Page 13 of Mercy in Betrayal

I hold on to it against all reason, my fingernails digging into the metal as I clutch it to my chest with one hand and try to fight him off with the other. There’s only a couple hundred dollars in this little box, but it’s my job.

I feel a fingernail rip.

“Stupid bitch.” His hand curls around my throat, lifting me several inches into the air, and instinctively, I drop the box to grab at his wrist with both hands. At the same time, another set of hands appear, yanking my attacker away from me. I fall to the ground in a heap, my hands fluttering to my throat as I watch my savior grapple with the would-be thief. He punches him viciously in the face, sending him staggering backward a few feet, and as a few people emerge from a building, the robber rips away from my rescuer altogether and flees toward the street.

He turns to look at me then, and my breath catches in my throat at the ferocity I see blazing in his eyes. One word springs to mind and forms on my lips.

Hero.

Chapter 5

Enzo

Playing the good guy isn’t exactly in my nature. But, for Rowan, I will make an exception. She’s wearing a look of complete shock as she continues to stare up at me. Drawn by her early screams, security has reached us, and questions spill from their lips. Rowan blinks several times and frowns.

I turn to the men who should have been here the entire time and not just arriving after the incident. She could have been hurt. Well, that’s not completely true since I staged the entire robbery, but these men don’t know that.

I hold up a hand. “Don’t fire a million questions at her; she’s clearly shaken. Give her a moment.” I turn to Rowan and reach out, just touching her elbow, to help steady her. The sweater covering her pale colored blouse doesn't stop the warmth of her skin from sinking into my touch.

“Thank…you.” She stammers through the two words and frowns again.

I smile at her.“You are very welcome.”

Her hand wraps around my forearm; my fingers still rest on her elbow. I’m waiting for her to sob and turn hysterical, but she seems to stand taller. Her shoulders relax, and she takes a small but steady inhalation. “Thank you.” Her words are strong this time.

Her blue eyes clear from her earlier shock. I’m not sure what shocked her more, me rescuing her or being robbed in the first place. But right now there is a certain calm on her pretty face.

The red curls that fall down her back and across her shoulders look soft and silky, and I’m tempted to reach out and take a strand between my forefinger and thumb. I’m all too aware of her security still standing behind us, though. I ignore them as I ask my next previously rehearsed question. I had no idea what to say to a damsel in distress, but according to the internet, it’s to ask her if she needs anything.

“What do you need?”

Her gaze darts to the men behind us, and the clear blue of her eyes clouds over in a fascinating way. It’s clear that the men are making her uncomfortable.

“I need… I need some space.”

I finally release Rowan’s elbow, surprised when she doesn’t take her hand off my forearm as I turn to O’Rourke’s men. I want to read them their rights on how incompetent they are. Words form on my lips, and the men shift their stance. I’m sure my features convey the fact that I’m pissed, and I smooth my expression, remembering at the last second that I’m nobody to these fools. I’m not Enzo Scarpetta; I’m just a bystander who happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“You guys can leave; the lady just needs some space.” I relax my jaw, conscious that my words are coming out through gritted teeth.

They eye me consideringly before deciding, for whatever reason, to leave us alone.

Jesus. Strike fucking two. If she was mine right now, these men would be on their fucking knees begging for their lives.

I play the part of Ordinary Guy and ignore their incompetence, turning back to Rowan as they walk away. My fingers find her arm again. The pale skin of her face is flawless, like porcelain. I could stare at her all day.

Instead, I glance around the courtyard and lead her to a bench that she slips into easily. Only then does she release me. I return to the cash box and gather its contents off the ground as she watches.

It had taken me a week to track her down. Evie and Cassidy had been very careful. I understand why—with the death of Cassidy's brothers, he wasn’t letting Rowan out of his sight, and he wasn’t at fault for me finding her. It was the woman living with them.

Some old Irish woman that they brought from across the sea. She wanted to do her own shopping, it seems, and she wasn’t as careful as her employers.

Loose change from the cash box has spilled all over the courtyard. I would never typically bother with something like this, but figuring I should put on a good show, I work on collecting every coin. After a moment, I hear the click of heels, and she settles beside me.

Her fingers are long and delicate as she gathers up the bills before stuffing them in the red cash box. Her gaze bounces across the pavement as she tries to locate every coin. “This was my first day, and look at the mess I made. I’m going to get fired.” She drops a handful of coins into the box and runs a hand through her long, red, curly hair.

Her Irish accent thickens as she gets more upset. Her fingers snag on the curls, and she withdraws her hand, her cheeks pinkening. “How could this happen? And on campus?” Her calm is dissolving as quickly as a pill in water.

I reach out and wrap my fingers gently around her wrists. She freezes, and wild blue eyes rise to meet mine. I want to ask her why the fuck she is working, why does she want to go against the grain. I want to drag her to feet and march her back to my home, back to my bed. With that thought I rise, pulling her to her feet and directing her back to the bench.

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