I spend the evening pacing around Samuel’s home, barely able to hold a single thought in my head.
No matter what I do, the image of Tiffany lying in the hospital bed keeps flashing in my mind—bruised, broken, barely able to speak, painfully uttering Misha’s threats in an attempt to protect me.
I poured myself a glass of wine, hoping it might take the edge off but after one sip, I’d set it down.
I eventually try putting on some random show for background noise, but my eyes keep darting to the clock, counting the minutes until Samuel gets home, late as it might be.
By the time I hear the door, I’m practically vibrating with pent-up energy.
He steps inside, looking like he’s been through the wringer. His shirt is wrinkled, his shoulders slumped, and his hair’s a little mussed, like he’s been running his hands through it all day.
Exhausted as he appears, the second his eyes meet mine his gaze softens. And damn it, even at his worst, this man is stupidly handsome. All the worries I’d been freaking out about for the last ten hours vanish, if only for just a moment.
He’s kind of magical like that.
“Hey,” I say, crossing the room quickly.
He places his hands on my hips in that way I’m starting to love, holding me in place. His touch is perfect. Then he pulls back and looks me up and down.
“Why the hell are you still up?” He checks his watch.
“Got a lot on my mind.” That’s barely the half of it.
He nods. “Yeah, you’re tense. How’re you holding up?”
I brush off the question with a quick smile. “I’m fine,” I lie. “But you’re not. You look wiped. Let me draw you a bath.”
He looks me over again, suspicion in his eyes. No doubt he knows I’m hiding how I really feel.
“Only if you’re getting in with me.”
His words hit like a jolt, sending my mind straight into a fantasy that’s impossible to shake.
“You alright over there?” he asks as I come back to the moment.
I smile. “I’m fine. Just thinking about how nice our bath sounds.”
“Come on.”
He gives my ass a quick, playful swat as we head down the hallway. That gets a laugh out of me, the first laugh in a long while, it seems.
The fantasy returns as we walk to the bathroom. In my head, his lips trail down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as his hands guide me into a slow, maddening rhythm.
I imagine him taking one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking it gently as I run my hand through his hair. Every thrust would be deep and slow, sending waves of pleasure through me, the water sloshing around us as we get completely lost in each other.
The thought leaves me flushed, my breath catching for a split second before reality crashes back in and my mind returns to Tiffany, Kailee, and Erica.
And Misha.
I stop walking and take a step back, my arms crossing over my chest as I look Samuel in the eye. “Before we can enjoy any sexy time, I need to tell you something.”
His smirk fades instantly, replaced by concern. “What is it?”
I pull in a breath, steadying myself. “It’s about Tiffany. Something she told me earlier.”
He’s instantly on high alert. “Tell me.”
I uncross my arms and drop them, my hands fidgeting at my sides before I force them to still. “Misha sent her to deliver a message, just as I suspected,” I say. “He not only knows where I work, but he also knows about us.” My voice quiets slightly on the last word, and his jaw flexes, the muscle twitching once before stilling again. “He said Kailee and Erica are next if I don’t pay him a visit.”
Samuel’s entire body tenses. For a brief moment, I think he might slam his fist into the wall. I can see it in his face—the way his jaw sets, his lips pressing into a hard line.
But it’s his eyes that change the most.
In that moment, he becomes someone dark.
“What else?”
I swallow hard but keep going. “Tiffany begged me to protect myself, but this isn’t just about me anymore.”
For a long time he doesn’t say anything. His gaze shifts slightly, his eyes darkening as if the weight of my words is dragging him to a place I’m not sure I want him to go.
His silence stretches, and the tension in the room becomes almost unbearable.
He finally speaks. “He threatened you. Threatened them.”
It’s a cold, deadly statement.
“Yes.”
I can almost read his thoughts in those moments, thoughts of ripping apart Misha limb-from-limb.
“I’ll kill him,” he growls. “I’ll go to that damn strip club right now and—”
“Stop.” I cut him off before he can finish. I place a hand on his arm, forcing him to look at me. “You know that’s exactly what he wants. He’s dangerous. You can’t just storm in there. In fact, I bet that’s the exact thing he’s hoping for.”
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I think he might argue. But then he exhales sharply, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction as logic seems to return.
“You’re right. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and do nothing.”
“I know,” I say, my hand sliding down his arm to squeeze his hand. “But we can’t be reckless about this. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
A beat of silence follows, as if he’s still entertaining the idea of storming Misha’s club and ripping his head off. “I promise.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“We’ll handle this, together. I don’t want you to worry. You’re with me, and I’m going to make sure nothing happens to you. Not you, or Kailee, or Erica. But you have to promise me you’re not going to go rogue and do something stupid either.”
“Deal,” I say, holding his gaze. “No stupid moves.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve already called Erica,” I tell him. “She’s terrified after what happened to Tiff. She said she’s leaving town.”
Samuel nods. “And Kailee?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of her. I’ve called and texted, but nothing.”
His jaw tightens again, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. “I’ve got a couple of buddies on the force,” he says. “I’ll reach out, see if they can track her down. If she’s in trouble, we’ll find her. And when we find her, I’ll make sure she’s protected.”
His words bring me a bit of relief, but I’m still worried. “Do you think we should go to the police about Misha?” I ask. “If you’ve got friends in the Denver PD…”
Samuel shakes his head, his expression thoughtful and concerned. “Not yet. It’s one thing to tap a few cop buddies to track someone down. Bringing Misha to their attention is another matter altogether. Reporting this could make things worse, make him do something rash. We need to be smart about this until we know Kailee is safe.”
He’s right, of course, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. The idea of doing nothing while Misha continues to threaten the people I care about makes my skin crawl and my blood boil.
But I know Samuel is playing the long game, and I trust him to figure this out.
I release a long breath I didn’t even realize I was holding in. I feel a little bit of the weight in my chest lift. I know the situation with Misha is far from over, but for now, I’ll take what I can get. Moments like this make me feel hopeful.
“Now, get your gorgeous ass in that bathroom,” he says.
“Gladly.”
