Ava marches down the steps, muttering in English and alternating to broken Spanish. Though she’s not aware I understand, I defer to the conversational Spanish I’ve spoken: She hasn’t a desire to bekept. Too bad.
Once she’s kicking at the earth, I grip her arm and start walking. “Since you slept most of the flight, I thought we could walk to a pub or . . .”
Ava yanks away and takes off at a full sprint, her shapely legs extending farther than I thought possible.
“Oh,” I groan, letting my head drop, the faint sun rays kissing it softly.I should probably go after her before she gets attacked.“But she’s brought this on herself.”
Approximately twenty yards from disappearing into the forest, Ava’s retreat stops abruptly. Men,my men, converge on her from a radius of half a mile out. Pistols, shotguns, semi-automatics are all drawn.
My little birdie suffers a glance over her shoulder, and my cold, dead heart swells. It’s nice to be needed. Casually, I swagger over.
“Let’s grab a pint, woman.”
She doesn’t take kindly to my friendly demeanor.
Well, I’m not one for smiling all the time. I crack my neck and proceed. “You have three choices. Order those bonny legs to walk to the pub—eat,” I check off each box with a snarled growl, “or my men drag yourarseto my place—no food. Or lastly, and just as inevitable with or without your consent, these hands—”
She punches me in the jaw.
I grip her tiny fist as she attempts to throw another with the opposite hand and spin her around. My cock rests rather nicely against herarse. “Oh, brilliant. You got your lick in. First one’s free, lassie. And for your information, I saw that coming.”
“Oh, yeah?” Her head zips forward, rockets back, and thumps into my shoulder.
“Wee bit off the mark.” I grip her breast in one hand and snake an arm around her waist. “Look around you, birdie.”
“Grrr—”
“Look around you!” The hand that was enjoying copping a feel slides up, fitting perfectly around her throat. “God blessed you with such a pretty, pretty body. These hands were made for you.”
I alternate from squeezing her neck to consenting her oxygen. “I’m not themotherfeckerwho gets off on you pulling and tugging away from me.” Honestly, I’m not. I’m a tad slighted she didn’t see me and fall head over hills or, more logically, descend to her knees. “But you’re fighting me—”
“You. Are. Dead,” Ava grits out.
My henchmen’s heads lower, eyes averted from the threat before them. A few guns anchored toward the ground pan upward. I click my tongue, and my men fan out. They return to their stations in the thick of the tree lining.
The soft, sweet body wrapped in my arms draws rigid. With air caught in her throat, Ava moans a single word, “Why?”
5
Ava
Gaze unwavering, I stare at the man I gauged as a monster. Kieran’s quickly transformed into an attractive enigma. But I won’t let that sway me. My heart aches from the familiarity of betrayal. The last time I allowed myself to believe in humanity, inman,it went peachy as always. For everyone but me.
I reiterate, “Why?”
Pure indignation colors Kieran’s face. I’m not sure why he cut his hair. The blunt strands skim the length of his knife-carved jaw. The lack of hair also sends my gaze clashing with his, and he growls in frustration. The force of it kickstarts my heart even further, and a healthy dose of fear shoots down my spine. “Which way to the pub?” I murmur, conceding.
* * *
Igrew up self-reliant. By the age of seventeen, I made a home for myself on the second to the top level of a parking structure a few blocks north of my high school. My entertainment of choice was to read people—teachers, parents, strangers. Observing people helped me function and live on my own. That and the one Intro to Psych class I took as a high school senior. However, no amount of intelligence or reading people could stop the receding sun during daylight savings. While the rest of the kids my age slammed the change in season because it cut their social lives short, I returned to my makeshift home before dark.
Except for once. I found myself on the opposite end of an alleyway, racing a sliver of sunlight.
I hadn’t thought about that for a long time until Kieran. I walked through a thicket of trees. The air was crisp. The only sound was a stream nearby and the drum of my heart as I anticipated seeing one of his goons.
We didn’t pass a single man, to my knowledge. My ears perked, body full of adrenaline. Those bastards hid themselves well. Now, we’re seated at a dark pub teeming with the aroma of fresh hops. There are few other patrons. A man and woman are all over each other, and nothing short of screaming for help will get their attention. There’s a depressed-looking man with wiry white hair spilling forward into the froth of the pint he’s quietly nursing.
Kieran carries a stool over the brick flooring. I slide around the tiny-Tim table. My mouth curves as he grinds his teeth. The glower I flash in his direction begs theactto end.