times.
“Good girl,” he says with that same gravelly voice that makes all my senses come to life.
He rummages around in his pocket and fishes out a stack of money so thick that it makes my eyes pop. He smacks it down on the table and points at it.
“Take it.”
I’m so damn confused right now. I didn’t give him anything—no drinks, nothing—so what’s he paying for. “Why?”
The look on his face is serious. “Take. It.”
I don’t think twice before I grab it and shove it in my pocket.
I mean, I’m not saying no to free money, but there has to be a catch. No one would ever give a random girl this much money without wanting something in return. Maybe this guy wants me all to himself.
I shiver at the thought. At the idea of those calloused hands that only just hovered over the trigger of his gun being gentle on my skin. At the idea of those eyes boring into mine while he’d force me to sit down with him. At the thought of his lips sliding down my neck while whispering filthy little commands into my ear, lulling me into submission.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he sneers, “Leave.”
My brows furrow. “What? Why?”
“I gave you the money you’d earn tonight. Now get out of here.”
I’m flabbergasted. Why would he do this? Why would he want me to go when he could have me all to himself for all this money? What would he gain from having me gone?
“Go!” he says through gritted teeth, the menacing look on his face enough to make me jolt up and run.
I don’t even take the time to tell Joe that I’m done for tonight. I just rush out the door, praying that this man, whoever he is, doesn’t come after me.
Because I’m certain this won’t be the last time I see him.
Chapter 2
Eli
I waited for her in the shadows of that strip joint, and when she finally appeared from behind the bar, she took my breath away. Her pretty black hair in pigtails and her petite body wrapped in a small red dress. When the men in there started looking at her like hungry wolves it made my blood boil.
No one gets to look at her like that.
No one … not even me.
And when that fucker started touching her like he could, like he was allowed and she was there only for him, I had to intervene.
I never intervene.
This is rule number one of our House. Do not stop people from doing what they want. Observe, listen, then act.
By stepping in, I inadvertently stopped her from doing what she needed to do, and it prevented me from seeing the truth unravel before me. The universal truth that is the basis of our very human nature—hunt or be hunted.
But I couldn’t let her make that choice.
I had to step in and get that fucker to take his hands off her because I couldn’t let him soil her. I couldn’t allow anyone to because I wanted her all to myself.
And that is where I crossed the line.
I knew it when I first saw her in the car that I’d make this decision, and I knew then I’d end up regretting it. Because this isn’t what we do, what I do.
I watch … I judge … I punish.
But if I succumb to lust, then I become the sinner.
Still, I cannot resist.
When she finally flees that godforsaken place after I told her to, I follow her outside. She can’t be too far up ahead, maybe a couple of steps. But I trail her inconspicuously, blending into the crowd of people partying tonight in this part of town.
She walks right by them, careful not to bump into anyone even though they’re all looking at her because of the way she’s dressed. She didn’t even grab a coat off the rails near the exit of the strip joint. That’s how eager she was to leave … How scared she was of me.
It’s a price I’d gladly pay to keep her out of evil’s hands.
But I have to know, I need to see with my own two eyes, what she’s going to do.
She skids across the pavement like she’s in a hurry to get home, her pale face even whiter than before as though she’s seen a ghost. But I’m not a figment of her imagination. I’m as real as can be. She’s going to wish I was merely a nightmare she could wake up from.
Suddenly, she stops in her tracks, and I wait in an alley, peeking along the building to see what she’s up to.
She pauses near a homeless guy sitting on the streets holding up a tiny bowl to the people walking right by him.
But she didn’t. She saw him, and she stopped.
For a split second, she looks around, so I duck behind a wall, hoping not to be seen.
When I peer at her again, she fishes the wad of cash I gave her from her pocket and stuffs it into the beggar's bowl.
The man looks up at her and smiles, but before he can say a word, she’s already gone.
Whisked away by the wind like a beautiful, thoughtful, generous angel.
And it moves me.
A smile forms on my lips. “Maybe you aren’t such a sinner after all, little angel,” I mutter under my breath.
I didn’t want to follow her, but I couldn’t stop myself.
When I saw her on the streets, I knew she’d be the one.
The one I needed to have.
The one who could break me.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think she’d give that cash I gave her to a homeless man. Loans aren’t easy to pay off and look at what she’s willing to do to straighten out her balance. She sells her body like a whore and doesn’t even mind. Still, she gives away the money I handed her freely as though it means nothing to her.
That little angel is one to keep.
One to admire. One to fear.
Goose bumps scatter on my skin just from the thought.
I know everything I need to know about this beautiful creature, this obsession of mine.
Amelia
On my way back home, I can’t stop looking at all the cars passing by. Every time one of them stops, I feel like they’re following me, or worse, that someone might step out to come and grab me.
I blow out a breath and keep walking, determined not to let the cars distract me. It’s all in my mind anyway. No one’s coming to get me. I didn’t do anything wrong.
But then why can’t I shake this feeling of imminent doom?
Because of that man at the club.
That man who pointed a gun at the head of the guy who was touching me.
It really did a number on me. Thinking about it still makes sweat pool in the small of my back.