A Billion Broken Pieces (Incongruity Series Book 2)

by Thandiwe Mpofu

  He sits on a chair directly in front of the bed, looking like he has been sitting there for a while. He looks a bit rough around the edges—but then, when has he never had that whole rough exterior about him?

  He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink.

  He seems restless and edgy, as if he has a feral need within him. In this moment, the danger in him is amplified to the highest degree and for the first time in my life, I feel like I should be afraid of him.

  He did change his clothes though, now wearing a black sweatshirt and black joggers. I think he must have come in from a run or whatever extremely serious exercise regime he is into to keep looking the way he does.

  Drop dead and take off your panties while you are at it, gorgeous.

  “Don’t you know how to give people some privacy?” I demand, annoyed even though I feel slightly embarrassed that he is looking at me, with all the tears running down my cheeks. I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like, let alone my face. I know I look horrible, because I also feel horrible.

  “Not when it comes to the things I own.” he says quietly, studying me for a beat.

  He looks at me like that at times. Like he can’t figure me out or he wants to say something. I’m not so sure.

  “You are such an asshole.” I tell him, my voice coming out too soft for my liking, taking out the intended effect that I was going for.

  He doesn’t say anything though, he inclines his head slightly, then he gets up and leaves the room through a side door that I hadn’t noticed before.

  I hear the unmistakable sound of running water, I guess that’s the bathroom, I hadn’t had the time to explore. Good thing I now know because I do want to use it too.

  I hope he isn’t running a bath for me, that would be more than embarrassing; it would be as if he is trying to tell me that I look worse than I feel.

  He comes back out, bearing a small face towel and then he proceeds to sit down on the bed, right next to me. He looks down at me for a split second then he leans closer to me, laying on the bed looking up at him. He then brings up the towel and proceeds to wipe my cheeks ever so gently.

  The towel is surprisingly warm, but I can’t look away from him. This is so out of character of him. A man like Gideon Black, with the shadows of danger in his very eyes, a man like that doesn’t just offer gestures of empathy and understanding out of nowhere.

  “The world must be ending.” I tell him while my mind races, trying to figure him out.

  “Why?” he gently responds

  “People like you don’t just offer kindness like. . .this.” I gesture to the towel, still feeling disoriented.

  “Kindness,” he says the word as if he has never heard it before, “Kindness is not a word I—or anyone who knows me—would ascribe to me.” He says with a hint of amusement.

  There must be a hidden trait there, I think.

  That’s an odd thing for anyone to say. I wonder what is prompting him to tell me all of this. Gideon isn’t exactly someone who I would say is, open. He is more than closed off, he simply doesn’t want anyone in his business unless he wants you there. Even then, he still keeps a lot of himself tucked neatly away, leaving you and the rest of the world guessing at the elements that make him.

  “Ruthless.” I offer, since we are in the mood of sharing, why not. “They call you ruthless. In business and everything else.”

  “They should.” he admits, seemingly not moved by the revelation. He even looks pleased that I know that little but potent fact about him and his street cred.

  His eyes haven’t left mine, piercing me in the early hours of the morning, or whatever time it might be. As if searching me, wondering if I see him as that too. Honestly, he gives me too many mixed signals, I don’t know which to pinpoint as him.

  But then again, a man like him cannot be defined by a mere word. Action, Gideon is action.

  “You seem okay with that.” I observe.

  “It’s acceptable.” He answers.

  “Why is it acceptable to you? Any other person would be affronted and would work to ensure that people only have nice things to say about them.” I state, trying to figure this enigma out.

  “Unfortunately for me, I’m not any other person.” He states.

  There is no supremacy in his voice or any trace of pride. He utters the words quietly, simply, as if stating a fact of life. And boy, is he right. Gideon Black is not ‘any other person’. You can’t even classify him as average or normal. A blind person could sense his powerful aura even!

  “You still haven’t answered my question.” I point out, our voices low in the large room. We can’t seem to move past the intimacy, even though I’m still feeling anger towards him.

  “Why I’m alright with being ruthless or why I’m in here?” He questions seriously, still wiping my cheeks with the face towel softly.

  “You know to which.” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Ruthless, baby, is what made Black House Inc. Ruthless is in my bloodstream, it’s in the meaning of my name.” His voice is deeper now.

  His eyes fighting a battle between frost, maybe as a result of what he is saying, and molten lava just from looking at me. I happen to fancy both.

  “And ruthless is what will keep you safe and alive.” He utters as he moves away and I sit up straight, wondering if I heard him right.

  “What do you mean by ‘alive’?” I demand, my blood rushing under my skin.

  “I mean just that. Last night proved that your life is under threat." Gideon responds, as he moves from the bed and walks across the room to stand by the floor to ceiling length windows, overlooking the beautiful, and coveted, view of Central Park

  “Max said he still doesn’t know who that was. And, I’m sorry if this hurts your ego, but maybe your ‘intel’ might be wrong this time. Who is to say they were after me?” I demand as I push away the duvet and sheets so I can stand up and have better leverage in this battle with Gideon.

  I mean, I can’t be under any kind of threat. That is simply ridiculous and wrong. I have kept my head down for almost twenty six years of my life. I don’t draw attention to myself and I certainly don’t invite danger.

  If anything, this is all about Gideon.

  “I, despite what you might think, am never wrong. Don’t confuse me with the men Demetri plays with.” Gideon grits out as he turns around to look at me.

  “Oh, I’m sorry your Highness, but after you blatantly lied to my face, I don’t think I trust anything you say.” I huff.

  Silence.

  “You know, I kept information from you because I didn’t want to spook you. As much as you might think your life is safe, it’s not.” Gideon states, his icy gaze locked onto me.

  “I am safe. Or at least I was, before you came bumping into my life, literally!” I accuse. This is all his fault, and he should know that.

  We stare each other down for a brief moment, tempers rising, fighting for dominance with the thick attraction that permeates the room.

  “I am man enough to agree that I am part ways responsible for dragging the lime-light onto you. After all, if I could find you, anyone else can.” He confesses, stepping closer to where I stand with my arms folded.

  “So, they all know then?” I question, “Them and whoever else is after me, they all know that I’m after Demetri?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Demetri has enough enemies to best a small army. Anyone could see you as a piece in the game.” He says, trying to pacify me.

  I know Demetri has enemies, I receive calls and threats that are directed to him. And anyone can use me?

  “Use me just like you are?” I challenge.

  “You might hate me right now, hell you might even want to murder me, but you will be staying here. Best you call your ‘boss’ and let him know you won’t be coming in.” He states with finality and arrogance, moving towards the door that I think leads out of the room.

  I rush after him.

  “You can’t order
me around or lock me up in your damn tower! Who do you think you are?” I demand and he freezes, his hand by the door knob.

  Good. I have his attention.

  “I will go back to my place and I will go to work. You can’t stop me.” I inform to his sexy, muscled back.

  God, this man was crafted. Stay on track Chloe, stay on track.

  He turns around slowly, then his heated gaze tracks me from my toes to the top of my head. As his gaze moves, I feel seared and scorched by it and it’s only then that I really take in what I’m wearing.

  I’m wearing a plain, black long t-shirt, with the Black House Trainer logo on it. It’s also a male t-shirt. And I gasp.

  “Did you. . .” I hesitantly question, suddenly too shy and embarrassed at my bare legs.

  I can’t believe someone undressed me last night and I can’t even believe that I hadn’t realized this once I woke up.

  Why hadn’t I stopped to question why I felt so comfortable? I mean, I accredited it all to the luxurious bed sheets but, it wasn’t due to them only. Evidently someone dressed me because I have no recollection of ever taking off the clothes Gideon helped me with.

  “You think I would let anyone else see you, much less touch you?” He grits angrily, as he stalks closer to where I stand rooted.

  Holding my breath.

  “I don’t know. . .” I start, but my voice breaks, affected by his nearness. “I don’t know what to expect from you anymore.” I admit quietly.

  I’m looking at my toes, the nail polish Sam forced me to apply a few weeks ago, now peeling off and they look really bad. I haven’t shaved my legs in a couple of weeks now too, feeling much too stressed and running all over the place at work and thinking of Gideon to even put my self care first.

  This is not a chick-flick movie where I’m thrilled and turned on that the guy I’m attracted to, helped me undress after I messed up my clothes no. I’m beyond embarrassed, I’m mortified.

  I hang my head low. Too many emotions and thoughts are ravaging me. I’m wishing that I had done things differently last night.

  Maybe I should have taken care of myself properly but I didn’t. Maybe I should have avoided the FBI, I most definitely wouldn’t be here with the sexiest, most self-assured man I have ever met, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

  “Look at me.” His hoarse voice meets my ears. It’s deep and so darn low. But it’s also a command that I immediately fulfill.

  Snapping my head up, I look up into his eyes that were waiting for me and I watch as they swirl and storm.

  “You drive me insane with each word that comes out of that sassy mouth. You are driving me to the brink of murder, and I can’t figure you out. But the one thing you are concerned about is who undressed you?” He questions, his deep voice rough and menacing. But so damn arousing.

  I don’t know what to say, so I remain mute. I watch as he battles with himself, his palms flexing. Will he touch me or not?

  “No one in this world will touch you.” He states possessively, with an icy calm about him that brings shivers down my spine.

  He looks like he would burn down the entire world if anyone and I mean anyone, touched my body or saw me in a way that he deems unacceptable.

  “Not to harm you, not to undress you. That’s for me to do.” He declares, as if making a solemn vow. “You can feel however you want about it, but it’s non-negotiable.”

  My breath rushes out of my parted lips and I feel like my heart can’t figure out what to do exactly. Pound so hard, it leaps out of my chest or stop beating at all.

  “You understand that?” He demands when I remain silent, shocked and aroused at his assertiveness.

  I nod my head, but he seems to not like that form of response. “Use words, baby.” he demands.

  “Yes.” I say, with a voice that doesn’t sound like mine.

  “Yes what?” He demands

  “Yes, I understand.” I concede. There is a juxtaposition happening in my head. Stay angry or lean in and kiss him? But, I’m still me so anger for the win.

  “I understand that I will not be staying here, nor will you be keeping me away from my responsibilities. I also understand that you, Gideon, can fight me on this, but you will lose.” I state.

  I decide to ignore the topic of my new dress attire. He did confirm that he was the one to dress me, and I really don’t want to dive into that topic. Not now.

  We stare each other down and neither one of us will back down. I can see that he is really angry but I want to applaud the way he is visibly trying to reign in his anger. To keep his cool.

  Oh, so he’s part of my club!

  “I don’t think you are taking this issue seriously.” He states with annoyance, after a while of a stare down.

  “Do you know who is after me?” I question.

  I see a flicker of hesitation cross his face and then it disappears. He remains silent and doesn’t say anything, proving my point. “See, you don’t know.” I say triumphantly.

  “That doesn’t mean danger is not there. I know for a fact that your apartment is compromised.” He informs me, clenching his jaw at my continued stubbornness.

  I thought that might be the case. He is right about that, my apartment isn’t safe. It didn’t feel safe last night before Gideon arrived either.

  “Okay, you are right about that. But I’m not staying here with you.” I state. No way am I staying here to be subjected to seeing his savage beauty each day.

  “And where will you go?” He questions, “It’s not like your friend, the good doctor, knows about you. Does she even know your full name?” He mockingly asks.

  “Charlotte, you don’t mind if I call you that do you?” he inquires as he moves to circle me, taking a whiff of my scent as he does.

  My whole being freezes, not because of the name he chooses to call me by, but by the way in which the syllables roll off his tongue.

  “That is none of your business.” I manage to utter, breathlessly.

  “For someone who wants honesty, you sure do know how to keep secrets.” He states when he comes to a stop. “Or do you want her to know what we are really doing here?” He asks, raising a brow

  I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say and I close my eyes, imagining the look on Sam’s face when she finds out I have withheld the most important information about myself. It would hurt our friendship no doubt.

  “Don’t taunt my life in front of me.” I grit out when the images assaulting me become too much and I almost launch a fist at him, but I hold myself back.

  “I’m just reminding you what’s happening. I’m offering you a safer option.” He informs in a soft voice after a while of pregnant silence.

  “Okay. But I still go to work.” I state with finality.

  “That can be arranged as long as you agree not to fight me when I add more security to your detail.” He counters.

  We stare at each other. I want to hurt him so bad, his gorgeous features don’t match what’s coming out his mouth.

  “Fine.” I say, annoyed. I know I can’t escape this one, even if I tried.

  “Very well. I’ll organize, then.” He nods.

  “I want Fred and John part of that detail.” I blurt out. Might as well go with the devil I know.

  He looks at me a while, studying me, then he nods his head in agreement. Then he turns to leave.

  I watch him leave, taking all his vibrating energy with him. Leaving behind a male scent that I would like to bottle up still. He is just so yummy even with his scent.

  “Oh, and by the way, there are clothes for you in the closet. We’ll talk about last night later.” He informs, looking at me intensely.

  Then he leaves.

  Chapter 9

  Chloe

  AFTER BROWSING THROUGH the expensive apparel, all of which was in my perfect size, including the shoes; I select a simple forest green maxi dress that oddly matches Gideon’s eyes. But if anyone asks, I just wanted something comfortable for all
the running around that I know awaits me when I get to work.

  I have no idea how Gideon managed to get all these expensive looking threads in here, much less in this quantity but if I was questioning how far his reach is, I need not look any further.

  He even had a whole case of expensive contact lenses for me, the exact shade of my preferred brown. He thinks of everything, and something tells me he placed the case in the top drawer of the bathroom himself, with a note attached to it.

  Can’t have you blowing your cover, now can we?

  Hope you find everything to your tastes and needs

  x. G.B

  The note was scrawled in a sexy, masculine penmanship that I imagine as belonging to him. And I’ve got that note tucked in my purse, just because I want it there. Sue me.

  Now, I’m in the car with a new guy I have never seen driving, Fred is in the passenger seat and John in the back of the SUV with me. There is a tense silence in the car, making me nervous.

  Fred and John both know that I’m still mad at both of them. How could they have been watching me past the times that I saw them myself. Here I was thinking this security thing is bearable seeing as they only pick me up from my apartment and then drop me off and work. At that point I would imagine they would disappear and do whatever it is that Gideon’s minions do, and then later they would pick me up once more and back home.

  But boy, was I wrong. Suckers.

  “You won’t be coming in with me to my office, now will you?” I question suspiciously as the car comes to a stop a few paces away from the front entrance of my office building. At this point I can’t put anything past these two.

  But at the same time, I doubt Gideon would jeopardize exposure, not when the situation is tense and moving in unpredictable patterns.

  We have the FBI and whoever wants me, watching my every move. I don’t want to bring any more attention to myself than I already have.

  “No.” Comes John’s curt reply as I watch him scan the area.

  All of them are not wearing their usual suits that make them stand out in a crowd, no. Today they have on some street clothes as if they wish to blend in with the frenetic flow of pedestrian traffic.