“Shut the fuck up before you alert the whole floor.”
I don’t understand—I thought he was dead. He spins me in his arms and hoists me over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. He carries me as I hang upside down, my brain swelling with blood as chaos erupts around us.
“Fuck, elevators aren’t working.”
He opens a door and I glimpse stairs. Then suddenly the world tilts and he sets me on my feet. “Can you walk? We have to take the stairs.”
I put some weight on my ankle and the stairwell echoes with my cry of pain. I lost my shoes somehow.
“All right. That’s fine. I can carry you.”
He doesn’t wait for a response—I’m hoisted into the air again and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He lurches up the stairs. I’m amazed by how fast we’re climbing, how his breathing hardly seems to labor.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to my room.”
“Let me down!” I don’t want to go anywhere with him.
“Can’t do that.”
I pound his back as fury explodes inside me, but nothing seems to slow him down. We erupt out of the fire escape, my yells echoing down the relatively quiet floor, and then there’s a burst of cool air. Silas shuts the door and locks it. Then I’m lowered to the ground again.
“Careful—”
The moment I’m in command of my body, I rip my fist across Silas’s face. His head whips to the side as my knuckles smash against his jaw. It stings my hand, but he hardly looks fazed. He turns back toward me. A red mark rises on his cheek, mingling with the shadow of his stubble.
“Fawn—”
My knuckles slam against his cheek a second time. I want to destroy his perfect face, to shake that look of detached calm on his face, to make him feel a tiny bit of the horror I feel inside me. He doesn’t make a sound, but he grabs his jaw and squeezes it.
“How could you?”
The hurt trembling my voice echoes in the suite, where it’s so quiet. I can’t hear anything except the sound of the air blowing through the vents and my own ragged breaths. No gunfire. No screaming. Nothing.
“It was easy. I do this for a living, Fawn.”
I swallow my outrage for a moment—what did I expect? I knew who he was the moment I met him. There was never any hint of danger from him, apart from the warning looks he gave me over the dinner table when I’d grab his leg. I just didn’t think he would do it to me.
“How the hell could you kill my dad and then sleep with me? Was I some sort of sick game to you?”
“No.”
“Did you fuck me just so you could rub it in my face that you killed my father?”
I think that I can see a flicker of emotion on his face before Silas grabs my shoulders, his fingers biting into me.
“You make me sick. Get off!”
“Fawn, listen to me. I’m not a sadist.”
“You murder people for a living.”
“That doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I came to you because I wanted you.”
I stop struggling for a moment because it’s useless against a man like him. “Then why?”
“Because your father was a prick. He backed me into a corner and I had no choice.”
“So you’re the one who started all this insanity. It’s your fault all of these people are going to die!”
For the first time, his grip on my shoulders stings.
A shadow crosses his eyes and he bares his teeth, nearly spitting his words. “I had no idea what Viper was planning.”
“Bullshit!”
He releases me when I let out a yelp of pain and then he steps back, running his hands through his hair. I’ve never seen him look so agitated.
“The whole thing with your dad was just to keep me trapped here. He was going to decapitate the leadership of the Dragons, anyway.”
“Why the hell would he want you?”
Silas gives me a look. “We have a history.”
I don’t care. I’ve heard enough of this. I need to get down to the infirmary and find some way to help—God, all the people who are going to die.
Silas’s body moves in front of mine the moment I take a step toward the door.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The balls on this guy.
I feel fire blazing beneath my skin, and I’m surprised that he doesn’t scream when I shove his chest. “I’m not staying in the same room as my father’s murderer!”
“I’m not letting you leave.”
“Why?”
“They’ll kill you the moment you step out that door. You’ve seen what’s happened to the syndicate.”
Mrs. Lee’s tortured face flashes through my mind.
“I’m not sure what I’ve seen.”
He takes an angry step forward. “They’re butchering anyone connected with the old guard. It’s Viper’s way of cleaning house.”
“I’ll take my fucking chances. Now get out of my way.”
“No.”
He grabs my wrist as I lunge toward the door, and then he pushes me backward and I take a step on my injured ankle. Silas’s face creases with concern as a sharp pain stabs my muscles.
“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep fighting me. I’m not letting you out of this room, Fawn.”
Either stay with the man who killed your dad, or leave and get killed by Viper’s crew.
Some fucking choice.
I slump into the kitchen chair, burying my face in my hands as I hear Silas pull away to rummage through his freezer. After a moment he returns and pulls out a chair. Then I feel his fingers on my ankle, so gentle, and then a block of ice touches my skin and I flinch. He wraps a frozen bag of peas around my ankle, which rests on his lap. There’s a pulsing vein on his forehead, and a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face.
“Don’t touch me.”
His fingers slide up my calf, and haunted eyes gaze back at me. “We made a deal.”
“Fuck you and your deal. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“You won’t make it ten feet from this room without me, sweetheart. If you want to live, you’ll be my woman.”
My insides seethe because I know he’s right. I know I won’t make it out alive without him, and I know, deep down, that my father was a rotten son of a bitch. Silas still ruined my life when he killed him and doesn’t seem to give a shit about that.
Neither of us can do anything but stare at the door after that, as though waiting for news.
“What do you think is happening out there?”
He shakes his head. “It’s going to be a bloodbath.”
Images of bodies lying still, surrounded by pools of blood and dismembered limbs, slide through my head.
“All my friends—everyone I’ve ever known is out there.”
“If they’re smart, they’ll swear fealty to Viper and keep their mouths shut.”
“Fealty? What is this guy—a lord?”
Silas makes a sound through his nose and a very bitter look sours his face. “He probably thinks of himself as one.”
I try to piece it all together—the Powell Street Crew and its charming leader—the man with dazzling, boyish good looks. When exactly—how did he get so many supporters? I don’t believe it. There must have been some kind of mistake, or this is all a very violent dream.
“Go to sleep. I’ll stay up.”
Hours pass, and my eyelids start to droop. I rest my head over my crossed arms.
I’ll just rest. For a bit.
Then I feel something soft caressing my bare shoulders. A blanket. Silas’s hands pull it over me, and then he kisses the back of my head.
* * *
I feel his eyes on me the moment mine open. Silas sits near the door, away from the windows bathing the suite in sunlight. His back is flat against the wall, head slightly bent so that I can’t see his face, but there’s a gun in his hand. It hangs haphazardly in his fingers. His crimson shirt is rolled up to his elbows, his ti
e discarded on the floor.
It takes me a few minutes to remember why I feel sick to my stomach, and then I remember Mrs. Lee’s bloodless face and Silas’s confession:
I killed him.
The bitterness in my mouth makes my lip curl, and I stand up, blinking against the dazzling sunlight. I’m still wearing one of the shirts I stole from his dresser. His scent surrounds me, clinging to my skin, and I want to rip it off my chest.
I pad across the kitchen floor, my feet barely making a sound. My hands ball into fists as I approach his still body. My ankle smarts as soon as I put pressure on it, but I grit my teeth and ignore the pain. I’ll get away from him and then I’ll find out what’s really going on. I step over the hand with the gun and still my breaths, willing myself not to make a sound.
Rough fingers gouge into my exposed thigh as Silas clutches my leg with his free hand. His head raises, eyes slightly red with sleeplessness. His shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a length of mouthwatering, sinewy muscle, and an unexpected sliver of warmth makes its way into my heart as he strokes my leg and anchors securely on my upper thigh.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Anger rustles in my chest. “I’m getting the hell away from you.”
His greedy eyes slide up my legs as his hand grazes over my skin. Warmth explodes in the pit of my stomach, feeding me as his fingertips find the edge of my panties and slip underneath them to graze my ass.
No.
I grab his hand and throw it away from me, and then he seizes the hem of my shirt.
“Fuck!”
My foot screams in pain as I step back, and my knees buckle. Silas’s arms wrap around my body as I fall, and suddenly I’m cradled in his lap. My chest hammers with my heartbeat as his face comes within inches of mine. There are faint lines of sleeplessness under his eyes, but he still has the gun. I can feel it lodged under my legs as he holds me close. For a brief second I forget that he’s a monster who stole my life. I’m a half-naked woman in the arms of a man whose greedy eyes make me shiver with pleasure and fear. My arms flatten against his chest as he grabs the hem of my shirt—his shirt—and pulls up to expose my blue panties.
“That’s a sexy look for you. I’m sure the men out there would appreciate the view.”
My voice hardens. “I’m leaving.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Jesus Christ, you can’t keep me here forever!”
He laughs, a deep sound that shakes my body. “Yeah, I’ve got my work cut out for me. I can’t possibly keep you under control.”
His hands tighten around me, and then my body lurches into the air.
“Put me down, damn it!”
“This is going to get real old if you keep screaming the same thing—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap, tired of his cavalier attitude. “Do you know how many people are dead because of that lunatic?”
The springs on the mattress bounce as he drops me on the bed, and my chest tightens when Silas’s finely shaped eyebrows knit together. He rips off his shirt with more force than necessary and hurls it on the floor.
“I’m tired,” he growls. “I’ve been up all night watching the door.”
I slide my legs over the edge of the bed. He’s fucking insane if he thinks I’m going to slip into bed with him.
“I’m going out.”
He catches my arm before I can take two steps and hurls me backward. The bed catches my knees and suddenly his snarling face is against mine, and his fingers twist in my hair. Pain erupts from where his knee digs into my hip.
“I thought I made myself clear. You’re not going out. You’re staying here. That’s it. End of story.”
“Or you’ll what?” I scream through my pain. “You’ll slit my throat, too?”
“I don’t regret it,” he says, his warm breath billowing over my neck. “Stop pretending that you ever gave a shit about your dad.”
“He was my father—”
“He was a jackass,” Silas says, louder than ever, “and he got what was coming to him.”
How dare he?
I close my hand into a fist and I whirl it at his face, but he snatches it out of the air like a cat and pins my arm down over my head. He grabs the other one, smirking as I let out a scream of frustration. A wide, handsome grin spreads across his face as I struggle, twisting my wrists in his grasp.
“You can accept that, or keep wasting energy hating me.”
All I have to do is look at him to see that he doesn’t get it. He might be a Dragon, but he’s a new member. He doesn’t have a clue about what it’s like to survive in the syndicate. It’s not enough just to belong to someone. Everyone has a place, and I lost mine.
“I was someone when he was alive. Then I had to watch as they raided my suite and took all my things. And the place I grew up in decided I was only good enough for their whorehouse, or the streets.”
All the dreams I had about changing this place, climbing up the social ladder until I could actually make a difference, died the moment my dad was murdered. I look at him and feel another hot wave of fury ripple through me. He took it all from me.
He takes both wrists in one hand as he lowers his body over mine. I fight the wave of heat rolling over my skin and then circling over my cheeks. His hair hangs down over his face as he grasps my cheek, and a thrill soars in my chest. It’s joy and confusion whenever he touches me, and then his thumb plays with my lip and I feel it burn with desire.
“You were his, and now you’re mine.”
“I don’t want to be anyone’s.”
“You’d rather be a syndicate slut?”
I glare at him. “You just wanted to fuck around with Ryan Haines’s daughter. You don’t actually want to keep me around.”
“You’re more than just a girl I get to fuck. You belong to me. No one gets to feel how soft your skin is. No one gets to hear you moan. Just me.”
Then he strokes my bottom lip, and his thumb sweeps to the side as his mouth covers mine. I inhale as he kisses me, torn between wanting to bite his lip and wanting to give in.
He pulls back, breathing over my lips. “I’ve never had that before.”
He’s what? Never had a girlfriend before? I can believe it, with his lifestyle. Moving from place to place, never sure where you’re going to end up.
I’m falling under his spell. His tongue swirls in my mouth, and I kiss him back even though I’m supposed to hate him. I can’t fucking help it. He’s so warm, and he crushes his lips against mine, and I’ve never felt anything so incredible in my life.
I’ve never had it before, either.
All I had was a tryst with Paul, a one-time thing that I romanticized to the point where he might have declared his love for me, or I might have made it up in my head.
Silas releases my hands, and I immediately bury them in his curls. My heart flutters and I feel lightheaded when he pulls back, surveying me through narrowed eyes. I spot the freckle on his lip and count the gray hairs peeking through his russet mane. His hands slide down my body, and I feel it like a slow, sensual massage. Every touch is heightened. Then he slides me toward the headboard.
He pulls back for a moment, sitting on my thighs. A slow simmer builds deep in my core as my eyes feast on the expanse of hard muscle, his thick cock growing in his pants. He reaches down and grabs it, giving it a swift tug, and I don’t think I’ve seen anything so hot in my life. Jesus. Every inch of me burns as if there’s a wall of fire next to us. Silas’s blazing eyes rake my body, and he lets out a sort of low hiss that makes my core pound. Then he moves back and curls his fingers in the elastic of my panties, tugging them down my thighs with a torturous slowness. The smile he gives me sends a shock of heat rippling through my abdomen. It occurs to me that I’ve never had a guy take my clothes off, and I’m surprised by how erotic it feels. The panties dangle on my feet, and with one quick jerk they’re flying across the room. His warm hands splay over my inner thighs and my
sharp gasp hits the cool air, which feels as though it’s trembling with electricity.
Yes, I know that I’m supposed to hate him—I do hate him—but how am I supposed to ignore his hands? How am I supposed to shove him away, when every cell in my body screams for more?
He makes a pleased sort of growl that rumbles at the back of his throat as he bends over, grazing my thighs with his lips. Fuck, he’s so close. I’m aching for his head to bend down—just a little lower—and put those lips to work on my throbbing pussy.
But instead his hands grab my hips, my body heating as he slides them under my t-shirt, exposing my stomach, the fabric tugging over my stiff nipples. I gasp as he seals his mouth to my breast, sucking hard as he flicks his tongue. He keeps pulling the t-shirt over my shoulders, and then he stops when it covers my eyes. His mouth pulls away from my breast, and the cool air hits the wet skin. His hand immediately covers it, kneading me slowly. Holy fuck. I’ve never been blindfolded like this. Every sensation is magnified, even the little sounds he makes—the rustling of the sheets and his low, measured breaths.
I search for him, feeling his warmth over my face, but he makes a tutting sound.
“No, no, no,” he chimes. “Lie back, sweetheart. I’m going to make that body mine.”
Then something freezing touches my wrist, and I jump in surprise. The hard edges bite into my skin as he wraps it around me, and then I hear a telltale series of clicks.
“What the fuck is that?”
A metallic sound of something clanging against the wooden headboard makes me instinctively pull back my wrist, and the hard edges cut into me. They surround me in a perfect circle just like a—
“Did you handcuff me?”
“Yes.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Just pretend I’m fucking you against your will.”
How can I pretend that I’m not close to screaming at him to get on with it—to fuck me already? And then I feel like I’m facing a mountain of shame because I am practically begging this hitman to fuck me. The same hitman who killed my father and gives no shits about it. He doesn’t give a damn about me.
My flare of outrage is cleaved in two when suddenly his hands glide down my thighs again, and he parts my legs. His hair tickles my skin, and then I feel his steamy breath on my wet pussy. It contracts hard, and then he lowers his face. A wet muscle slips inside my pussy. Oh my God. Is he eating me out?
His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance) Page 29