I’m not used to people saying no to me. It’s certainly not because I was a spoiled child, but it probably has something to do with being the most feared man in the city, the guy known for skinning people alive and loving every fucking second of it.
And yet Clara says no to me over and over again, and no matter how many times I hear the word fall from between her pretty lips, I never get used to it.
Whoever’s on the phone has her spooked, and I suspect it’s the same person who potentially broke into her apartment last night. I haven’t been able to access my own tapes to check, not wanting to leave her vulnerable and without protection for any longer than necessary, but there’s only one reason Everett’s camera feed would have been interrupted.
I leave my hand outstretched, hoping she’ll make the right decision and hand it over, but my fawn is stubborn and I should know she’s not going to make this easy on me.
“Give me the phone,” I mouth.
She shakes her head, her palm wrapped around the phone so tight her knuckles have long turned white. I hate seeing her upset. I hate seeing her anything other than happy, and right now, she looks downright terrified.
I sigh and pry the phone from her hand, careful not to harm her in the process. I may love to inflict pain, both in and out of the bedroom, but for my beautiful fawn, it will only ever be the former. Once I’ve pulled it away from her, I hold it to my ear. “Do you think it wise to threaten a man like myself? Or do you just not know who you’re dealing with?”
“Oh no, Tommy. I know all about you and your reputation. I’m just not scared like the weak little boys you’re used to dealing with.”
I let out a dark laugh. This guy has a fucking death wish, and I can almost taste his blood as I peel his skin from his body piece by piece, can almost hear his pleas as he begs for mercy. Too bad I’m not in the business of such things. “Funny. You sound exactly like the assholes I wipe from this planet.”
“Boy, you don’t have a clue who you’re talking to.”
The man on the other end of the phone is agitated. If I had to hazard a guess, he’s high on something, and I can’t help but look at Clara, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. How does she know this asshole? I’ve been following her for months and I know for a fact she’s not embroiled in anything sinister, and yet this guy is exactly what I expect from something of that nature.
“I’m talking to a dead man walking for underestimating a man like me. I suggest you lose this number.” I end the call before the asshole can sprout any more bullshit and pocket the phone. I need to get it to Ace to trace the call. I want to know everything there is to know about the asshole who thought it was okay to upset my woman and threaten me.
“That’s my phone.” Clara reaches for my pocket but quickly withdraws her hand when she thinks better of the move.
“And I’ll return it. I just need a friend to do a check for me.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she whispers.
“Yes, I do. That asshole broke into your apartment last night, and this morning, he thinks it’s okay to call and threaten you. I need to know everything about him so I can kill him.”
Her face pales and I consider for a moment that maybe I shouldn’t be so blunt about killing people in front of her, that maybe her sheltered ears aren’t ready to hear how easily I end lives without a blink or a thought for who they’re leaving behind in this godforsaken world. “How did you know he broke in here?” She asks quietly, fear flashing through the deep brown pools.
I pause. I’m usually better at concealing information I shouldn’t know, but that all went out the window the moment this asshole threatened my woman. “It doesn’t matter right now.”
“Tommy, please. You don’t understand.”
The panic in her eyes disarms me. She’s not worried about me killing this guy. She’s worried about what I may find if I dig. I’m going to find out anyway, but she doesn’t need to know I already have Ace digging up every little bit of her past that she’s tried to bury. Hiding now won’t do her any good.
“Is there something I should know, Clara?”
She shakes her head slowly, but it’s her eyes that tell me everything I need to know. Not only is she keeping something from me, but whatever it is, it’s a lot more sinister than I would expect from my innocent fawn, and I’d bet every dollar I have that whatever it is probably has something to do with her reaction to me telling her to strip last night.
I consider my next move for long seconds. If I’m too heavy-handed with Clara, she’ll run a mile and I’ll never get her back. But it’s not in my nature to be gentle. I was trained to go at everything as hard as I could, so how can I possibly take it easy with Clara?
I step toward her, closing the distance between us but stop dead in my place when she flinches. A mixture of worry and rage slams into me and makes it hard to breathe.
“Fawn, you have to know I would never hurt you,” I say as gently as I can manage, but it still comes out as a deep rumble.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine and the sadness behind them disarms me. I’ve become addicted to seeing fear in a man’s eye, but not her. Not Clara. Seeing fear in her eyes is like taking a knife to the gut. Excruciating. “I’m sorry, I just…” she trails off. She doesn’t want to give me much, and the more time that passes that I can’t work out what the hell is going on, the more my skin itches.
“It’s okay, little fawn.” I reach for her and this time she doesn’t pull away. I brush my fingers down her arm and some of the tension in her shoulders releases at my touch. “You look very pale. Have you eaten this morning?”
She shakes her head, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
I swallow the growl that claws its way up my throat. She doesn’t know the rules because I haven’t taken the time to explain to her that from here on out, she will be doing as she’s told. She will be eating three square meals a day and taking care of herself. I just have to make her see why.
“Did you eat dinner last night?”
She hesitates but, after a few beats, shakes her head again, and this time I have no control over the primal sound that claws its way up my throat.
“When was the last time you did eat?” I grind out through clenched teeth. Every instinct in my body is tearing at me to cave, to bend her over and claim her, so I have a right to be angry she hasn’t eaten.
She traps her bottom lip between her teeth and her brows furrow slightly as she tries to think of the answer. The problem is, she shouldn’t have to think so hard about when she last ate and I immediately turn toward the fridge. I need to get her phone to Ace, but more than that, I need to make sure she’s eaten before I even think about leaving this apartment. She’s my number one priority, and although there seems to be a bigger issue at large, the more pressing one is making sure she’s taken care of.
“What are you doing?” Clara asks when I start rummaging through her too-bare fridge.
Why doesn’t she have more food? And why haven’t I been checking this when I’m here at night? It wouldn’t be that hard to add a couple of things every few nights. She’d just think she forgot she picked them up at the store or that she had more of them than she thought she did.
“Getting you something to eat.”
There’s a stretch of silence, but I don’t bother turning around as I collect yogurt and a couple of eggs and place them on the counter beside me.
“I’m really not hungry, Tommy. I just…” she trails off when she realizes saying the rest of that sentence will mean telling me who just called her, and that’s the last thing she wants to do right now. I haven’t quite worked out if she’s trying to protect herself or me, but either way, I’m going to learn the truth eventually. She may as well just give it to me straight.
“Too bad. You’re eating something and then we’re going out.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you on that bike,” she snaps.
“Good thing I brought the car with me today then, eh?” I glance over my shoulder at her before fishing a spoon out of the top drawer. I pick up the yogurt and turn around. “Eat this while I make you eggs.”
She eyes me hesitantly, flicking the deep pools from the items in my hand and the eggs behind me. “You know how to cook?”
“Yes.”
She takes them from me hesitantly, but when she doesn’t immediately open the yogurt, I sigh and close the distance between us, sandwiching her between my hard body and the counter. “Clara, you have two options here. Either you eat of your own volition, or I’ll tie you to your bed and force-feed you. Your choice.”
Her mouth drops open with surprise, but she quickly snaps it shut again.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” My brow quirks up and a smirk tugs at the corners of my lips. Little does she know, there’s nothing I want more than her spread out and at my mercy.
