Page 11 of Sweet Temptation

"I know your mother does." He grins at us. I eye Damien before I look back at Spooner. "Send them the message, boys," he replies, waving his hand before he puffs his joint again. Two large angry goons grab hold of me and Damien, slamming us into the cold, hard ice on the ground.

I regret not grabbing my gun. I should have splashed his brains all over the snowy ground. "You'll find a way. If you don't, I'll collect my prizes and your teeth." Spooner grins, leaning over us. I feel hard metal connect with my jaw and a sharp snap as Spooner stands back up and walks toward his car. "I don't like disappointment," he yells into the wind just as his dogs drop us back onto the ice and retreat, following their alpha like the two bitches they are.

I pull myself to my feet and yank Damien up with my good arm, wiping the blood from my chin. "We're going to Chicago," I mutter, walking back to the car and climbing into the passenger seat. My brother climbs into the driver's seat, starting the engine. I pull my gun from the back of my pants and rest it on my thigh with a grumble.

"What's gonna happen?" Soren asks from the back. His own gun held between his fingers like he's ready to create havoc.

"We'll take care of it," Damien growls, slamming into reverse before heading in the direction we came.

I close my eyes briefly before the words spill from my lips. "I need you to pick up Hanna. She can't be alone if we don't get back with that money in time," I mutter to Damien. Though bringing her into this life is the last thing I wanted to do to any girl.

My brother nods and continues driving. Damien tosses his phone to Soren before he speaks. "Send a text to the hockey group-chat in my messages and let the boys know me and Damon will be gone for a couple of days."

"What's her address?" Damien then asks me.

I groan and press the dial on my phone. "Hello?" a weakened voice replies on the other end.

"I need your address, I need to pick you up. This is a matter of life and death," I ramble into the phone. Hanna responds reasonably, quickly rambling off her address before she hangs up.

Damien puts the car into park outside of the brown house. "Why do we need her?" Soren asks, his lips thinned into a line. Damien silences him with a wave as I climb out of the car. I pick up my pace, taking the stairs two at a time before knocking on the door with my good hand. A man about two years older than me with blonde hair answers the door and a glare reaches his eyes the moment he sees me.

"Damon…" A small voice comes from the background. I snarl at the man as he blocks the entrance. "He won't let me leave," she croaks. I feel rage as I slam my body into him, grabbing Hanna and racing back to the car. She slides into the back seat with me as Soren slides into the front seat beside Damien, and we drive away.

"Chicago, here we come," Damien says as he slams into third gear and spins onto the highway. I keep my gun hidden under my thigh. Not that I need a reason to, but I don't think someone as mundane as this girl needs to see it.

I glance over at Hanna and remember seeing the fear in her eyes when that guy wouldn't let her leave. "Did he touch you?" I ask Hanna, turning my full attention to her.

Hanna's eyes fill with fear as she shakes her head. "No… my gramz would never let him."

Soren's head turns to face us as he eyes Hanna. "You're really beautiful," he whispers as he watches her, and Hanna smiles as her eyes meet his. My eyes crinkle at his comment. The only thing he finds beautiful is the colour of blood when it's painted at his feet.

"Now, Soren, don't try to steal Damon's girl." Damien chuckles. I feel Hanna shift uncomfortably as the words leave my brother's mouth.

"So why are we going to Chicago?" she asks, turning to face me from a sideways angle.

"Business, and we are stopping to see our mother," Soren replies, lighting up a cigarette.

Hanna leans back, her eyes flickering with tiredness. "You can lay your head on my lap if you need to sleep," I whisper to her. Hanna smiles at me before she switches seatbelts and curls up with her head on my lap, drifting to sleep.

Damien turns the music on low as Hanna's soft breathing fills the car as she sleeps peacefully. I quickly light up a cigarette, inhaling slowly as I examine my hand. "That fucker screwed up my hand. It's not broken, but…" I wince as I lay my other hand over it.

Soren turns his head, a deep snarl on his lips. "He'll pay for fucking with the Saint family." That he will, with his blood coating my clothes and the pavement.

I gaze out the window once I ask Damien to put on "Face Down" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. My arm rests around Hanna as she sleeps peacefully on my lap. I want her to be mine. She's gorgeous, she has the cutest freckles, and Hanna makes my heart beat again after so long.

She's broken though, and I'm afraid if I get too close, I'll crumble her, and then she won't just be broken, she'll be pieces of glass shattered into nothing. I can't have her, though; it'll only put her in danger.

Sighing, I gaze down at her, my heart beating as I watch the beautiful brunette curled up on my lap. As my eyes avert from Hanna and gaze forward, I catch Damien watching me.

"If you want to be with her that badly, Damon, just make it worth her while," he says as he shifts another gear.

I nod, looking back at Hanna, then look up at my brother. "Damien, I'm afraid I'm going to shatter her." He knows that our life isn't for everyone. It gets people killed.

He watches me carefully before his words slip. "I haven't seen a smile on your face since Emily, so if she makes you feel something after all these years, I say go for it."

Soren glances at me through the mirror, and I can't help but frown a little. Emily was the first girl I felt anything for, but she was also the first person who died at my hands. I didn’t want to kill her, but she knew too much and couldn't keep her mouth shut.

About four hours into the drive, I make Soren switch spots with me, even though in reality he hates the idea of being stuck around people when he doesn't know how to show real feelings. My lips curl the farther we drive into the night.

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