ALARIC: Are you still home?
SAINT: Yeah, just about to head to the UFC prelims with Nico. Why?
ALARIC: Paisley hasn’t been picking up for the past three hours. It’s not like her. I’m worried, but can’t leave work… Would you mind just knocking on the door to make sure she’s okay? I have this feeling something happened and it’s fucking with me.
Reading the text twice over, my heart drops at the last sentence.
Shit.
“Saint!” Nico violently claps his hands together, averting my attention to him. He’s standing by his Star motorbike in my driveway, dressed in his signature Harley T-shirt, dark jeans, and faded biker boots. “Hurry up, man!”
Nico and I made a pit stop at my house after work before we’re set to go to watch the UFC prelims, before the main card event that is set to be one of the most anticipated UFC fights on the calendar. Alaric was supposed to tag along, but he had a work shift to cover at the hospital. But right now, after this text from him, I couldn’t care less about who’s playing who.
“Give me a second,” I call back to Nico, locking my front door and jogging down the porch steps with tense shoulders. The key of my Maserati grows warm in my tight grip as I furiously reply to my best friend.
SAINT: On it, man.
“Who the fuck are you texting?”
Grinding my jaw, I don’t even look up from my phone. “Wait, Nico.”
ALARIC: Shit, thank you, Saint. I owe you big time. Let me know if she’s okay.
SAINT: Will do.
“We’re going to miss the damn fight, Saint. Come on and—”
“One second, Nico!”
I pull up Paisley’s contact and send her a short text.
SAINT: Hey. Everything okay?
No response.
Just ‘delivered’. Fucking ‘delivered’.
“Saint! Come on, man. Let’s gooooo! We’re going to be fucking late!”
“I don’t give a fuck! I said WAIT A SECOND!” I growl, meeting his chaotic gaze in frustration.
Nico’s glare may have the power to kill, but it doesn’t work on me. Not now. In this moment, I don’t give a shit about his impatience, or that we may miss the first round of the fight he’s been anticipating for months or the fact he’s fuming with flared nostrils, I need to make sure Paisley’s okay.
Sliding my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, I storm toward Alaric’s house.
Nico ticks his jaw. “What the hell are you going there for?”
“Need to check on Paisley. Alaric’s worried. She hasn’t been returning his calls all evening.”
“Paisley?” he mocks, bursting into laughter behind me. “You fucking losing it or something? You’re telling me we’re going to be late because of some chick not answering her phone?”
“I don’t give a shit about missing the fight. I need to make sure Paisley’s okay. Don’t like it?” I taunt, turning around to face Nico’s clearly pissed off expression. “Too fucking bad.”
“You fucking bastard! It took me months to get these tickets!”
I halt by my best friend’s front door and glare back at Nico, who’s just a few steps behind me. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a deep breath. “Nico, do not test me today.”
My fists vigorously knock on the wood oak. “Paisley? Paisley, it’s me. Saint.”
Nico scoffs, shaking his head to himself. “Why do you care about her so much? She ain’t our responsibility. She’s Alaric’s. You’ve sacrificed a whole fucking lot to still be breathing. Don’t fuck it up now for a woman who doesn’t want to be saved. Screw your fucking balls on, man up, and let’s forget about this girl.”
I stare straight through Nico, through his complexities and that little dark place in his heart I know so well and it’s pissing me off. Every time I hear Paisley’s name from another man’s mouth that isn’t her father’s, I want to pounce. I don’t know why, but she doesn’t merit the way she’s being talked about. They don’t know her like I do. They don’t understand her like I do.
Dio mio.
The fact I just admitted that… well, it shows that maybe Nico is right. I do care.
Snarling, I grip the collar of his T-shirt and shove him back. “My balls are perfectly screwed on, thank you. It’s your heart I’m worried about and just how ruthless you can be toward a woman who has lost it all. She’s Alaric’s daughter, have a little respect.”
Nico rubs his chin, our eyes burning straight through each other as he adjusts his T-shirt. “Fine, get it over with then. We’ve got shit to do. Can’t wait all night for a woman who doesn’t want to be saved.”
My eyes narrow down on the front door. “Maybe she’s… stressed.”
“Good, she should be. Teach her a fucking lesson for making me late to a fight. I don’t want to miss the damn prelims.”
Selfish fucker.
“Easy now. The aim isn’t to scare her.”
“Bullshit.”
I glare at Nico.
“Fine, if you understand her as much as you say you do, get her to open up the door.”
I will.
I turn back to the front door and slide my hand up the door again. I care about her. When the hell did that happen? A long time ago, Lisconti, you confirmed it the night you told Paisley you couldn’t stop thinking about her and meant every single world.
Dio… I’m so done if Alaric finds out about all this.
“Paisley?” Inhaling a deep breath, my fingers form a fist and I knock on the door. “Paisley… I know you’re in there. I’m not going to hurt you. I just… I just want to make sure you’re okay. Your father’s worried and so am I. Please, Paisley. I never say fuckin’ please, but I need to know you’re okay. I know you’re listening.”
Once again, silence greets me on the other side of the door, yet a visual invades my mind. One where Paisley is on the other side of the door, her forehead pressed against it and fingers brushing against the door handle, too frazzled to twist it open.
That’s just it… she’s stressed.
Stressed.
“Wildflower, it’s just me,” I murmur against the door, pressing my hand against it this time and imagining her synchronizing and doing the same. A small smile pulls on my lips, one I’m not proud of, but push through nonetheless at what I’m about to do… or rather say. “Okay. Marigolds. Go ahead, tell me, Paisley. Tell me everything you know about marigolds. I want to know.”
It’s nearing 6:00 p.m. and as glowing orange and red smear the sunset sky and birds chirping in the distance fill the white noise, I glance over my shoulder at Nico’s pressed lips. My head snaps back to the door when I swear I hear something… a bump or scratch against the door. It’s silent for the longest time and I’m about to pull out my phone to call Alaric when that soft, trembling voice douses my soul in relief.
“Marigolds,” Paisley murmurs through the door. “Marigolds ca-can be either orange or gold in color. They thrive in full sun and heat. My grandmother… she used to call them the devil’s flower. They symbolize a lust for success and prosperity and can be used in textiles. Commonly, they are used when… when grieving somebody you love dies, or… celebrating those who have passed.”
At her last couple words, the door clicks unlocked and opens wide. Everything inside me comes to a screeching halt the second Paisley steps forward from behind the door and faces me.
Slowly, her gaze moves up until those anxious honey-brown eyes meet mine and her hair falls away from her beautiful face, revealing pinkish-red blotches around her neck. The sides of her neck are even more concerning, with thicker and taller purplish blotches, as if they were thumb imprints. It’s almost as if her neck has been… as if somebody tried to… FUCK.
“Who the fuck did this to you, Paisley?” Despite my flared nostrils, clenched jaw, and anger bubbling inside my blood, I manage to speak softly and stay calm for her. “Who the fuck hurt you because I swear to God I’ll kill ’em with my bare hands.”
The way she’s looking at me, the hope in her stare, I don’t know what to do with it.
“Paisley,” I breathe, taking a step forward, but she takes one back.
Shit.
“You’re staring,” she sniffles, her voice a touch huskier than usual as if it’s been strained. Her eyes thin as tears brim in them. “I know I look hideous.”
“No, wildflower,” I whisper, gulping down thickly. “No, I’m not staring… I’m…”
Paisley shakes her head and slaps a hand to her mouth to hide her sob. The second she turns to leave, I pull my head out of my ass and gently wrap my fingers around her wrist. The action draws her back to me. Her glassy eyes lift to mine and despite all my rage for whoever did this to her, I manage to shoot her a soft smile.
I don’t wait for Paisley’s reaction or permission. Instead, I tug her to my chest, no questions asked, and pull her into a warm embrace. I guide her arms around my neck as if it’s automatic and she holds onto me so damn tightly. It breaks me to see her sobbing into my chest as I pull her closer to me in a bear hug. My arms wrap around her, one by her petite waist and the other across her shoulder blades as I lower my head into the crook of her neck, keeping a little distance from her soft, blemished skin in case she’s feeling any pain.
“You’re safe now, Paisley. You’re safe. Whatever did happen, I’m going to make sure it never happens again and be there for you. I’m going to fucking be there for you and if they want to get to you again, they need to get through me first. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore,” I whisper softly in her ear, preventing Nico from hearing a word. “I promise.”
I’ve never held somebody this damn intimately before. It isn’t just a comforting hug; it’s clinging onto each other for dear life. A guilty fucking hug with both her father and Nico circling my mind. But I don’t care what Nico may be thinking right now. It’s the same reason I shut my eyes and ignore everything else but her… I don’t want to know.
This embrace changes me. As I breathe in Paisley’s sweet jasmine scent it should bother me after everything in my life, but it’s the only thing that calms me down and relaxes my body, like a devil embracing the gates of hell. Right now, I want to break away from Lucifer and be the saint my mother intended me to be.
I want Paisley to know I’ll never hurt her like the person who attacked her did. In this moment, I want to be everything Paisley Reign needs, but I don’t know how.
“You’re beautiful, Paisley,” I murmur, meaning every single word. “So fucking beautiful. And nobody can take that away from you, not mentally, not physically, not in your heart. You hear me? You’re beautiful.”
“You really mean that?”
“You know me, Pais, I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”
She cries harder, which only prompts me to hug her tighter.
As his boots slap down beside us on the wooden porch, I hear the scoff in Nico’s judgmental voice without even having to see it as he rounds me and whispers in my ear, “Hug all your best friend’s daughters like that, Saint? Alaric would have you in the fucking gutter.”
I blink my eyes open and flip him off with the hand around Paisley’s shoulder blades.
“Fuck off,” I mouth, and he throws his head back in mocking laughter before disappearing down the hall.
Breathe. Just breathe, Lisconti.
Nico isn’t going to tell Alaric anything.
Alaric asked you to be here for her. This isn’t wrong.
For a second, I concentrate on the frantic beating inside my chest. It’s beating this hard because of her. Because of the slightest touch from her. Fuckkk. This is so wrong.
I remain outside with Paisley until she settles down. When I attempt to step back, she’s the one holding me closer this time. “Wait,” she whispers, “I like it like this. I feel… safe.”
I feel safe.
It dawns on me that I shouldn’t be the one allowing her to feel this type of way. It shouldn’t be me, it should be some other guy who’s able to gift her the entire world and the stars while he’s at it—I can’t give her that. I can’t give her half the things she thinks I can.
But I can’t help myself from wanting to be that guy so badly right now.
“Can I ask you something, Saint?”
“Mhmmm.”
Paisley pauses for a moment before saying, “How do you know about marigolds?”
Her question brings a small chuckle to my lips, one I haven’t let out in a long time. “Yeah, I’m definitely not telling you that.”
Still wrapped in each other, we pull our heads back until our eyes meet. I look into her reddened eyes from crying and draw my lips closer to her cheeks and kiss her tears away. I can’t control it, can’t help but cherish her warm skin against my lips, knowing she’s going to be all right.
When I’m done, my lips move down to her neck and brush over the blotches on her soft, delicate skin. Her breath hitches, turning into a soft moan as I shut my eyes and trail my lips over every area of blemished skin and blotches, knowing very well that if whoever did this to her isn’t dead by now, they will be very soon.
I kiss away the pain, slowly pressing my lips over every inch of her skin as if my touch has the ability to repair her. Heal her. Mend her. I wish it did. I wish this never happened. I wish she had called me.
“I thought you weren’t the kind of man to kiss and tell.”
That has me pulling away and smirking down at her “And I thought big girls don’t cry.”
A slight smile cracks on her lips and I’m happy I’m the one who brought it there. Even if it’s small, it’s something. “Oh my God, shut up!”
Yeah, she’s definitely feeling like her old self now.
“Come on, let’s get inside and talk this through.”
“Okay.”
As I step in behind her and shut the front door, I shoot Alaric a quick message that she’s home and that he needs to get home ASAP. I know I should tell him about the blotches on her neck via text, but it’s better to hold off until he gets here to prevent him from getting into a pile-up on the way home. Besides, he’s a doctor and can assess her here, seeing as she’s okay now.
As selfish as it is and as fucked up as it sounds, I want to be the one Paisley confides in first. I want to take the pain away. I want to be the one to hold her again tightly, as if the world is ending and all that is left is one single touch and a lifetime of memories in the forms of poetry and flowers.
Nico awaits our arrival in the living room, already helping himself to a glass of whiskey. He’s already taken a seat on the left side of the studded cream three-seater couch. Although it’s a similar layout to mine and the design is flipped, I’ve always loved the extra touches in Alaric and Paisley’s house. Stepping inside it feels like home. It’s cozy and contemporary filled with natural woods, light colors, and vibrant art pieces.
I take a seat beside Nico on the couch, while Paisley settles into a matching studded linen blend armchair.
“I thought this could help me feel better,” Paisley mumbles shyly, almost more to herself than to anyone else as she picks up a floral tea mug from the coffee table. She does so as if she needs to explain herself, but she doesn’t. Paisley could do anything and it would be perfect.
My eyes stay on her plump, heart-shaped lips as she takes a sip. I swallow thickly the second she draws the mug to rest on her crossed legs as her pink, glistening tongue runs over her lower lip to collect a stray tea drop. Fuck. The visual drives me wild and takes me to another dimension. One I know I shouldn’t be in because of how forbidden we would be. And yet, I can’t take my eyes away from that gorgeous mouth of hers.
This is what it must feel like to be between both heaven and hell.
What the hell? What the fuck am I saying?
Paisley’s too fucking good for me. She’s completely off-limits, too young for me and most importantly, I don’t do love. Yet these thoughts… Dio.
“You want to feel better? Well, you should ask Saint for some remedies.” Nico coldly smirks, leaning back on the couch. “He’ll happily supply.”
My eyes practically budge out of my sockets. For. The. Love. Of. God. Nico.
“Shut it down, Nico,” I grit.
“Oh, come on. You used to sell them, don’t shy away now.”
“You know I don’t sell them anymore.”
“But you did. Sure you don’t have a few stashes hidden away?”
I grind my jaw, remaining silent as Paisley turns to me and says, “What are remedies?”
I know I need to answer honestly. She isn’t a kid anymore. She’s eighteen, a woman, and I can’t sugarcoat this shit, no matter how badly I want to. This is a side of me not even Alaric knows about, and I wanted to keep it that way, especially around Paisley, but of course Nico’s enjoying busting my balls a little too much and has pushed me to tell her the truth.
“Pills I used to produce… during a low time in my life, before boxing,” I explain, rubbing my hands together. “Increased energy pills.”
“Oh,” she whispers innocently, “That’s… not too bad.”
“They were coated with Molly,” Nico smugly interjects.
Fuck me.
“What’s that?” Paisley’s question has me side-eyeing Nico, who grins.
Letting out a controlled sigh, I lay it all out on the table for her. “It’s also known as Ecstasy.” She continues to stare at me blankly and so I clarify it even more, rubbing the nape of my neck with how ashamed I am at this. This is a part of my past I’ve buried and forgotten. “MDMA. It’s a psychoactive drug. Remedies for people craving an escape… until you’re arrested for taking or possessing an illegal substance. Never happened to me, but…”
“Oh.” Paisley’s mouth drops open in a wide ‘O’ and she shakes her head. “No, thanks.”
“No, thanks, what’s that?” Nico mocks with a scoff. “Shit, didn’t know Alaric’s girl was so damn gullible. Told you we should have just gone to the fight tonight, man. We’re going to be late!”
“Oh, are you talking about that UFC fight that my dad was supposed to come along with too?” Paisley asks in confusion.
“Hey!” Nico growls, unexpectedly slamming his fist on the coffee table, and Paisley jumps in her seat. As good as my reflexes are, the bang scared the shit out of me too. My heart’s in my fucking throat. Fuck, man. “No questions. Understand?” he continues in an uncalled-for grit. “If we ask you something, you open that pretty mouth of yours. If not, it remains chained shut, got it?”
Frightful eyes snap my way. Paisley clenches her fists and looks down at her tea, blinking away tears. I glance toward Nico with narrowed brows and raise my arms out to the side as if to say, ‘What the hell happened to not scaring the shit out of her?’
I see the redness on her neck, see the petrified fear in her eyes, the insecurities, and instead of saying what I would have said to anybody else that wasn’t her—which would have been, ‘answer him’—I find myself taking it out on him.
“Nico, tone it down.”
Paisley’s eyes widen as she looks up at me. “No, it’s okay. I got it, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for his behavior. If your father were here, they would be at it.”
“What?” Nico scoffs at me. “You my dad now or something, Saint?”
He hits a sensitive wound and he freaking knows it. My father. Yet right here in front of Paisley, I’m forced to just shut my mouth with a tense jaw. Nico and I have the stare down of the century before I turn back to Paisley.
Pushing forward on the couch, I lean closer to her with my hands clasped. “Can you tell us what happened? Why didn’t you answer your dad’s calls? He was going batshit crazy.”
Paisley’s gorgeous eyes drop to my hands. “Because I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I promise I am.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I can’t tell anybody about it. If I do, then…”
“You can tell me. I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened.”
Nico groans beside me. “For fuck’s sake. We’ll never make it now.”
Paisley sucks in a deep breath, her gaze flickering between Nico and me before it lands on me. “Okay, fine. I was walking home from school and didn’t notice a group from school walking behind me. One of the guys followed me to the front door and made a comment. At first, I ignored him, but he made it impossible for me not to retaliate with some of the things he was saying…”
“Who’s the guy?”
She swallows hard. “Remember that Erik guy I was talking about a few days ago?”
“Mhmmm.”
I feel Nico’s eyes on me.
“Well, it was him and a few of his friends… and his girlfriend. But Erik was the instigator. In fact, the others just watched on.”
Fucker. He’ll get what’s coming his way.
Paisley clears her throat and continues the story and when she gets to the part regarding Erik choking her and her blacking out when he left, my heart practically falls out of my chest. I feel bad. So fucking bad. Because while Paisley was clinging to life, I was at my work training a new group in self-defense; completely oblivious to everything and it’s so fucking ironic now. She explains how she only came to about five minutes after blacking out, all paranoid and beaded in sweat. She didn’t go to the hospital out of fear Erik would find her first, and too nervous to pick up her father’s latest calls because she could barely speak, and even if she could, didn’t know what to say. I know Paisley. I know she wants the minimal attention her way. It’s why she didn’t reach out for help.
The entire thing makes me sick to my stomach.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry this happened to you. I really am,” I admit. “After you update your father, we should go to the police with this. I don’t give a fuck who this Erik thinks he is. He can’t taunt you and treat you like this.”
“No,” she pleads, shaking her head adamantly. “No. I don’t want to go to the police.”
“It’s one of the few options here.”
Paisley opens her mouth to say something, but then her eyes land on Nico and she shuts it again.
Falling back onto the couch, I nod. “Ask it.”
“If you help me, what’s in it for you?”
“A good deed. It’s what your father would want too. I know a guy down at a nearby precinct. It’ll be quick and easy. I promise.”
Paisley gulps down but doesn’t say a word. The second those honey-brown eyes meet mine, I have an idea of what’s running through them to make her so skeptical. She’s scared. Conflicted. Doesn’t want to reach out to the police, fearing Erik will strike again.
“Okay, we can go about this another way,” I say after moments of dead silence between us and lean forward, my forearms pressing against my thighs. “You can let me deal with it personally. No police or reports need to be involved.”
“What do you mean by you dealing with it…?”
“You don’t want to know, Pais. Just know I’ll make sure Erik doesn’t fuck with you again. It’ll just stay between you, Nico, and me… and your father as well, of course. I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to teach this dick a lesson.”
Paisley’s eyes widen a fraction and I feel as though everything I’m saying is beginning to click for her. She shakes her head softly, setting down her tea mug on the coffee table, and leans forward, closer to me. “No, no. I don’t want anybody to get hurt. I know what you’re capable of, Saint, I’ve seen it. I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want any more violence. I just don’t want Erik to glance my way ever again. That’s all.”
My lips twist. “So, then what happens when the same shit happens again but inside a classroom after class? Or in a secluded area next week during finals week? What happens when the fucker attacks somebody who’s defenseless or somebody who doesn’t have a support system? Erik needs to be taught a lesson, Paisley. You don’t need to be worrying about the next time. Trust me when I say your dad, Nico, and I will help you. I want to help you and if I were you, I would take it, no questions asked.”
“I want to know how far you’ll go.”
Till the freaking death.
“Enough with the fuckin’ questions,” Nico hisses. “Just let us help you and that’s it.”
Paisley has bottled up her frustration well until now but explodes at Nico’s comment. I witness her fists balling tighter as she snaps her attention to him. Her small peeks of confidence are coming back, burning up like a firecracker awaiting to explode… only it just did, all over Nico’s fucking face. Ha!
“If you don’t like it, get out of my property!”
Nico scoffs. “What did you say to me? Think you can snap orders and I’ll just do it?”
“Yes,” Paisley grits back.
Nico lets out a cold chuckle and rises to his feet. “Well, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Good, because I don’t want to.” Paisley stands up and struts up to him. Jaw tight, she glares up at him. “There’s a little thing called respect and I think you should learn it, Nico.”
I know Paisley, but I know Nico just the same. Just because he’s mutual friends with her father doesn’t mean he’ll lighten up for her. The moment Nico grinds his jaw and steps closer to her until not even a gap can save him, I launch up from my seat.
“Nico, back off,” I warn.
Nico doesn’t take his eyes off her as he sneers, “Or what?”
Paisley huffs and walks past him, strutting down the hallway to open the front door. Then she turns to face us again and gestures toward him. “I want you to leave, Nico.”
“Good luck getting me out, sweetheart.”
“You heard her, get the fuck out, man!” I growl, my jaw tense. “Just because Alaric isn’t here doesn’t mean you treat her with disrespect, you asshole. Especially not after what she just bravely told us.”
Nico’s eyes meet mine and his jaw ticks when all I do is glare. Eventually, he raises his hands and strides toward Paisley, who steps back against the hallway. I launch forward, prepared to show the motherfucker out myself, when he holds up a hand, signaling something in the lines of ‘it’s all good’… But it isn’t. Not as he snarls the following words to her, “You’re lucky I’m a considerate man.”
What the fuck is wrong with him?
Nico then glances at me. “I’m fucking leaving and heading to the match. Coming?”
I shake my head, too fired up to say anything because it will end up with Nico sporting a black eye, and he isn’t who I’m here for.
“Your loss,” he mumbles under his breath and leaves.
Paisley continues holding the door open, her pained eyes all glassy, and yet she stands in victory, head up strong with her mouth pierced shut. She’s trying to keep it together. Trying to stay strong. She snapped, and when Paisley Reign snaps, she stands her ground and means exactly what she says. This much I know.
We stay like this for what seems like forever; she watches me, and I watch her.
I fall into the armchair she was just sitting in moments ago and watch as she pivots to face the front door, her back to me. My gaze lingers on her vintage red sundress that cuts off at her mid-thigh and then lower to her long, lean legs for more than it should.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
I shake my head, numbing away the guilt. Stop. This is Paisley. Alaric’s daughter. Stop.
With my eyes never leaving her, I draw her floral mug to my lips and take a small sip of her tea and instantly regret it. Fucking hell, it’s green tea. I scrunch up my nose at the bitterness. Some honey anyone?
“Leave, Saint,” her soft voice pleads, the raspiness easing, but her back is still to me.
I set the mug down on the coffee table and sit back in the armchair. “Not yet.”
“Please, just go. Please.”
“I’m not leaving you alone. Not now.”
“Please, Saint. I need to be alone.”
“I’m not—”
“Is this how it’s going to be? Huh?” Paisley hisses in frustration, her boldness shining through as she turns to face me. She’s burning up, cheeks tinged in a flustered shade of scarlet. The front door remains wide-open, bringing in a brush of the warm wind as she holds her fierce defense, standing tall with her head up high. “My father’s friends order me instructions and I’m meant to accept it with no questions asked? Do you want me submissive? Is that what you call helping me?”
Paisley’s getting her nerve back. That tension we used to have years ago comes back in waves, only now this thick tension coats it. It’s as if we didn’t even embrace each other tightly by the doorstep before. Like she didn’t smile at me. Like she didn’t unlock a piece of her in me.
“Paisley—”
“No, answer me, Saint! For once be the good guy! I suffered through enough today, and perhaps I deserve what happened for speaking up to Erik, but I refuse to tolerate an ex-MMA fighter like Nico screaming in my face and thinking he owns me!”
“I agree and understand perfectly what you’re saying, but that’s just Nico’s style. But you need to understand Nico’s life and mine are very different from yours. It’s ruthless and direct. My normal is—”
She cuts me off. “Your normal? Are you seriously defending him? Do you condone screaming in a woman’s face, belittling them like they are nothing? Do you?”
“Fuck no, Paisley. Please just close the door so we can talk without—”
“NO!” Paisley screams. “I am sick of it! Sick of myself! Sick of my past! Sick of this fucking life! Sick of people constantly putting me down and of myself for not having enough courage to fight back! Sick of everything because the only thing I have in this life is my shadow!” She painfully pants out the words in fury, her voice breaking as she finishes with a broken whisper, “I’m sick and I’m tired, Saint. I’m sick of it all!”
I am sick of it all.
I swallow thickly.
I understand Paisley completely. She’s sick of the world as she knows it and she has every right to be after the way people treat her. But there’s something I need to know.
“Are you sick of me too?” I murmur after a few passing moments.
After a long, agonizing pause Paisley shakes her head and presses her forehead against the wall. It’s there—as agony and frustration tangle into one—where her hands spread out above her head, trembling in their pursuit to be perfect. But I don’t like perfection… or normality. It isn’t me. It isn’t what I do. It’s too complicated. And it isn’t Paisley either and that’s what I like about her. Because that’s all I’ve ever known life to be too—complicated.
“Paisley, come here.”
Eventually she does, but first she shuts the front door and leans her back against it for a split moment. Her chest is frantically rising up and down and I don’t like it one bit. It hurts me to see her like this and I don’t know why. I shouldn’t care about her, but Paisley Reign has this way of sneaking inside my mind, and I never seem to want to get her out.
Avoiding my gaze, Paisley begins her stride to me with her arms wrapped around her waist and wavy dark hair sweeping over her left shoulder. Then… she stops inches from me. She’s hesitant at first, chewing on her lower lip before her eyes meet mine. I make the move for her, standing up and meeting her halfway. We’re at the end of the hallway, start of the living room, when I step closer to her, and we share a long, intense stare with no words attached. It’s by far the most emotionally intimate we’ve ever been.
Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, I cup her smooth neck and caress my thumb against the blotches, which seem a little lighter now. She trembles against my touch, so I pause and pull away.
Maybe this is all too much for her.
What I don’t anticipate is for Paisley’s warm hand to slide over mine, for her to place it back on her neck, or the way her touch paralyzes my speech for a moment.
“Paisley,” I whisper sincerely, gazing into those honey browns. “Our lives may be different. I may be a former professional boxer. I may be sin in your eyes. I may step all over your damn flowers. But I would never, ever, condone any type of abuse toward women, and I will back that until the very end. I want you to speak your truth. I want you to defend yourself without the fear of others crushing you down. You’re much stronger and braver than you know. You deserve so much, Paisley. So much more than this.”
Paisley lowers her head, and my thumb trails against her soft lower lip, caressing her beauty. I raise my hand higher, wiping away her falling hot tears. “I believe you, Saint. I believe you,” she croaks. “I’m sorry I said that and blew up. I know you would never… I’m just so scared.”
“And you have every right to be after what happened, but when you feel that way, don’t shut me out. I want to be there for you, Paisley. I’m on your team, remember?”
She glances back up at me and flickers of the violently glowing flames borrowed from my soul are in her eyes. There’s a world to unlock in them. A world to unlock that doesn’t belong to me. Perhaps may never. I don’t even need a good enough reason for why. It just can’t.
That’s good enough.
“I remember.” Paisley reaches up and cups my own stubbled jaw, trailing her fingers through the spikey hairs. “I could never forget that. Whenever I’m with you, I feel so seen.”
“Because you’re so fucking beautiful. Inside and out. Those people who overlook you will never see how golden you are, but that’s their loss, not yours. You don’t owe them a damn thing. You deserve to be loved, cherished, and adored. You know your worth, so never ever be afraid to speak out when it means protecting your heart from a web of lies. Always choose truth, Pais. I’ll talk with Nico and see what’s up his ass. You’ll be getting an apology out of him.”
The warmest smile I’ve seen all day grows on Paisley’s lips. “Thank you, I needed that. That’s the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me.”
Once again, we get lost in each other’s eyes. Ocean blue on honey brown. I can’t stop gazing, staring, craving the way she bites her lower lip, and my eyes darken a fraction. There’s a desire in her eyes too, a sudden spark that has my cock throbbing in ways it shouldn’t for her.
I can’t take my eyes off Paisley. Off those gorgeous lips. Whenever she’s around, I find myself letting go of the past and the reasons I’ve been so caged up about my feelings. There’s something about her that makes me want to help her in any way, no matter the cost.
I hate that I’m drawn to her. Hate that I care, because I know I can never be more than her father’s close friend and neighbor. But the way she’s looking at me, with so much allure, it questions everything inside me.
Paisley steps forward, her fingers brushing her hair back behind her shoulders, and that has my gaze dropping to her dress and the slight dip at the front, displaying the beautiful curves of her breasts… those clearly hard nipples that stab through the fabric, begging to be touched. God. A quick visual of running my warm tongue down her cleavage and swirling it over her pebbled nipples before sucking on them with just the right amount of suction crosses my mind.
Christ. Get it out of your head.
Needing to deflect where my mind is going, I say, “So… how about you give me this Erik’s last name and a description of what he looks like so I can go out and kill him myself before your father arrives and starts stressing out about it all?”
A soft, unexpected giggle rumbles through her. It warms me. “Oh my gosh, no, you’re not going that far!”
“I know, I just like firing you up.” I smile. “But I wasn’t entirely kidding. I’m going to go after him. You don’t think your father and I will?” My hands come to rest on her waist as I remember what she said moments ago. “Please don’t ever say you feel worthless or that all you have is your shadow. It’s not true. You deserve love, a whole fuck load of it, from somebody who will respectfully see you as the best thing that happened to them. And don’t think you won’t get that. I mean, look at you, you’re so fucking selfless.”
“Saint?”
“Yes?”
Paisley grins and rises to press a soft, passionate kiss on my cheek. Her voice is a sweet tremble when her eyes find mine. “Thank you. Truthfully. For everything.”
“Anytime. I’m on your team. I’m on your fucking team, Paisley. I hope you know that.”
“I know you are, and I’m just really glad I know you.”
“So am I.” I nod. “You’re beautiful, Paisley. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”
Paisley’s cheeks flush as she sniffles away her remaining tears.
“Tell me it. I want to hear the words come out of your mouth. Tell me you’re beautiful.”
Paisley parts her heart-shaped lips, her eyes dimming as no words fall. A part of me wants to know the exact thoughts running through her mind. The other part wants to scoop her into my arms and never let go.
Just as I’m about to speak, there’s a rattling at the front door of metal keys clashing and it startles her. Closing her mouth, she glances away from me, and I know exactly why.
Alaric.
Her father’s home.
Fuck.
But I don’t care. I need to say this to her right now.
Paisley’s sweet jasmine scent fills my lungs as I take a step forward. Cupping her soft jaw, my thumb trails over her rosy lower lip. Those honey brows watch me with a warmth I haven’t felt in a long while. It turns me on and makes me want to walk away all at the same time.
Alaric curses loudly on the other side of the front door, and being so close to it, I vaguely understand it. Something about never being able to get the right key and so I use every extra second to my advantage.
I grasp Paisley’s hand in my free one, weaving our fingers together before raising up our intertwined hands to my lips and kissing her soft skin. Only then, with my right hand gently holding her jaw, do I lean forward and shut my eyes, pressing my lips against her cheek. It’s a soft, sensual kiss to the skin, but it communicates everything we’ve spoken about this evening.
I inhale a deep breath as I pull away because I don’t do this. I don’t let women get this close to me. Not emotionally. Not this physically deep. Not for a long time. But when it comes to Paisley… I find myself unraveling and I can’t control it, no matter how badly I wish I could.
“Then let me say it for you,” I whisper, meeting her eyes. “Paisley Reign, you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. If I were another man, a better man, and we didn’t have any history between us, I’d do everything to show you just how special life can be and just how much more it blooms with you in it.”
Through the emotions, Paisley flashes me the deepest smile, tears streaming down her cheeks, and it’s everything for me. Everything. I feel something change inside me, like a flick of a switch, but I don’t know if it’s for better or if it’s for worse. All I know is that it changes me. Paisley changes me.
For reasons beyond me, a smile curls on my lips too, just as the door clicks unlocked and just like that, I step away from her. I pull out my phone from my jeans pocket and pretend to be engrossed in it, feeling Paisley’s hot gaze leave mine as Alaric steps inside.
Murmuring he’s sorry, her father pulls her into a tight embrace and shuts his eyes. Paisley’s head rests against his chest, yet those honey browns never leave mine. And we go back to being passing ghosts. Now that her father’s here, it changes everything. I can’t look at her the way I do. I can’t tell her how beautiful she is or fantasize about what it would be like to kiss those gorgeous lips of hers.
It’s like we don’t exist.
Like this connection between us becomes oceans apart when other people are around.
Like we’re living two entirely different worlds; forbidden to touch but tempted to hold.
Because maybe we are.
