Protector's Claim

by Airicka Phoenix

“How could you possibly remember that?”

  He lowered his head a notch until I was falling into his eyes. “I always remember the things that make your eyes light up.”

  I sucked in a breath. “You need to stop that.”

  His head cocked to one side. “What’s that?”

  “Being too good to be true.”

  He squeezed my fingers. “Maybe later. Come on. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “But I’m not dressed for a day at a beach.”

  He tugged me along. “We can fix that.”

  I got no say as he pulled me into a women’s shop, nor did the sales woman who tried to help us. He shook his head and moved through the racks until he’d found the items he was looking for.

  A two-piece bathing suit in white and a cover were pressed into my hands before I was forcibly shoved towards the change rooms. The tags were snapped off before he yanked the curtains closed behind me.

  I didn’t know how he knew my size perfectly, but it all fit when I stepped out. He was already waiting with a bag for my old clothes and a pair of flipflops. I switched my runners as he shoved my clothes into the bag.

  “How do I look?”

  The bikini wasn’t as revealing as I would have expected. It was designed for comfort and actual usage in the water as opposed to simply showing off my boobs. The halter cupped both my breasts comfortably and looped in a knot at my neck and back. The briefs had little ties over the hips, but covered the important parts without crawling up my crack. All of it was covered by the sheer, white tunic that slipped off one shoulder and cinched around my waist. It stopped at midthigh and was light enough to allow the breeze to cool the sweat collecting along my skin.

  “Delicious,” he replied evenly, lighting every place his gaze lingered on fire. “Come. My turn.”

  The same way he’d selected my outfit, he found himself a pair of black trunks and man sandals. Nothing else.

  I had never been so happy in my life.

  The sight of his specimen of a body on display was the perfect topping to the day. Every rugged muscle gleamed under the blazing sun. They bunched and rolled with his every movement, drawing the eyes to his broad back and the structure of his front. I’d had a front row seat to all his splendor for most of the night, but in broad day light ... he was poetry in motion. I couldn’t even fault the glances he earned from passing women as we made our way to the pier.

  “What do you want to do first?” he asked, oblivious to all the eyes stripping him. “We can eat, if you’re hungry? What?”

  I shook my head with a chuckle. “Nothing. You’re just ridiculously hot.”

  “Ridiculously?”

  I chuckled harder. “You know what I mean. You’re gorgeous. I’m pretty sure there’s a law against that, or should be.”

  “Against being gorgeous?”

  I dug a finger into his side. “Stop that.” I squinted up at him warily. “You can’t tell me you don’t know. There hasn’t been a single woman we’ve passed who hasn’t nearly broken her neck getting a second glance.”

  That seemed to be news to him when he raised his head and actually looked around us for these passing women. I expected to see triumph or even arrogance when he spotted a couple. Instead, he huh’d and gave a shrug like he hadn’t noticed.

  “So,” he turned back to me without missing a beat. “Food?”

  Still shaking my head, I replied, “I want to go on the beach before the sun goes down.”

  Our afternoon was filled with slow kisses in the North Pacific Ocean and long walks under the darkening skies. When dusk set, we moved with the crowd along the pier, taking turns losing at the game booths and picking rides to go on next. We gorged on greasy foods and sweet confections until I was sure I’d be sick, but I loved it. It couldn’t have been better. I almost whined when he told me it was time to leave.

  “We could stay,” he coaxed into my ear. “I’ll get us a room and we’ll stay the whole week.”

  But I knew that wasn’t possible. Every fantasy had to end at some point.

  “I can’t miss anymore classes,” I mumbled.

  He kissed me.

  “Eight months, right?”

  I chuckled, and nodded against his mouth.

  He exhaled and raised his head. “All right, but know that your days are numbered.”

  I bumped my nose against his and earned another kiss. But I broke it after only a few seconds.

  “I have to ask you for something,” I whispered. “I’ll never ask for anything ever again, but you have to promise me this.”

  That sobered him up. His arms remained secure around me, but there was wariness in his narrowed eyes.

  “Not promising anything until you tell me what it is.”

  I figured as much, but a part of me had hoped he’d simply go in blind.

  “Can we keep this from my family until after graduation?”

  His frown deepened. “Why?”

  I looked away. “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m asking you to trust me.” I forced myself to find his eyes once more. “I’ll tell them myself after, and I’ll explain everything to you. I promise. Please?”

  Kieran remained unconvinced. I could see his mind working, flipping my request around up in there, trying to figure out the angles, but he never would. He would never understand, and I didn’t want him to.

  “Please?” I pressed. “Just this one thing.”

  “Fine,” he murmured at long last. “But right after graduation ... I’m not holding back anymore.”

  What choice did I have, but to agree?

  Chapter Twelve — Kieran

  I awoke Saturday morning to a slender arm draped comfortably around my waist from behind and soft, plump breasts cushioned against my shoulder blades. The owner’s face was nestled into the back of my neck, their breath warm on my skin.

  I took the loosely curled fingers and brought the palm to my lips.

  The woman sighed. “Morning?”

  I twisted onto my back and tucked her into the curve of my side. Her head found its favorite spot on my shoulder, spilling locks of glossy hair across my chest and tickling my chin.

  “Yeah.” I nuzzled the top of her head where she smelled of my shampoo. Of me. Nothing had ever smelled sexier. “Breakfast?”

  Her chin lifted and she squinted at the clock. “Not today. I’ll be late. I’ll grab something later.”

  “Or,” I twisted her onto her back and kissed her. “You can grab something from here and take it with you.”

  Her nose bunched up, partially out of embarrassment. “It’s okay. I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Out of what? A bagel? You’re right. That would be awful.” I left her scowling after me as I crawled out of bed. “Get in the shower. I’ll get you something to take.”

  She chuckled. “You’re very bossy in the morning.”

  “I’m always bossy.” I grabbed my trousers off the bench and stuffed my feet into the legs. “Get moving if you want that shower.”

  I left her snuggled amongst a tangle of sheets and padded downstairs barefoot.

  I made her an egg sandwich and a cup of coffee that I poured into a takeout cup. I tossed a yogurt and spoon into the baggie and set it on the counter just as she shuffled in wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing yesterday.

  Her eyebrow lifted at my paper bag. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  Reflexively, my face bunched in a grimace. “Really?”

  Laughing, she moved around the island to where I stood. “What? You don’t like it?”

  I grabbed her ass with both hands and hauled her into my chest.

  “Does it work for you?” I asked instead.

  Gabby laughed harder, but with a grated edge. “Not even a little. I hate that word.”

  I exhaled. “Thank God. I don’t think I could have handled that for very long.”

  She kissed me soundly and pulled away. “I’ll see you there at six?”

  “You’re not coming wit
h me?”

  She looked back over her shoulder at me. “You know we can’t go together.”

  “We can—” I objected, but she cut me off.

  “Kieran.”

  “I’m not letting you walk that stupid trail in the fucking rain, Gabby.” I followed her to where she stood. “You go with me, or you go with me. There is no other option.”

  She sighed and faced me. “You know I would give anything to go with you, but...”

  “But what? What will happen if you go with me? What will he do?”

  She said nothing, but the torment in her eyes almost made me take it back.

  I didn’t.

  I wanted to know what kind of power David had on her. Whatever it was, I knew it would piss me off enough to punch the guy’s teeth down his throat. I was just itching for a reason to tear him to pieces.

  “He’ll hurt me.” She stopped abruptly as if surprised by her own admission, but she didn’t say anything else.

  “Is that right?” My arms folded over my bare chest. “Okay.”

  She blinked. “Okay?”

  Of course it wasn’t okay, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I wasn’t going to say anything until I’d put David into the ground.

  I nodded. “Go get ready. I’ll see you at six.”

  “Kieran...”

  I went to her and took her face between my palms. “Go.” I kissed her lightly. “I’m going to take care of it.”

  Her face lost all its color. For one panicked second, I almost thought she’d faint.

  “No, Kieran—”

  “This is going to end,” I told her firmly. “No one is coming anywhere near you. Go get ready and I will see you at six.”

  I walked her to the front door, and stood back while she dragged on her coat and boots. I kissed her one last time before watching her hurry to her car and climb in behind the wheel.

  She waved once before pulling out of the driveway.

  I made sure she was gone before shutting the door and making my way to my office. My strides were long and purposeful, devouring marble with the same aggression coursing through me.

  I’d had enough. This bullshit was going to stop. Nobody was going to touch her, hurt her, take her from me. I was going to destroy Gabby’s nightmares once and for all. I just needed her to confirm what I’d already suspected, that he was hurting her. That was all I needed to know.

  Now, I was going to crush David Thornton into the ground.

  It took the punch of one number on my phone to get the ball rolling.

  Del.

  No last name.

  No first name.

  Just Del answered on the third ring.

  One word, “Yeah?”

  I dropped into my chair, phone clasped to my ear.

  “I have a job for you.”

  Del used to work for my father back in the day. He had no official title, no real job description. Hell, he wasn’t even on the payroll. I’d inherited him like I’d inherited all of Walter Kincaid’s life. But up until that moment, I’d had no use for that speed dial button.

  Whatever Del did, why would I need it?

  I was a businessman who ran a legitimate multinational conglomerate holding company.

  I didn’t deal in shady affairs as my father had.

  I didn’t secretly own and establish underground sex clubs and torture dungeons.

  I didn’t auction off women.

  Like Del, they had been given to me to deal with, but unlike Del, they weren’t nearly as useful.

  “Who?” the man on the other end asked.

  “Get me everything on David Thornton. Not the stuff I can Google myself. I want the stuff no one else but he and God know about.”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday.”

  I heard paper shuffling.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  The line went dead.

  I set the receiver down and leaned back in my chair.

  My original desire was to paint the walls with David’s brain matter. Killing the man was a sure-fire way of getting him out of Gabby’s life for good. It would end everything. But it wasn’t enough.

  I’d known the Thornton’s for seven years. Seven years where I’d attended nearly every Sunday dinner, every outing, every vacation, every party. I’d been present for nearly every mile stone that family had ever had ... for everyone, except Gabby. I knew she’d always been shy, a bit skittish, mostly nervous and withdrawn. I’d always assumed that was just the way she was; having a sister like Cordelia who demanded the spotlight, and a brother who was an utter embarrassment, I understood her uneasiness. But there had always been moments when things hadn’t added up, like the bruises on her face, like her slashed tires, like her barely muted panic every time David walked into the room. I didn’t know what he was doing to her, how he was hurting her, but it was going to end if it was the last thing I did.

  I pushed to my feet and padded to my room. It lingered with Gabby’s scent and the subtle hint of sex and sweat. The bed was a rumpled mess of sheets and stains. The only thing missing was her, and that fact never failed to annoy me.

  I made a mental note to empty space in the closet for her, save her the trip of going all the way home for clothes. If it were up to me, I’d build her a closet next to mine, but I’d pushed enough for the time being. I may have been ready to move things forward and have her with me indefinitely, but she always seemed nervous when I brought up the idea of her just moving in. I figured a week was probably not enough time for that kind of commitment. I didn’t like it, but I’d already waited three years. A few more months wouldn’t kill me.

  I climbed back into bed. I had no purpose being awake for a few more hours before the anniversary dinner party later that evening. The only thing I needed to do was shower and shave. That would barely take an hour.

  But no sooner had I dragged the sheets over me when my phone rattled across the end table with an incoming text. I raised my head and reached for it. The screen lit up with a swipe of my thumb.

  Gabby: “You still haven’t accepted my money transfer.”

  I grimaced. Part of me kept hoping she’d forget and the request would time out. But the stupid bank kept sending her reminders that I hadn’t taken the money yet.

  Me: “I will. What are you doing?”

  Gabby: “I’m at a stoplight.”

  Me: “Is it still raining?”

  Gabby: “Yes, but it’s slowing.”

  Me: “Stop texting. Watch the road.”

  I didn’t hear back, so I guessed she’d listened. I dropped the phone back on the end table and tried to get comfortable.

  IT WAS A LITTLE AFTER two when I opened my eyes again. The late afternoon had me cursing and rolling onto my back. The arm on the side Gabby normally occupied stretched out, seeking her warmth and finding only cold sheets.

  I groaned and twisted into my pillow.

  It was Saturday, for Christ sakes.

  It was my one day to do absolutely nothing, except snuggle with my woman, eat, fuck, maybe shower, then sleep some more. Instead, I needed to get my ass moving, get ready, and spend it playing nice with people I never liked in the first place.

  But I would for her.

  She was the only reason I continued putting up with David tongue fucking my ass at every chance. I’d never see her otherwise.

  I pushed out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. I showered and shaved, and dressed in my tux bottoms and the dress shirt. The blazer, bowtie, socks, and shoes were carried downstairs into the kitchen and placed on a chair. I left them there as I went in search of something to eat before heading out.

  I called my mother while I waited for my pizza pocket to warm up.

  Norah Kincaid was a complex woman. In all the years I’d known her, I knew absolutely nothing about her, except that she liked money and disliked children.

  In return, she knew nothing about me. The one time she’d been listening, she must have heard me mention something about lik
ing, or needing a journal. To this day, she still gives me one, already wrapped and signed every time she sees me. I have so many, I would need eighteen life times to fill them all. But it was a kind of affection and those were rare from her.

  “Kieran, how are you?” her fluid greeting radiated from the other end.

  “Hello Mother,” I mumbled back. “I’m just calling to see if you needed a ride to the party tonight.”

  The microwave chimed, signaling the completion of my pizza pocket. I dragged the hot plate from the device and set it on the counter to cool.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you. I have a car picking me up at six.”

  Silence followed, a long, awkward stretch of seconds where neither one of us knew what to say next.

  “Okay,” I relented. “I’ll see you there.”

  “Yes,” relief echoed in the single word. “I look forward to it. Drive carefully, Kieran.”

  She hung up.

  Quickly.

  I disconnected the call and immediately held one down on my speed dial.

  Gabby picked up on the second ring, slightly breathless.

  “Hey!”

  Compared to my mother’s brisk dismissal, her greeting washed over me like a warm tide.

  “Hey baby.” I took my snack and made my way to the table. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, no, I’m ... I was in the bathroom doing my hair,” she explained hurriedly, slightly distracted. “I left my phone in the kitchen. How are you?”

  I pulled out a chair and sat.

  “I’m trying to think of ways to convince you to skip tonight and fly out to New Orleans with me for beignets.”

  Gabby chuckled. “Yes! I would love that ... if this wasn’t an anniversary dinner. Their daughter not showing up wouldn’t look so great.”

  But you’re not their daughter, I wanted to point out.

  “Beignets,” I repeated around a mouthful. “All you can eat.”

  She made a sound between a grunt and a giggle. “Stop teasing ... crap!”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

  “Yeah ... stabbed myself in the eye with my mascara.” She mumbled a curse and sighed. “I keep meaning to ask you, how did you know about my love of beignets? You weren’t with me that day in New Orleans.”