by Sweet, Izzy
The Russians weren’t the only ones there that night. There were also a few unidentified men that were there and let go. Men that are rumored to work for Johnathan and James’s boss, Lucifer.
It all makes so much sense, I feel like a fucking fool.
This is a setup.
With Beth pregnant and needing to get out of the rain, Johnathan probably called in James to keep an eye on me.
No doubt their little crime family wants to keep tabs on me for any information that may come my way regarding the investigation.
That’s why James looks so pissed. He doesn’t want to be around me any more than I want to be around him.
My empty stomach churns at the thought that my best friend’s husband is throwing me to wolves.
But what can you expect from a ruthless criminal?
James continues to stare hard at me, his dark eyes practically daring me to defy him.
Defying him and going for help would probably be the sane option. But who would help me? There’s no one around…
I could try to make a run for the church, but James will probably catch me before I make it very far.
He’s done it before, and I’m so not going down that road again.
We both know he’s bigger, stronger, and faster.
What other choice do I have?
He has me completely at his mercy and we both know it. Fighting him would just take energy. Energy I simply don’t have.
Hating him for doing this to me now.
Hating him period, I take a deep breath to steel myself.
Then I rip my arm out of his grip and say, “Fine. If you insist… Give me a ride.”
4
James
The entirety of my life has been me in a car racing to one place only to run from another.
I’ve been in a lot of tough spots in my life, but I’ve never been in a position where the atmosphere is so fucking tense and palpable that I could cut it with a knife.
Beside myself with seething anger, I want to wrap my hands around the closest throat and squeeze as hard as I can.
Not Sophia’s though. I’d rather do some sexy fun times with her neck. If she’s down for being choked, I can do that.
No, my fucking anger is because of all this shit she’s going through.
She’s too fucking pure, too fucking good for this world of shit and slime I crawl through every day.
And unlike me, she didn’t get to choose this world.
Her shit of a semi-crooked father did.
Sure, her father did what he could to protect the citizens as the Chief, and I’m sure when he first started out, he was a starry-eyed idealist. But shit like the real world always comes crashing down on everyone.
The real world has a way of making us all crooked one way or the other.
I’ve seen enough and done enough that I’ve lost any rosy tint that may have covered my eyes. Killed a lot of people so far, some of them were bad people, some good.
Most of my life, I was sheltered from this world. I wasn’t stupid though. I eventually found out where my mom’s money came from. We lived in a huge house and she always drove the latest Mercedes, working as a county clerk. Shit like that didn’t add up.
I found out the truth and went my own way.
Glancing at Sophia, I watch her glare out at the world we pass by. I don’t think she understands what her father did. She knows he was a cop and that’s enough for her. She doesn’t know the choices he made or the lines he crossed to maintain the illusion he was in control.
He was never in control.
No, Chief Cronin lost all power and control when he signed a deal with the Devil.
It was probably something as simple as Lucifer telling him specific details about a rival crime gang’s activities. It’s always that way with him. He gets you through the small things, the little nothings. He gets you under his thumb and then he slowly erodes away all true control from you. He’s done it to all of us to some extent.
Even me, if I’m being honest.
Looking around, though, I can still see the world like I think Sophia does. Unlike her, I know it’s all a sham. Nothing good ever really exists in Garden City, it all eventually fades to gray.
Not Sophia, dammit.
I don’t want that for her.
But I don’t want her to be the innocent wife who wears blinders. That’s not for her either.
My hand aches with the desire to just reach over and grab hers. To give her some sort of comfort.
But I know she doesn’t want my comfort. She doesn’t want my solace. I saw that in the graveyard. I saw the look of revulsion when she saw me. She saw the dark and dirty world she’s been thrust into when she saw me.
She saw the dark ink blot on my soul.
Most of the women I’ve been with are drawn to the darkness they feel within me. The exciting danger they put their lives in. They know I’m not the right one for them. They know I’m the hurricane that will sweep into their lives and destroy everything.
And they know I’ll fade out of existence as soon as I’m done.
Those women crave me and what I do to them.
Sophia doesn’t.
She doesn’t want the bad boy who kills people. She probably thought she’d marry the nice boy next door and live a life of normalcy.
Shit, she probably could have too if she hadn’t been taken all those months ago when the Russians decided to fuck around in Garden City.
Her life could have been so fucking different than it is now. She could have had a path that led to normal old boring shit. But it can never be that again. Not after the Russians hit Johnathan’s bar and I was assigned to rescue her.
Kind of like fate, I guess.
Fate put me in the way of her suffering a life worse than death. I know the dark shit she could have been sold into. The short existence she would have suffered until she was no longer of use.
I could try to tell her all the things that could have happened to her, but I don’t think she’ll hear me. I don’t think she’d really and truly get it either. She got a taste, but she got away. She was saved by my hands.
She’s been saved by my hands since then too.
But she doesn’t know any of that shit and I don’t think she ever should.
“Where the fuck are you taking me?” Sophia snarls at me as I drive us through the pouring rain to my house.
“My house?” I say in confusion. “Where the fuck else would I take you?”
Dropping her chin, she glares at me. “I need to go home.”
“Exactly what I said,” I say back to her.
“What?” she questions.
“What?” I ask back.
This shit’s confusing. Where the fuck does she think I would take her?
“Take me to my house, James. I have a cat I need to take care of, and I can’t play any more stupid games with you,” she says and turns away.
“I can get all your stuff brought back to our house,” I say.
Stuff isn’t worth your life is what I really want to tell her.
“Take me to my home now, James, or I’ll walk my ass there,” she tells me quietly and with less emotion than she should be showing with those kinds of words.
“Fucking hell,” I spit out and turn the car around at an intersection.
The wheels of my car squeal as I whip a U-turn and push the pedal down.
The rain is coming down heavily right now and I can’t have her trying to walk her ass back to her old house dressed the way she is. Her heels alone would fucking kill her feet before she even got halfway there.
“And don’t drive like some frat boy douchebag,” she adds before turning her eyes back to her window.
I growl out, “I—”
“Yeah, you were.”
I’ll fucking choke her. Gonna make her fucking gag on my cock, I swear it.
Shit. Her calling me out is getting me fucking hard.
Growling quietly, I push my finger against the scre
en on the console and call Simon.
“What is it?” Simon snaps at me.
“I need two guys on perimeter around the Cronin house, immediately,” I growl out and hope it isn’t full of the resentment I feel right now.
“Why?” he asks.
Peeking over at Sophia, I watch her body tense at the sound of the good ol’ germaphobe’s voice.
“Just fucking do it, Simon,” I say, and again my hand wants to grab hers in reassurance.
Or maybe my hands are itching to bind her and fuck her senseless. It could be that too.
Fuck her so damn hard she gives into my will.
“I don’t have men just laying around the compound, waiting for orders, James,” Simon grumbles at me, but I know he’s lying.
“Send Michael and Uriel then. I want protection. Call in some of the guys from the Heralds of Hell if you have to. We have fucking resources, Simon. I don’t need to do your job for you. Have them call me when they get set up,” I say and push the disconnect button.
Normally, I don’t fucking bother trying to push my weight like that, but I really don’t give a fuck right now. If Jude was around and available, I’d have his ass here. But he’s busy, so it is what it is.
Jude’s another problem I need to figure out. He’s… he’s going to be a total asshole when he figures out I’ve finally fallen like the other guys.
* * *
The rain hasn’t let up since it started today. And with all the fucking lightning and thunder, my poor Mitzy is probably having a fucking heart attack right now without me.
I start to open my door. “Let’s get this over with.”
“What over with?” Sophia asks as she starts to open her own door.
“Stay the hell there,” I snap at her before reaching over and yanking her door shut.
Quickly exiting the car to make sure I can be the target if anyone’s around and ready to start more shit with Sophia or her family…
Family.
Shit, she doesn’t even have that anymore. Her mom’s gone and now her dad.
Fuck.
Rain drenches me through the suit I’m wearing, and while I should have put the raincoat I had back on, I didn’t.
Fucking dumbass that I am.
Stopping at my trunk, I lift it open and quickly pull out an umbrella that’s been shoved in there with all the weapons I like to keep in the back. I swear if the ATF were to ever stop me outside of this state, I’d be in prison with a terrorist tag next to my name for the rest of my life.
Grabbing an extra clip holster, I attach it to my belt before closing the trunk and popping the umbrella open. Walking to Sophia’s side, I keep a lookout around us as I open her door, trying to shield her as much as I can from the rain.
I spotted Uriel out in a car when I pulled into the neighborhood and he followed me to the house, but he’s moved on and will be patrolling.
I can still feel eyes on the back of my head though, but it’s a benign feeling.
It’s another one of our guys out there somewhere, watching over us.
I could have told Simon to post someone up in the house I was renting, but I figured that wouldn’t go over too well with Sophia while we’re here doing whatever she needs to do.
I watch as her legs step out of the car and have to grit my fucking teeth. My mouth wants to make a thousand different comments about how fucking good they look.
Those muscles so smooth, so fucking fluid as she stands up.
But I keep it to myself.
Dammit, it’s not easy keeping all these hormones bottled up like this.
Peering up at me with those horribly sad blue eyes of hers, I can see the broken pieces slowly crumbling apart as she slings her purse over shoulder.
She’s hurting so badly, so deeply…
I don’t know anything that I could do to piece her back together.
I know it’s awful to be so damn aroused right now because of her proximity when she’s so damn broken inside… But it’s like every shred of my very being wants to mate with her and lock her away.
While she could care less if I even existed.
“We need to make this quick, Sophia. We need to move to a safer location soon,” I say and lightly grip her elbow.
Walking close to her, I make sure the umbrella fully covers her so she can at least have a little shelter from some of the shit today is throwing her way.
Yanking her elbow out of my grip, she all but shouts, “I’m not leaving here! This is my home!”
Marching ahead of me to the front door, she digs through her purse and yanks her keys out.
Thankfully Johnathan left the purse for me to give to her and we won’t have to drive anywhere else tonight.
Trying to push the key into the door, her hands shake too much to fit the little key inside the hole.
Fucking hell, save me. I’d make a joke if I didn’t think she’d headbutt the fuck out of me.
“Here,” I say as I drop the umbrella to the ground beside us.
No use in trying to keep us dry anymore. I don’t think she’s even aware of how wet and cold the air is getting around us.
April and rain are never fun in Garden City.
Cold and wet, just how I don’t like my pussy.
Although… I mean as long as it’s got a pulse...
Shaking my head internally at myself, I take her hands in mine and carefully take the key.
“I got it,” I say before unlocking and opening the door.
Nodding her head, Sophia just stands there, looking into the house. She doesn’t move for a long time and I can feel the approaching of night as we just wait.
We need to be moving. We need to get out of the rain and out of the sight of bullets.
But I can’t make her move from something like this.
I don’t want to make her move from something like this. She’s going to have to deal with the real world now, and I won’t force her into moving.
“I’m cold,” she mumbles quietly to herself before wrapping her arms around her chest.
I doubt she even knows she spoke, but I heard it.
Taking my suit jacket off, I gently lay it over her shoulders.
But the way she responds… It’s like I set a cattle prod to her ass. She jolts so hard, she takes a step over the threshold and into the warmth her body needs.
Well, I guess my touch was needed after all.
Or maybe she just really fucking hates my jacket.
A fat and fluffy gray cat walks right up to Sophia as soon as she steps inside. Meowing a loud meow as it wounds itself between her wet legs.
“The cat?” I ask as I watch Sophia bend over and pick the thing up into her arms.
Nodding her head, she doesn’t bother to look back at me still standing in the doorway.
Shutting the door behind me, I make sure to lock and bolt it. Don’t need any surprise visitors. Not that the door or locks would be much of a deterrent.
Pulling the gun from my hip holster, I drop the coat to the floor and step around Sophia to do a check on the house. “Don’t move, I want to check the house.”
Burying her head in the cat’s fur, she doesn’t respond.
The first couple of rooms are quick and easy. The house is only two stories and I have the floor plans memorized.
I know the floor plans of my obsession’s home.
Yep, creepy fucker right here.
Fuck.
Time to move on and forget that little thought.
There’s no sense in dwelling on me stalking her, protecting her, or my obsession of her. It’s not like I snuck into her house and stole her panties or anything.
It crossed my mind a time or two, but I didn’t, dammit.
The kitchen is empty, so is the walk-in pantry and the mudroom. Each room I go through on the first floor is empty thankfully.
But I hear the thud of feet going up the stairs as I’m making my way out of the study and feel my blood slamming through my veins, straight to my h
eart.
Slipping the safety off my Glock, I sprint toward the front of the house. Checking the door quickly, I don’t spot Sophia.
Which could be good because she just went up the stairs or bad… Fuck!
Racing up the stairs two at a time, I try to move as quietly as I can, but I can only be so quiet not knowing where she is.
Am I dependent on her? Yes.
Do I trust her to protect herself? No.
Checking each room as I come to them, I find her dad’s room and a couple of furnished but empty rooms.
The last door I get to is locked and I can hear movement inside.
“Sophia?” I ask loudly through the door.
“I’m home and safe, go away now,” I hear her say.
“That’s not the deal, Sophia,” I say loudly and start jiggling the handle.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about. Go away! I need to shower and…” she trails off and I hear her moving deeper into the room.
Most likely heading toward the attached bathroom.
I remember from the floor plan that this room has a good-sized bedroom, bathroom, and a walk-in closet. Two of those things I haven’t checked yet, and I sure as hell need to before I know she’s safe.
“Let me the fuck in there, Sophia,” I shout. “I haven’t checked them yet!”
“Well, I just did. It’s fine. Unless you’re trying to come in and creep on me naked,” she spits out.
“Would if I could, you fucking siren,” I mutter.
“What did you say?” she asks through the door, and I didn’t realize how close she got.
“Unlock the door,” I say loudly, “or I’ll pick it open.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she snaps.
On one hand, I’m glad I’m getting some emotion out of her. But on the other, I really don’t want it right now with a door between us.
I need to be fucking near her.
“Five,” I say loudly.
“What?” she hisses at me.
Squatting down in front of the door, I pull my ever-ready pack of lock picks from my back pocket. Some people carry wallets, I carry my lock picks and my credit card.
“Four,” I continue to count.
“I’ll stab you and let Fluffers eat you,” she says as she thumps the door with what’s probably her fist.