“What are you talking about?”
“I saw you with that man at the hospital. I know he was there the night I was attacked.”
A car pulls up beside us and the driver’s door pops open. Kayden curses, releasing one of my wrists to hold up his hand, silently telling our visitor to stay back. I tug against him again and take one look at the man who’s standing by the black sedan, and even in the rain, I know he’s the “friend” from the night of my attack. Certain I will have no chance if they double-team me, a rush of adrenaline overcomes me, and I jerk hard, the water working in my favor and loosening Kayden’s grip.
The instant I’m free, I turn and start running for the stairwell, torn about screaming, both desperate for the police to help and fearful they will expose me to Niccolo. I’m not even sure that Kayden isn’t Niccolo, or at least working for him. I wanted him to be a good man. I wanted to trust him, and even when he grabbed me just now, some part of me still did. Some part of me does, and it’s terrifying.
I hit the stairwell and a sensor triggers a lantern, a glow of light illuminating what is an alcove in front of the door, and now I scream. “Help! Help!” I stumble into the door and start pounding. Kayden is there then, turning me and pressing me into a corner.
“What is wrong with you?” he demands, water pouring off him and onto me.
My hand hits a holster under his jacket and my gaze drops to a gun he didn’t have before. I gasp, my gaze rocketing to his. “Is this where you kill me? At a church? Or are you going to take me somewhere else to do it?”
“The gun is to protect us. I saved you. I’m not here to kill you.”
“Maybe you saved me because you had to. Maybe someone saw you that night and you had no choice. Maybe you had to call an ambulance.”
His hands come down on my face. “There are a lot of things I want to do to you, Ella, but I promise you, killing you isn’t one of them.” His mouth slants over mine, his tongue delving deep, and I want to resist. I do. I try. But his lips are warm when mine are cold, and the taste of him, passion and fire, and yes, demand, burns through me, tempting me, taking me. And for just a moment, I can’t seem to help myself. I want to be possessed by this man. I want to be consumed, so I kiss him back. I kiss him like it’s my last kiss, because maybe it is.
I lean into him, wanting another second, another taste, but he tears his mouth from mine, and my hands are pressed to his chest, his heart racing as fast as mine, as he declares, “I’m a lot of things you won’t like, Ella, including the bastard who has wanted to fuck you since you opened your eyes and called me beautiful despite being in a hospital bed. But I will say it again. I’m not your enemy.”
I’m trembling, not from the cold, but the impact of his kiss. While I was lost in the moment, I have not lost touch with why I ran. “I want to believe you. But words and a kiss, no matter how beautiful you might be, aren’t enough when I’m fighting for survival.”
“As am I. We’re linked, Ella. I’m right here with you.”
Unbidden, the detective’s words play in my head—Kayden Wilkens does nothing, including you, without an agenda—and with them a bad thought hits me. “What’s to keep you from handing me over to Niccolo?”
“Me. I’m stopping me, and that’s the only answer I can give you.”
“How’s that supposed to make me feel safe?”
He presses his hands to the door on either side of me. “I hate Niccolo. I’d destroy him if I could.”
“Why?”
“My reasons don’t matter.”
“They do matter. And selling me would be self-preservation, which I believe you’re very good at.”
“Oh, I am, sweetheart, but I’m not giving you to Niccolo,” he vows, and the way he says the other man’s name is pure acid and hate.
“You hate Niccolo. Gallo hates you. You’re a man with enemies.”
“Wake up, Ella. Your enemies are mine.”
Footsteps sound on the stairwell behind him, and his “friend’s” voice cuts though the storm. Any bit of progress he might have made with me washes away. Kayden curses at the interruption, glancing over his shoulder and speaking to the man in Italian. I have a fleeting image of me with red hair, wearing goggles, while firing a gun. I know how to use a gun, and I reach for his. He grabs my hand. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“You’re full of shit, Kayden Wilkens,” I hiss. “You aren’t selling me to Niccolo? I don’t believe you. I know your ‘friend.’ And I know he was there the night I was attacked. You’re lying to me, and I won’t be kissed into stupidity. I might be alone and desperate, but I’m not that girl.”
“His name is Adriel Santaro and he works for me. And you’re right. He was there. He also has a sister who depends on him and could be used as a weapon against him or even me. The minute I found that matchbook, I sent him away before he ended up on the police report.”
Hope blossoms and expands in my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me he was there?”
“You don’t trust me, as you’ve proven by reaching for my gun. I wasn’t going to give you someone else to doubt.”
“And yet he was at the hospital.”
“I asked him to cover us while we left. A safety precaution I thought we needed.”