Page 24

I turn to get off the ledge, but he puts his arms around my waist and hoists me over, knocking the glass of pill-filled wine off. It crashes on the concrete and splashes everywhere. A noise mixed between a groan and a cry tears out of my mouth, tears welling in my eyes.

“I need you, I’ll do anything for you. Anything to make you stay on Earth, with me, forever.” His hands soothe my hair down flat, his eyes pleading with me.

“He found me. Hurt me. Said he will find me.” His eyes fill with rage. Deep, dark, terrifying rage. If he was a dragon, steam would be coming out of his nose right now.

“Who?” He growls, arms tightening around me.

“My father.” I grab onto his chest, clinging to his shirt as he stands up and quickly walks to the elevator, punching the buttons with his fist.

He enters his office on the second floor, me still in his arms, and sits down, settling me on his lap, facing him. So I move my legs to straddle him, burying my face in his neck. I feel him type on his phone for a few minutes before a new voice is in the air. “Yes, Dmitri.” This voice has an accent similar to Riot’s, and he knows his real name. Is this the brother, Viktor, that Linda told me about?

“Get Harold Russo to the manor in Catskill. Alive.” He hangs up the phone before his arms wrap fully around me. His smell is woodsy, engulfing my senses, but I’m not complaining.

I take a couple of seconds to study his tattoos. He has a large spider web on his neck that covers the entire surface. A spider falls in the middle, inching down towards his chest where more indescribable tattoos lay. I crave to see every tattoo he has, trace them with my fingers, maybe my tongue.

Stop that.

“Go to sleep, Moss. I have a bit of work to do on my computer.” He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Being wrapped in his arms, his presence brings me comfort. Safety even. My eyes start to betray me, falling peacefully into a deep sleep. No nightmares come to taunt me for the first time in days.

I wake up, still in his arms. It’s still dark outside, letting me know I didn’t sleep for long. We are in his office, and it sounds like he’s typing on his laptop. I feel his mask is off now, as it no longer rubs against the top of my head.

I haven’t even moved before he speaks, “You’re awake. Sleep well, Moss?” He cares. It’s still surreal to me that someone wants me and all my trauma, my scars and my bad memories. I don’t know if he truly wants me, but him coming home after realizing how upset I was kind of proves something. Home? This is not my home. I groan a little bit, sleep still heavy on my eyes.

I turn around slightly to see what he’s doing, and I see a whole lot of words and numbers I can’t read, or even understand. “What is that?” Looking at him, he seems focused, like a boss. It’s kind of hot to see it. His eyebrows are pinched together, his kissable lips in a straight line. Without even thinking, I lean to his face and place a soft, quick kiss on his lips.

His eyes shoot to mine, surprised at what I did. His eyes turn almost black, filling with hunger. Is that hunger for me? Both of his hands cup my face, and he slams his lips to mine, feeling like he’s starving, but not pushing me too far.

It’s comforting that he wants to try and make it work no matter what. He doesn’t want to hurt me, at least he says. It’s just so hard to break down the walls I’ve built since I was six. They are strong, but he is worming his way through them, fast as well. I want to fully put my guard down, let him see all my broken parts, let him love me and see me, but I’m terrified.

What if he breaks me, hurts me? What if he doesn’t actually love me and this is just a game to him? I don’t want to be a game to someone. I just want to be loved, how a human is supposed to be loved.

His lips feel like silk on my own. Fitting against mine perfectly like a puzzle piece. His tongue brushes my bottom lip, a silent plea to go deeper. With a shaky breath, I part my lips for him. His tongue darts into my mouth, fighting with my own.

The kiss is sloppy, fast, and hungry. He’s trying to eat me with his tongue, tasting every crevice of my mouth. I’ve never willingly kissed someone before, but if this is what it’s going to be like, I don’t ever want to stop. Especially if it’s with him.

He pulls away, his lips red and swollen, and he’s panting, still looking starved. “Fucking Christ, Moss. You taste like Heaven and Hell. Good and Evil. You taste like everything I’ve ever craved,” he breathes out, eyes still dark and wanting. “If we keep going, I won’t be able to control myself,” he sighs with regret. “ I have places I need to be, I’m so sorry.” My face drops. He’s leaving again? Of fucking course he is. Always does.

“Do not give me that look. You are going with. You will never leave my side again.” I blush at his words, looking away sheepishly. He wants me to go with? Well okay then. My cheeks betray me, turning beet red.

“Won’t you be…” I take a moment to play how this might sound in my head. “Emb-” I sigh shakily, but continue. “Embarrassed to be with me?” He looks me in the eye while showing an emotion I can’t quite read. Anger maybe?

“Never ever, will I ever be embarrassed of being seen with you. You are fucking stunning, jaw-dropping, and the embodiment of strength,” he growls out, his hands moving to grip my hips and squeeze the flesh there. I lost weight the few days I didn’t eat, certain bones now sticking out again.

He leans in and kisses my nose, but it doesn’t stop there. He kisses each cheek, the length of my jaw, my eyes, forehead, ears, hair, and finishes with a deep kiss on my lips. I whine at the loss of his lips, favoring the feeling of them on me. “Baby, I’ll kiss every inch of your perfect skin if I need to. You are perfect, and nothing will ever change that.”

Tears roll down my cheeks, and he wipes them away, kissing the spots after. “C’mon, let’s get ready to go.” He doesn’t let me get off his lap, as he stands up with me still attached to him and his arm under my ass. He walks towards his room, kicking the door open with his foot and shutting it behind him with said foot.

He sets me down on my feet in the middle of the room. “Go shower, I will pack for you. Do you want anything from the million bags sitting in front of the elevator?” Oh shit, I forgot all about the shopping bags from the mall, all including clothes and shoes from the stores. One bag containing just candy, sue me. I shake my head no, making my way to the bathroom.

Once I get out of the shower and get dressed, I walk into the bedroom to Riot sitting on the bed, typing furiously into his phone. He looks up when he sees me, eyes glazing over as he looks over every inch of my body. I’m wearing just a simple plum colored dress that ends mid-thigh, it has thin straps and a slightly plunging neckline, leaving little to the imagination.

A growl comes out of his mouth, sounding feral. He stalks over to me, his hands squeezing the flesh of my hips. “God, Moss. You’re going to kill me wearing something like that. I’ll be too distracted looking at you to look at the road.” I feel the heat rising in my chest, covering my neck and traveling further up to my cheeks and ears. A smirk covers his lips, looking like he’s hungry as he looks at me.

“Don’t we need to go?” I question. He looks at me unamused.

He takes my hand, leading me out of the bedroom and into the living room. Before we get in the elevator, he jogs away and returns a few seconds later with his mask now on his face, shielding me from the beauty under it. I frown, hating this stupid mask. “I know, Moss. I hate it too, but I can’t take it off.” I see the shame swirl in the sliver of eyes I can see through the mask.

“One day?” My voice is quiet, not wanting to make him upset. He takes a moment to think before answering. When he does speak, his tone is shaky, almost like he doesn’t want to say it.