by R. Scarlett
I climbed up onto the platform and gripped Dolores by her arms.
Her brown eyes were glazed over and when she looked at me, she looked right through me. They had drugged her.
“Dolores, I’m here, it’s okay,” I said, combing her hair off her face. I shrugged out of my coat and draped it over her shoulders. When we got outside, she’d be freezing in the cold wind.
I wrapped an arm underneath her armpits and helped her down. She wobbled in her heels, but I let her lean against me as she tried to form sentences that didn’t make sense.
“Let’s go,” I told Beau whose mouth had been twisted into a frown I didn’t understand.
He led the way, our heads lowered, trying not to bring attention to ourselves.
It was as we passed into the entrance of the building someone stepped in front of Beau.
“You,” a young guy hissed, his head bald. He jabbed a stubby finger into Beau’s chest, sizing him up. “You’re…Beau Knight.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
At the mere mention of his name, the entire group of men that had been drunkenly laughing sobered up.
A few stood, gawking at us.
“Where do you think you’re going with her?” one asked, his fingers touching Dolores’ hair.
I jerked us back, glaring at him, placing Dolores behind me for protection. “Don’t touch her.”
Dolores leaned against my back, murmuring, her hands clenching my t-shirt. I was her only protector. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her again.
A few laughed at my aggressive gesture. A few sneered.
“She’s my property,” the man answered back. “I own this place.”
“You may own the place, but you don’t own the people,” I snapped.
He chuckled and stepped closer.
Beau moved in front of me and the man paused, glancing at him. “I never thought I’d see a Knight in my club. Especially not Beau Knight.” He let his mouth hang open, his tongue sliding across the tops of his teeth. “You came here, to a place that sells demons, and you expect to leave for free?”
“You don’t want to anger him,” I said, lowly and the men glanced past Beau at me.
“No?”
I shook my head and moved my hand back to grip Dolores’.
Beau struck—fast, like a god, like a lightning bolt and the man didn’t stand a chance. He went down, his back colliding with the floor. Another man lunged forward, but Beau, born in darkness, born in chaos and blood, took each of them down.
Then one man pulled out a handgun and pointed it at him.
Beau paused, glaring at him, his chest heaving fast. “You will let us go.”
The owner cocked a brow. “You think so?”
Beau glanced at the entrance and then back to the group of hunters. “Scorpios has already surrounded the building.”
I gave him a look, shocked.
“Demons wanting the fresh blood of hunters,” Beau spat. “You can shoot me, but that won’t stop me. You’ll have to behead me.”
Beau lunged, gripping the man’s wrist and snapping it, the sound echoing in the silence, and then pushed him down so his head bashed against his kneecap.
One of the hunters marched toward us, his eyes bright with rage, swinging a chain at his side.
My stomach twisted, but when he reached us, I jerked forward, only for the chain to hit across my side. My bones ached, and I held back a cry, but I didn’t move, I didn’t let go of Dolores as she hid behind me.
I slammed my fist into his cheekbone and he wavered. I spun, gripping the chain and wrapping it around his neck. He choked, his fingers clawing at my grip. I waited until I felt his movements grow weak and sluggish and I let go, watching him collapse, gasping for air.
A few men backed away at the sight of their comrades unconscious on the floor or groaning in pain.
Beau, breathing heavily, glanced back at me.
I smiled weakly and helped Dolores out of the building. I noted the few black cars parked outside and Beau jerked his hand at them, sending them away. He had far too much power in his control.
The cool night air hit us hard and before I took another step, Beau had lifted Dolores into his arms and cradled her to his chest. She snuggled in, clinging to him.
My chest grew warm and tight at the sight and my eyes drifted up to his features. His eyes were dark and distant, but he was showing me his kindness, his tender underbelly that he rarely showed anyone.
I wanted to kiss him then.
I wanted to hold him.
We walked silently back in the night.
Instead of returning to Beau’s apartment, he directed us to a shabby building in Brooklyn. Above a painted black door was a sign reading Unique New York. When we entered into what looked like a music store, I glanced back at him, a brow raised.
“Trust me,” he said and moved past him, Dolores’ wilting body still tucked into his arms.
Trust me…
I repeated his words, his voice so low and deep, swimming in my chest and head. I did trust him, against my instincts that had always told me to run before I got hurt or danger approached. Beau was the danger, but I didn’t want to leave him. I had given him my body, but he had somehow taken my heart as well.
“Hey,” a man’s voice said over blaring rock music and when we made it to the back, into a tiny, outdated kitchen, I froze. The man had long dark hair messily pulled back into a bun and a thick beard. He smiled at me and then looked back at Beau. “Another Knight wants my help? I’m flattered.”
“We need to check on her, Lance. To see if hunters put anything harmful in her system,” Beau spoke, leaving no room for argument and glared at the stereo still blaring music.
I paused, focusing more on the man again. I had heard about Lance. He was said to be a legendary warlock and I knew he had helped Molly and Tensley in the past. My shoulders relaxed. He was tall, lanky, and in his thirties—not what I had expected when I heard the term “warlock.”
“We really need your help,” I said, stepping closer, begging him with my eyes.
He chewed at some food in his mouth and stared back at me. Then straightened off the counter and gestured to follow. “Spare room upstairs.”
He led us up rotten stairs and down a dark hallway, opening a door. Beau went in first and laid Dolores on a queen size bed. He pulled up the covers and tucked her in snuggly. It was the tiny gestures of kindness from him that made my heart squeeze tight. A man so reserved, so closed off, and still showed kindness to others.
Like me.
Like Dolores.
He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead for a moment and stood, moving toward Lance. “She’s a bit hot. Can we give her anything to reduce the fever?”
Lance hummed. “Let me first check on what’s in her system.” He walked toward the bed and I crossed my arms, my heart beating out of my chest. Please be okay. Please be fine.
Lance grabbed a box filled with leaves that sat on a desk in the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. We watched in silence as he took a leaf and glided it over her arm. He hummed again and placed it back in the box, his fingers dancing over each leaf until he chose another one. He swept it up her arm again and it reacted immediately.
The leaf, a dull green, turned black, scrunching up in between his fingers. “Redwood. Used to incite lust and loosen the victim’s body and mind.”
I clenched my jaw. Those fucking bastards.
“What can you give her?” Beau asked. I was thankful that he was here or I’d be trashing the room. His finger traced down my spine and stopped at my lower back. It was a gentle touch, but it was what I needed most right now. Someone to lean on, someone to depend on.
Lance stood, putting the box back on the desk. “I’ll give her some willow berries mixed with soda. Should clean it out of her system by morning.”
I nodded, but my eyes were glued to Dolores, motionless on the bed.
“She’ll be fine, Alexandra,” Beau whispere
d to me after Lance left the room. He squeezed my shoulder, but I couldn’t look at him. “Cucciola.” He moved in front of me and with his two fingers lifted my chin to meet his soft gaze. Soft. I couldn’t recall ever seeing his eyes so open and warm. “You found her. You saved her.”
My bottom lip quivered. “I’m just…overwhelmed.” I still couldn’t process she was here, she was alive.
Too many emotions were piling up inside my body, when I went to speak again, I choked on them all.
Beau shushed me, stroking my trembling jawline.
“She’ll need help,” I said, my mind racing too far ahead, but I needed to focus on something else other than my tangled emotions. “She’ll need to see a professional. Scorpios could help with that, right?”
“Alexandra,” he whispered, his fingers cupping my cheeks and my eyes shot up to his. Then his brows furrowed as he stared at me, his fingers moving leisurely across my skin. “Did you ever talk to someone?”
A lump grew in my throat and I tried to hide, tried to escape his haunting, all-seeing gaze, but he found me, time and time again. “No, I didn’t.”
“Then maybe you should see someone,” he whispered, too faintly I almost missed it. “It’s not too late.”
I twisted my mouth ruefully and then paused. I frowned at him. “Did you ever?”
That made his entire body grow stiff against me and he scowled at the floorboards.
Dolores’ whine broke me out of my thoughts and I jerked toward her. Her hands pulled at the sheets and her cries of panic got caught in her throat. I climbed onto the bed and gripped her shoulders.
“Dolores, Dolores! It’s me, Lex! You’re okay,” I told her, my hands stroking her trembling cheeks, wet with tears.
She couldn’t speak, and her eyes were still distant, still seized in a nightmare I couldn’t reach her.
“Here,” Lance said, appearing beside the bed with a cup of liquid. “She’ll have to drink it.”
I huffed. “She’s barely conscious. How can she drink that?”
Beau moved behind me, a hand resting on my shoulder. “Calm her down, Lex.”
I glanced back at him, my stomach twisting in a panic.
I turned back to Dolores and moved closer, pressing my hands to her face. She wept, shaking her head.
“Dolores,” I whispered, stroking her cheeks. “You’re okay now. I’m here. Lex, your friend. Do you remember me? My voice?”
I stroked her wet hair off her face. Gripping one of her clammy, shaky hands, I brought it to my face, letting her feel my features.
She stilled.
“It’s me,” I whispered.
Her eyes blinked, and I saw the moment she recognized me, the moment she crashed into the present and out of the darkness. Her one eye was dark brown while her blinded eye was a light blue.
“Lex?” Her voice croaked, hoarse and raw.
I nodded, wetness building in my eyes. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
Her lips trembled. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
I shook my head and crawled closer, taking her in my arms. “I’d never leave you.”
She cried into my shoulder and I let her, combing her hair. She had done the same for me when my nightmares happened after the hunters. Nothing would stop me from doing the same for her.
I reached for the cup in Lance’s hand and sat back, gesturing to it. “This is willow berries. It’ll clear any drug they put in you by morning. But you need to drink it.”
Dolores stared at the cup, but nodded, slowly taking it in her shaking hands. When she brought it to her mouth and tasted a gulp, she cringed, gagging.
But she didn’t stop.
With each sip, she coughed, composed herself and took another one until the cup was empty.
“Impressive,” Lance said, staring at Dolores in amazement. “Usually I need to hold people down to drink this stuff.”
“Dolores is a warrior,” I told him, smiling at her. She had always been tough. It was how she survived so long on the streets by herself.
Lance nodded at the empty cup. “It’ll make you drowsy, but it’ll work.”
“We’ll let you have some privacy,” Beau said, and I glanced up at him, but he had already turned and left with Lance.
I snuggled beside Dolores as the willow berries began to take over, making her drowsy. We both stared at the dark ceiling. It felt like old times. Of the two of us huddled in the abandoned apartment and using each other for warmth.
“I don’t want to fall asleep,” Dolores murmured after a moment. “I don’t want to wake up if this is a dream.”
I nodded. I felt full and empty at the same time. I found her hand and gripped it. “It’s not a dream, Dolores. You’re safe now. You’re free.”
I watched her smile and slowly, she fell asleep.
I thought of my words. I was safe…but my soul wasn’t. My soul was beginning to attach itself to Beau’s and if I gave in to temptation, the way I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to let him go.
After an hour of tossing and turning, I stood, tiptoeing down the hallway and down the stairs. In the darkness, I could see Beau’s outline on a plaid couch. I walked quietly to him and crouched down.
His mouth twisted in his sleep. “What are you doing, Alexandra?”
At his sudden deep voice, I shuddered. I guess he wasn’t asleep. He turned his head, opening his eyes to stare at me.
I bit my lip and pressed my knee onto the edge of the couch. At my action, Beau paused, and then shifted onto his side, allowing me room to slide in beside him, completely flushed together.
He laid his arm out underneath my head and sighed heavily.
“Thank you,” I whispered to his chest, afraid to catch his gaze. My fingers touched the edge of his stomach and I felt him shiver.
He swallowed loudly. “It was nothing.”
I smiled at his attempt at brushing it off. “It meant everything to me.”
We laid in perfect silence and then his fingers curled around my hip as if he was afraid I’d leave.
Little did he know, I wasn’t going anywhere without him.
Whenever I moved, my erection stroked against her leg. I cursed inwardly. Two hours later and I had awoken with her curled completely around me, her thigh draped over my leg, opening herself up to me in ways I had dreamt of.
I didn’t want to wake her. The last thing I wanted was for her to wake up and see the raging erection she’d caused. I wanted her, physically, but if we crossed that line, it wouldn’t be fair to her. She needed someone who could care for her emotionally and mentally. I was a walking disaster of emotions. She needed a man that lived in the present, a man who could envision a future, not stuck in his past and haunted by his nightmares.
Lex hummed, stirring against him.
“I want to heal you,” she whispered, and I froze. Her head tilted up and met my gaze, her baby blues taking me in. “I want to help you heal all your pain and darkness. I want to take it all away.”
Those five fucking words destroyed me in more ways than one. She wanted to heal me, to take care of me. My chest pounded, along with my cock.
I wanted her—I wanted her selfishly for myself, but I knew I was so damaged. So ruined.
“I’m toxic, Alexandra,” I whispered back to her, surprised by the gentleness of my own voice.
She shook her head. “I see the good in you.” She brushed her upper lip with the tip of her tongue and slowly lowered until her mouth met my bottom lip and sucked. Fuck, she tasted musky and sweaty, the same as between her legs.
I palmed her round cheeks and circled my hips against hers, the friction only sending me into more of a frenzy. The friction pleasing, but not enough.
She broke the kiss and peppered them along my cheek, each one a prayer and an omen left in its wake. “You have to let go, we have to both let go of the past.”
I stared at the darkness. I couldn’t let go though. I couldn’t let go of Valentina and our unborn child. Two peopl
e killed because of my needs, because of my selfishness to feel more human than monster.
She took my mouth again and I didn’t fight her.
Her hand skimmed down my happy trail and into my slacks, finding my rigid length. I moaned into her mouth as she pumped me, her fingers circling the sensitive head.
“Is this too much?” she asked breathlessly between kisses.
My fingers dug into the soft roundness of her butt cheeks. “You’re tempting me to do something wrong.”
She giggled at my raspy voice, too strained to form more words. “I want you to do wrong to me, Beau.”
“You’d be cursing yourself to me.” I moved her so that she sat directly on my hard length, running my callused hands up her smooth, large hips. I stared at her features, shadowed by the darkness, soft and full, as she began a slow rhythm against me, moaning quietly.
I wanted her, couldn’t resist her—and my self-control had been pulverized to nothingness.
“I want to heal your soul,” she whispered. She tugged on the edge of my boxer-briefs, pulling them down to reveal the V-shape of my cut abs towards the tuft of dark hair. My hefty length spilled free and I groaned at the touch of her wet panties. I wanted to tear them off and slide in deep and slow, torturing her, showing her how good I’d make her feel for days, months, years to come. I’d worship her, body and mind.
She wants to heal your soul.
And then a ringing sound echoed in the room. Lex jolted, and I groaned as she rubbed against my erection.
“Fuck,” I hissed.
“What’s that?” she whispered, looking around the room.
I sat up, digging into my pockets. “My phone.”
When I slid out my black phone and saw the Caller ID, I froze.
My mother.
I marched down the avenue with Lex trailing behind me. I’d rather she not come, but she argued with me, saying Dolores was safe with Lance. I wasn’t going to make her walk back to my place by herself.
My anger was a wave and I knew Lex felt it by the way she continued to glance at me. Seeing her so exposed in my arms and saying those things to me made my chest ache and I rubbed at the scar across my left pec where Fallen had ripped my heart out. The heart that had been growing only light by light over the last ten years, a reminder of my humanity, of my former self—the man I would never be again. I didn’t want to care, but it seemed my mind and body felt different. Just like Valentina, I craved to protect Lex.