Page 40 of Protect Me

She grabbed her bag on the way out. She hadn’t even unpacked anything before he tried to get beneath her dress. But in his defense, I’m not sure I would have been able to wait half as long as he did. I probably would have thrown her ass against that marble wall and fucked her in front of her entire family at the ceremony. Would have spread her thighs and made her bleed in front of her own blood.

Either way, it made it much easier to abduct her from her guarded ivory tower.

We sit in the car, and excitement courses through both of us. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. Then she throws back her head and laughs.

“What the hell are we doing!” she screams.

It’s not a question. We’re very much aware of what we’re doing. We’re making a life-altering decision to be together, which could end up with one or both of us dead.

“Being incredibly stupid,” I tell her as I throw the car in reverse.

She shrugs. “Or smart.”

We look at each other. We know what it is. But having her by my side will be worth all the stupidity. All the running.

She sobers and brushes back her dark hair. “Well, where are we going?”

“I have a ‘safe house’ of sorts.” I put the car in drive and head east.

“A safe house? Why?”

“I’ve spent most of the last two decades guarding others from really shitty people. I’ve made plenty of enemies over the years.”

Her eyes narrow. “I don’t even have a safe house.”

I chuckle. “Well that’s stupid.”

It’s not like a safe house in an action movie. It’s a house just outside the state, and its paper trail doesn’t lead back to me. I’ve had to use it twice. Once when I stayed with a stripper I was trying to protect from her enraged pimp, and another time when I had to keep a witness safe until their court date. Not once have I used it to protect myself.

I normally welcome people to come at me, but I won’t risk others I’m tasked with defending. If I had known how I’d feel about Isabella, I might have whisked her away to my safe house to keep her from being forced into marriage in the first place, but I didn’t realize just how strong my feelings were until they took her from me.

Now I plan to only be away from her if there’s no more life in my body. I will die before I let them take her away again.

I reach over and caress the back of her neck. “I’m glad you came with me.”

“I didn’t really have a choice. I wasn’t going to sick my father’s dogs on you or put the blame on you when I’m just as guilty for making you fall in love with me.” A smirk tugs at her lips.

I scoff. “I-I don’t...” My voice trails off.

I want to tell her she didn’t make me fall in love with her. I’ve never spoken those words to a woman so candidly, and I don’t know if I can say them. It’s hard enough to let myself feel that way. But I can’t deny the truth of her accusation. After all, you don’t risk your life like this for someone you don’t love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Isabella

We pull up to the small house in the middle of nowhere Connecticut. Honestly, the bathroom at my house was probably as big as this whole place.

Towering trees surround us on all sides, and the smell of late-night dew wafts toward my nose as soon as I open the car door. I stand and stretch my legs, then I take a good look around at the place.

One faint yellow light illuminates the small concrete porch. Spiderwebs criss-cross and twist around the rusting white metal fixture. It’s so much different from the home I came from.

Home.

It can never be my home again. I’ve turned my back on my flesh and blood.

It still stings a little to think of what I’ve left behind, even though my father sold me off like livestock. I’m more than a prized broodmare with a mile-long pedigree, though. I could have had an entire world laid out in front of me if I just stayed married to Antonio, but I’m not that kind of girl and that wasn’t the life I wanted for myself. Why my father thought I’d be complacent when I’ve always been anything but is beyond me.

But I guess it didn’t help that I went along with it, even if I knew I’d be miserable for all of eternity. So maybe I’m more of an accomplice to my own unhappiness than I want to believe.

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