I had a feeling she was going to lose her ever-loving mind when she found out what I’d done. I had a feeling she was going to fucking flip when I told her she was moving in with me and there was no other option. But I didn’t expect her to look… hurt.
My experience with women is pretty limited apart from spreading their legs and fucking them until they forget their name. Aside from that, there’s my sisters and mother, but even then I usually just beat up or kill whoever caused them pain.
I chase after her, wishing more than anything I had taken some time to at least put on some pants. My cock is flapping free and reaching down to hold it still would only slow me down. She’s fast for such a little thing, and I’m only just coming through the bedroom door when the bathroom door slams shut and the lock engages.
Fuck.
The problem with my penthouse being the safest place in the city is that it’s not just safe because the elevator that leads to it only has one stop. It’s not the fact there’s security around the building twenty-four seven. It’s not even that the entrance door is basically pure metal and even a grenade would likely only leave a dent. No. The problem is that every single room in the whole place can be used as a safe room.
I’ve never cursed my ridiculous need for safety until this very moment, and the only bright side I can see is that while she’s locked in there, there isn’t a hope in hell of Russo getting his grubby paws on her.
“Emerson, why don’t you come out here and we can talk.” I keep my words gentle, not wanting to spook her any more than I already have.
A ragged sob on the other side of the door only makes me tempted to trial the grenade idea, the need to hold her so strong I almost can’t bear the fact I can’t touch her.
“Sweet girl, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. That was never my intention. I never want to upset you.” The truth in the words almost shocks me. I’ve never given a fuck about anyone’s feelings before, but Emerson’s were the first I didn’t want to hurt.
“Go away,” she gasps out as she slides down the door.
“I just want to talk. Come out here so we can talk.”
“No. I don’t want to look at you right now.” Her cries are muffled and I imagine her curled up with her knees pressed to her chest, her head resting on them. The thought makes me a mixture of furious and scared. She shouldn’t be alone. She should never be alone when I can be here for her, when I could be holding her.
I’ve never been known for my patience and it’s taking everything in me to not lose control of the beast fighting to break free from within me. I look at my phone on my bedside table and reach for it, perching on the edge of the bed and keeping my eyes on the door as I dial the only number I can think of that might be able to help me.
“Rayne, I thought you were taking today off?” Everett chuckles on the other end of the line.
“I am. I’ve locked myself out of my bathroom, how do I get in?”
“So it’s going well with Emerson then? Have you seen the tabloids? They’re losing their fucking minds over that kiss.”
I huff out a laugh. “I’m sure they are. I’ll keep her away from her social media, I can’t imagine that’s going to help my cause at this point.”
“There’s an emergency override in the panic room. It disengages all the locks in the apartment,” he tells me.
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Can you do it remotely? I don’t want to leave the door and give her a chance to lock it again.”
He laughs on the other end of the line and I wish I could reach through and punch him square in the fucking face. But I can’t. He’s helping me and honestly, we’d be fucked without him. “You’ve got it. I can’t wait to meet the spitfire, she seems like fun.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Everett.” And then I hang up the phone. I don’t have the temperament for his bullshit right now.
I tug on a pair of sweats and start pacing in front of the door. I won’t have long once the door is unlocked and I’m not going to risk another call to that smug son of a bitch. Like he can throw stones when he’s been obsessed with my baby sister for almost as long as they’ve known one another.
It’s only a few moments before I hear the lock and I quickly reach out and tug the door open and the sight only proves to make me angrier.
Emerson is curled up in a ball beside the bath. Tears stream down her face as she gently rocks herself. Before I’ve even registered my own movements, I’ve bundled her up in my arms and I’m carrying her back to the bed.
She doesn’t fight me immediately. At first she allows herself to melt into my embrace and accept the comfort she needs, but it’s short-lived. The moment I climb up onto the bed, still cradling her against my chest, she’s struggling against me.
“Let. Me. Go,” she growls, her legs kicking out in an attempt to dislodge herself.
“No.” I lock my arms around her. “You’re going to sit your pretty ass in my lap and tell me why the fuck you flipped out like that. I understand you might feel like I’m squashing your independence, but I just want to take care of you. I hated seeing you tired and stressed every morning, seeing you lose weight because you weren’t taking care of yourself. I’m not going to sit by and watch my woman struggle when I have more than enough money to take that burden off her shoulders.”
“I won’t run again, but I need you to let me go.”
I hesitate for a moment, because if there was ever a flight risk, it’s her, but in the end I bend to her will and release her from my grasp and she scurries up to lean against the headboard.
“Why did you run?”
“I’m not one of your whores, Rayne. I can’t be bought. If that’s all you want me for, then we can arrange some kind of payment plan because I’m not—”
“Emerson,” I snap. “You are not a whore. I don’t ever want to hear you say that ever again.”
“Then why do you think you can buy me like one?” Emerson hisses.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Maybe this is how things worked in your past relationships, that you could just buy them, but that’s not going to fly with me. So I think it would be best if I went home.”
“Will you stop fucking trying to leave?” I growl. “There are no past relationships, Emerson. There’s you. And then there’s a long list of women that could barely hold my attention through a quick fuck. You are nothing like them.”
“The fact that you think you can buy me makes me worse.” A rough sob tears from her throat and I reach for her again. I need to feel her in my arms, to reassure myself she’s safe and she’s not going anywhere, but I pull my arm back quickly.
“Emerson, I need you to listen to me and listen real fucking hard,” I say through clenched teeth. I’m barely holding onto my composure. “I will not have you speaking about yourself like that. You. Are. Everything.”
Her eyes widen as I punctuate each word, but she doesn’t move. She stays rooted in place against the headboard. At least she’s stopped trying to get away from me, small wins.
I prowl toward her, crawling up the bed until our faces are only a few inches apart and her ragged breaths whisper across my cheeks. “Are you hearing me, sweet girl?”
“I can’t be bought.” She turns her face away from me.
“I wasn’t trying to buy you, Emerson. I was trying to free you.” I reach out to swipe the tears from her cheeks.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” She tries to pull away, but I don’t let her. If I give her space now, she’s going to run and I can’t risk that. I won’t risk it.
“Too bad, sweet girl, because this is happening. You are mine. There’s no running, there’s no hiding. There’s just you and me.”
She doesn’t know true those words are. She doesn’t realize that from the moment we met her future was decided. But she will. She’ll understand once I show her, once I prove to her I’m in this for more than a quick fuck or two. I just have to show her.
