Ace
Iwake with Cara still in my arms. She moves like a sleepy kitten seeking warmth, nuzzling her face into my chest as she cuddles closer. I just take a moment to stare at the end of her nose with its little upward tilt and the full, roundness of her cheeks. I brush a hand lightly over her hair from where it falls in tangled waves down to her shoulders. My fingers get snagged in the locks, and for a moment, I don’t try to pull them free. They’re soft and warm, and the feel of her hair on my skin makes me want to bury myself inside her once more.
I've never felt this way about a woman before. She is like sunshine and desire all wrapped in one addictive package. The way she'd danced at the restaurant. The movement of her limbs once the rhythm of the music had taken over. It made me want her. It made me crave her in a way I never craved anything before.
My pretty little dancer.
Perhaps I shouldn't desire her the way that I do. It isn’t necessarily ideal for either of us. She’s a civilian and far too innocent to understand the life that I live. The life that I cannot leave. I shift away from her, sliding my arm out from beneath her head, and gently slide a pillow into its place. She hardly makes a sound, and she definitely doesn't wake. I sit there and stare at her for a moment more, wondering what it'd be like if I could have her and my family.
Unfortunately, a moment later, my cell goes off. A quick look reminds me there's business to take care of, and my brothers have already started without me. Knox—the craziest one out of my brothers—sent me a selfie with blood splatter on the right side of his face. He is grinning and giving me a thumbs-up like he is having the best time of his life.
I make quick work of a shower and stop off in my closet to don a three-piece suit. One press of a button on the wall brings down my weapons. I slide two into the shoulder holsters beneath my jacket before buttoning up and then a third, smaller handgun against my ankle. I am a man who must always be ready for war. Cara doesn't understand the bloody streets she walks in.
My feet slow as I pause in the doorway and turn to look back at her one last time. With her hair barely peeking out from the covers, she looks so much younger than she actually is. It almost makes me feel like a pervert. After last night, though, I know the truth. I am a pervert and a nasty one at that. I have a business to run, and if she stays, she'd always be in danger.
I consider my options.
What could I do to keep her? Is it even feasible? My brothers have made it work, but they aren't always in the direct line of fire that I am. I am the head of the Hale family. If someone were to attempt to take us out, they would begin with me... and my wife.
Cara groans from the bed, stretching as she comes slowly to the waking world. She even stretches like a kitten, all long limbs and arched back. The sheet slips down, revealing the smooth, creamy expanse of her skin and her pink-tipped breasts. Despite the exhaustive efforts of the night before, my cock hardens inside my slacks.
When she spots me from across the room, her lips curve into a sleepy smile. "Hey," she says with a sigh. "What are you doing over there?" She pats the bed at her side, an indication that she wants me to return, but I can't. It's time. I want to keep this woman, but I am not my brothers. Things are different for me, and she needs to understand what she could be getting into if she stays. She needs to realize what kind of man she's taken to her bed.
"Get up," I say. "And get dressed." I cross my arms over my chest and nod toward the chair to the side of the bed. "There are clothes there for you."
She blinks at what I can only guess is the frigidness in my tone. "Is everything okay?" she asks, reaching for the sheet as she pulls it back up to cover her chest. It's a sorry sight to see taken away, but it does clear my mind a bit.
"Just get dressed. I'll wait in the hall," I say as I turn the knob and step out of the room, closing the door behind me. I check my messages again and see several more from a few of the others, including Devin and John. Several minutes go by, and the door behind me opens. Cara pokes her head out into the hall as I look back. "Let's go," I order.
"Go?" She slips from the room, looking even more innocent dressed in the white blouse and tan shorts she's wearing than she had naked in my bed. "Where are we going?" she asks again.
Instead of answering, though, I turn away and start off. "This way," I call behind me. The sound of her footsteps on the carpet behind me lets me know she's following.
"Ace?" Cara's voice sounds a bit tremulous. Unsure. She should be. I may crave her and her body, but I am not a man who would keep a woman who can't handle the truth. My doubt in her grows with each passing step. "You're acting strange," she accuses. Maybe I am, but the coldness is purposeful. The night with her was far too short, over long before it should've been. One night. It's likely all I'll ever get. I can't keep her and be the head of the Hale family if she's too weak.
She'll choose to run, I suspect. I wonder if I can bear to let her go.
I hear the grunts of pain and the sounds of fists hitting flesh before we even open the door we stop in front of. I glance back once, but Cara's eyes are on the wooden surface of that door, her eyes wide as she pinches her thumb and forefinger together and presses it against her lower lip in uncertainty. Her eyes lift to my face.
"Are you ready?" I chance to ask.
She shakes her head. "I don't understand," she confesses. "Ready for what?"
I reach for the door, turn the knob, and push it inward. The sounds of beating grow louder. Cara gasps as she peers inside. I reach out and grip her arm when she moves to take a step back and pull her in after me. "W-What are they doing?" she demands, her head turning to me and then back to the sight before us.
David is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, his face already half pulverized. A large purple knot is already forming against one side of his forehead, and his lower lip juts out as he drools blood and spittle into his own lap. Below the knot, his eye is so swollen, it's become nothing more than a black-and-blue slit. His nose is twisted to the side with dried blood caked beneath his nostrils, and every time he breathes, he wheezes.
Broken fingers. Broken nose. Likely a few fractured, if not also broken, ribs. If anything, he's getting off easy. Knox is circling David like a bear on a hunt ready to strike again. Myles and Cash are leaning against the wall as if they are already bored with this, although their interest seems to perk up when they take in Cara next to me.
"This is what happens when a man indebted to me runs from his responsibilities, Cara," I inform her. I turn and meet her gaze. "This is the kind of man I am."
She shakes her head. "No..." she says, but in her eyes, I see that she recognizes the truth. And as expected, there's horror there. No, I hadn't hurt her friend last night, but that was because I finally got the information I wanted. Had my plan failed and Leanna still refused to give up her brother, I would've done far worse than merely kidnap her and hold her captive.
"Yes," I state, looking Cara right in her eyes. "If you can't handle this..." I gesture toward David before turning back to her and stepping in front of her, cutting off the sight. I can feel my brothers' eyes on the back of my skull, sense their curiosity. I step forward as Cara backs up. A push and retreat. Until her spine hits the doorframe, and she has no other option but to look up at me and see the truth. "If you can't handle this," I repeat, lowering my voice in a whisper, "then perhaps you should run now... before I ensure you can't get away."
Cara's chest heaves beneath her shirt. Was it just last night that she was open to me? Carefree. Trusting. That fantasy has been shattered now. Her eyes hold fear and confusion. I wait for her reaction, and in another second, she gives it to me. Cara pushes me back with two hands, turns, and flees from the room, leaving me with a crater-sized hole in my chest and a bitter taste on the back of my tongue.