Elijah’s looking at me like he wants to eat me alive. His moss-green eyes are full of heat, to the point I wonder if anyone has ever looked at me like this before. I’m almost certain they haven’t, because surely I would remember my skin burning beneath someone’s gaze.
His eyes slowly drag down my body, taking in every inch, every curve he’s uncovered until they fall on my face again. His breathing has changed since he removed my dress, but I don’t comment on it, not wanting to break the spell he’s under.
The man who rules with an iron fist looks ready to fall to his knees in front of me.
Elijah swallows heavily, his hand whispering across my thigh, gliding across my stomach until his knuckle brushes across my hardened nipples. I wish I could blame the cold for how hard they are, but it’s not the temperature in the room that has my body humming. It’s the look in his eye and how tense his shoulders are underneath his suit. He’s barely holding on to control.
A small moan drops from my lips as his knuckle circles my other nipple. As much as I want to tell the man who holds my fate in his hands I’m not interested, that’s just not the case, especially after tonight.
I drag in a shaky breath, words I never thought I would say sitting at the tip of my tongue. Maybe it’s the trauma and fear from the night, or something else entirely, but my body screams at me to beg him to touch me, but I manage to swallow the words. If I’m going to make that choice, I’m going to do it with a clear mind.
The doorbell chimes through the house and tears our attention from each other. The spell we were under is broken, and Elijah immediately reaches for the shirt he dropped earlier and wastes no time slipping it over my head and helping my arms into it. Before I can say anything, he drops to his knees in front of me and carefully drags the shorts up my leg, tapping my thigh when he wants me to lift my ass. He reaches for the robe resting at the end of the bed and helps me to slip my arms in before wrapping it tightly around me and tying it around the waist.
I’ve never allowed anyone to dress me, not since I was a kid, but there’s something almost intimate about the moment. Maybe it’s the way we’re both breathing a little too heavy considering we’re doing such a menial task, or maybe it’s because ever since I opened my eyes, Elijah has been looking at me like his entire world begins and ends with me.
“The doctor is going to take a look at you and make sure you’re not injured.”
“I’m fine,” I whisper, not trusting my voice not to break.
“That may be, but I want to have a medical professional confirm that.”
Before I can respond, the door opens, and Mary appears in the doorway with a very angry Doc standing beside her. The man who I’ve known for years looks around the room with murderous intensity in his black eyes. When his stare falls on me, he seems to relax slightly, but that moment of calm is gone almost as quickly as it came when it lands on Elijah standing slightly in front of me, as if putting his body between me and a threat.
“What the fuck are you doing with her?” Doc thunders, taking long steps toward us until he towers over Elijah. He’s not a short man, not by any means being well over six foot, but Doc would tower over anyone. He’s six foot seven and made of pure muscle. Plus, he has the whole, covered in tattoos thing going on that adds to how intimidating he is.
“She’s mine,” Elijah manages through gritted teeth. He’s barely holding on to his composure, and something tells me if one more person questions our relationship, if that’s what you want to call it, he’s going to snap.
Doc’s eyes flare with anger and in the blink of an eye, he’s dropped his medical bag and wrapped his fist around Elijah’s throat. “What’s your game here, Russo?” he growls.
“Doc,” I whisper, curling my legs underneath me on the bed. I’m trying not to focus on the fact I’m in Elijah’s bedroom for the first time and his sheets smell like him. If I allow myself to focus too hard on that, I’m at risk of melting into a puddle and never moving again.
His eyes snap to mine, the intensity of the blackness almost makes me flinch, but I remain perfectly still.
“Elijah and I are dating. We have been for about a month,” the lie slips from my tongue with such ease that I almost believe it myself. It’s not as if I’ve spent much time practicing, but for some reason, the words are easy right now.
Doc doesn’t loosen his grip on Elijah’s neck, and I’m surprised to find my captor watching me closely. Not because he’s telling me to tell the lies he’s forcing me to live, but because he didn’t expect me to defend him.
“Doc, please,” I murmur.
He watches me for a moment, looking for the lie in my words, and I hold my breath. He’s going to see right through us. He’s going to realize I don’t want this, or at least, I didn’t want this. But tonight has me second-guessing myself and second-guessing everything I thought I knew.
Slowly, Doc releases his grip on Elijah, never tearing his eyes from me. Maybe he’s still looking for the lie, or perhaps there’s something else here that I don’t understand. One of the only things I know about the man is that he hates the Russo family with a burning passion, and I think it’s safe to say that hatred extends to Elijah.
“What happened?” he asks.
“A man held me at gunpoint and Elijah threw himself on me to protect me.” My eyes dart to the man in question, but he’s not wearing the smugness I expect. “I’m fine, but my overprotective boyfriend over there wanted to make sure.” I scoff more at the word I used to describe Elijah than anything else. The word boy and the ruthless man who took me from my life shouldn’t find themselves in the same sentence, but what else am I supposed to call him?
“How the fuck did a man with a gun get near you?” Doc snaps, his attention turning back to Elijah. “She shouldn’t be here if you can’t keep her safe.”
“Storm and I both had teams at the restaurant,” Elijah grinds out, barely containing the rage hovering beneath the surface. “He shouldn’t have got anywhere near her, but our current theory is he came through the kitchen.”
I reach for Doc’s arm, careful to make sure he sees the movement coming. I’ve made that mistake before and found myself pinned to a wall, winded from the force he slammed me into it with. Something in his past made him averse to unseen touches, and I’ve never been in a place to pry. “He saved me, Doc. He threw himself in front of a bullet for me. Cut him some slack.” I never thought I would defend Elijah Russo, but here we are.
He lets out an annoyed huff before turning his full attention on me, blocking the other man from his eye line. “Okay, let’s have a look at you.”
It’s an hour before Doc leaves, convinced I’m not badly hurt and that Elijah isn’t going to change that the moment he walks out the door. When the two men leave the room, heading for the front of the house, I push myself to my feet and pad across to the door. Now he knows I’m okay, I’m sure he’ll want me to go back to my room. He wouldn’t have decorated it exactly like my room at the estate if he didn’t intend for that to be my home while I’m here.
As soon as I step over the threshold and I’m no longer enveloped by his scent, I miss it. His masculine smell calms me, and when it no longer surrounds me, some of the panic returns. I could have been shot tonight. I could have died. I’ve been so worried about Elijah keeping me away from my family that it never occurred to me that my life has been in constant danger since the day I was born.
I’m distracted as I trudge back toward my lonely room, my prison, and more than ever before, I crave my siblings. I was never alone growing up, but that’s all I ever am now. All by myself in this huge house, and that’s the life that waits for me as well.
An arm hooks around my waist and tugs me back into a hard body. I let out a surprised squeak, but panic doesn’t grow as I expect it to.
“Where do you think you’re going, my little Snowflake?” Elijah breathes against the shell of my ear.
“Going back to my room,” I whisper into the dark hallway, the only light coming from his room behind us.
“Your room is back the way you came.”
My body stills. What the fuck is he talking about? Is he taking away the only refuge I have here? The only piece of home I have in the prison I’ll be locked in for the rest of my life?
