“Because my enemies and what they and I do to one another make whatever happened back in there look like child's play. Now, no more questions until we’re home.”
I quicky guide her to my car, a sleek black Mercedes that blends in quite a bit better than the limo I had sent for Skye the day before. I let go of her long enough to open the passenger door, watching her out of my peripheral to make sure she doesn’t bolt, and I’m satisfied to see the way she hesitates, but ultimately stays next to me. She’s already starting to accept that we aren’t meant to be separated, and her tacit acquiescence is more than I could have hoped for.
I take her hand, which is cold and clammy, and help her down into the low vehicle. No one has stopped us yet, and besides a potential snapshot of my retreating back, we are still anonymous as far as I can tell.
Once I’ve shut the door and it’s just the two of us in the Mercedes, I let out a slow breath, grabbing Skye’s knee for just a second to assure myself she’s really there. Knocking her boss out was such a small thing, but it still threw me right back into the headset of the killer that I once was. That I still am, I guess, and more than anything I’m afraid that part of me will make this beautiful girl that I’ve only just been able to find after all these years look at me differently. As if I’m not good enough for her…which I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to give her up, either. I just have to hope that she accepts me. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long few weeks of her coming to terms with it.
Skye lets me touch her, but she's rattled, looking around the car as if something is going to jump out and bite her. “I live on Fourth street,” she tells me, “In the Blue Fin apartment complex. Building B.”
I nod. “I’ll send some of my staff to collect your things.”
Skye whips her head around to look at me. “What do you mean? You said you were taking me home.”
“Ah, no, sweetheart, I said we weregoinghome. As in my home.”And yours, too, you just don’t know it yet.
“Oh no, no, no,” she laughs nervously, “That is not happening.”
“It is, Skye, and there’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise. He may be a sniveling coward, but I sense the possibility of violence and retaliation in that man. It’s safer for you to stay with me for some time.”
“A possibility of violence!? You shook him around like a ragdoll!”
“Yes, but whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, he assaulted you first. And from the defeated look that I saw on your face, it wasn’t the first time either, was it?”
Skye looks at her feet. “No…”
“And he has your address, right? Because he’s your employer.”
“Yes,” she all but whispers.
“You will not be a victim as long as I’m around,” I promise, temper flaring from her admission. He could have gone to her home any number of nights, watched her through the windows…fuck. “Not ever again.”
My voice is hot and angry, and I see her shrink into herself. I hate that she’s afraid, but if that’s what it takes to get her to fall in line for the time being, then so be it.
My life before Tenerife was a violent, blood-soaked nightmare to say the least, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t good at what I did, or that it didn’t allow me to gather an impressive amount of wealth. The villa I purchased is the perfect example of how my career paid off. It’s perched on a low cliff overlooking the sea, a winding staircase carved into the stone wall of the cliff and leading down to a private, sugar sand beach.
As is the style in the area, my sprawling residence is only two stories, but makes up for it with floor space, the half-moon shaped Mediterranean tile terrace taking up more space than most normal apartments. The home itself is as white as snow with a red-brown terracotta tile roof, and gardens of bright flowers and tall palms surround the place. For me, a man that has lived most of my life in the darkness of alleyways and underground hideouts, it’s an almost painfully bright paradise, and I’m still having trouble adjusting, much to the amusement of my local household staff. The hired security I brought with me from Italy, though, has been thrown through just as much of a loop as I have.
As Skye gets her first glimpse of the villa, it’s like she temporarily forgets that she’s pissed off, and she opens the car door herself, stepping out with her mouth slightly agape. I smirk to myself. She’s impressed, which means that the astronomical amount of money I spent on the place was more than worth it.
“You like it?” I ask, sliding up next to her and looping my arm around her waist. Instinctually, she leans into me, but stiffens when she notices what she's doing.
“It’s lovely, but…you still need to take me home, Raoul. We…we barely know each other! I can’t stay here.”
“Don’t you trust me?’ I ask her seriously.
“That’s not fair,” she responds, crossing her arms and looking petulant. If I wasn’t feeling so volcanic, it might be cute. “I trust you. It’s just, you know, it’s not like I can pretend that we actually know one another.”
“Skye, I assure you I know you quite well.” I want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her inside, but I have to calm myself. If I handle her too roughly, I might fuck this all up. “Let’s sit all of that aside and let me give you a tour. What do you think?”
She nibbles at her bottom lip, looking out over the sea and the late morning light twinkling on the waves. I remember how she told me her soul had craved a place like this since she was a child, these still slightly wild utopias, and there’s no denying my villa lets her be that much closer to her heart's desire. Much more than a little crackerbox of an apartment. When the sun begins to set and the white walls of the house take on the same orange and pink cast as the rest of the world, it can almost seem like the villa is part of the island itself. It’s where she belongs, and she knows it. Syke just has to allow herself to accept it.
“Well…”
“How do you take your coffee,Tesorina? I’ll have my housekeeper make you a cup while I show you around.”
“Two sugars and cream.” She closes her eyes and exhales. “Fine. Show me around. But this really isn’t a healthy start to a relationship, though.”
I don’t acknowledge her complaint, taking out my phone to send a quick message to my head of security while she walks up the driveway.