Page 16 of Unforgettable

7

Rose

Several minutes later,we pull into an underground parking garage, the door is opened as soon as we stop by a very large, very scary looking man. He has dark hair and even darker eyes. He has a scar on one side of his face. I cringe at the realization that it’s a knife wound. My inner thigh itches and I have to clench my fists to prevent myself from touching the spot over the scar there that’s a perfect match to this man.

I recoil back from him as he reaches into the car to grab ahold of my arm. His grip is firm but gentle. The dark, deadly look in his eyes has my mouth growing dry. This man could break me with one hand tied behind his back and not even blink. I force my brain to calm. Matthew isn’t freaking out, so this guy has to be safe. Just because he looks scary doesn’t mean he’s a danger to me. Despite his size and his hard look, he helps me carefully from the SUV.

“Slade, this is Rose,” Matthew introduces us as he slides out of the SUV behind me. “Slade will be your security detail if you should need to leave the residence. He’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”

Slade nods down at me and attempts a smile. I assume he’s trying to put me at ease, but he shouldn’t have bothered. Nothing he does is going to minimalize the level of lethal energy he puts out just standing here. “Rose,” he says in acknowledgment.

I shiver at the tone of his voice. It’s gravely and just as menacing as the rest of him. I can imagine him chewing on broken glass in his spare time to keep that level of menace in his tone. My anxiety rises with every breath I take, and the need to flee is so strong I have to force myself to stay standing still. Thankfully, Matthew is more than willing to allow me to cling to his arm. I manage to position myself in a way that Matthew is between Slade and me. I wearily stare at the hulk of a man. Lord have mercy, where did Matthew find this guy? My voice has completely escaped me, and the only thing I can concentrate on is breathing. Even that is a chore.

Slade notices my distress—it is pretty obvious—and a little of the hardness retreats from his eyes. “I know I’m one scary-looking motherfucker, but that’s why I’m on your detail ma’am. Have to be a damn big fool to come up against me.” He tries the whole smiling thing again, and this time it’s not quite so scary. In fact, since his smile is a bit wider, more genuine, there is a hint of a dimple on his left cheek and a slight twinkle in his dark eyes. “You are safe with me, little bit,” he promises.

Matthew is silent through this exchange, which is strange since at every sign of my discomfort, he’s come to my rescue. I glance up at him from the corner of my eye and notice he is looking down on me, my discomfort hasn’t escaped his notice he’s just allowing me the chance to handle things. I am not as subtle in my glance as I think and can see the smirk on his lips when he sees me looking at him.

I look back towards Slade, well, mostly at his knees. Baby steps. “O-okay,” I stutter. “Thanks.” My voice cracks and I can’t hide the hint of fear in it, but at least I answered.

Daniels walks past us and claps Slade on the shoulder then heads to a bank of elevators entering a code in the keypad next to the smallest of the three elevators. Matthew starts to move forward, stopping in his tracks when I don’t move from the spot I’m rooted to. Still holding onto his arm with a death grip. He turns to face me head-on and pulls my fingers from his arm one at a time then links his fingers through mine.

“Love,” he admonishes. “I think by now you know that I am not going to let anything happen to you. You are perfectly safe here with me and in my home. My men will never let anything happen to you either. While both Slade and Daniels look like bad motherfuckers, I am the baddest motherfucker around so they will not disappoint me. Got it?”

Feeling a bit annoyed at myself for being such a shrinking violet, I straighten my spine and nod in acceptance. I’m not sure why, but I trust Matthew. Maybe because he saved me from Damon, or because after he saved me, he spent days by my bedside taking care of me. No matter the reason, I trust him more than I can ever remember trusting anyone… except…

No, I won’t think of him. Not now. Not ever.

I shove that thought down. Marcia Grant—my once foster mother and tormentor—told me he was a figment of my imagination. The stupid dream of a child. In my life, there isn’t any room for childish thoughts, and certainly no room for dreams. Unless you consider nightmares as dreams. There are plenty of those. The dreams didn’t stop coming, though. Dreams of the blue-eyed boy who promised to take me away. To save me from the Grants. Night after night, he promised me the world in my dreams. Of course, I would always wake up, and there was no rescue on the horizon.

I look up at Matthew’s dark-blue eyes and wonder if my subconscious has connected the dream-boy who made such pretty promises with this man in front of me. Did my brain trick me into trusting him because of my dreams? Do I care if that’s why I’m so comfortable with Matthew?

No, I decide, I don’t care the why of how I feel when he’s around. I’ve never felt more cared for, more protected, more like a human being that’s worthy of kindness in my entire life. I’m going to latch onto the way he makes me feel and not let go.

“Use your words.”

My eyes widen at Matthew’s tone. It’s a little harder. More demanding. This is the dominant peeking out. It’s not the first time he’s gotten that firmness to his voice with me, but it is the first time it feels like there is true weight to the implied threat.

Part of me wonders what he’ll do if I refuse to answer him. Will he threaten me? Is this where I find out that he’s not at all what he seems? Because I’m an idiot, I don’t respond. Instead, I stand stock-still, chewing my cheek until the sharp metallic taste of blood coats my tongue.

“Perhaps it is time we had a quick chat about expectations. If I ask you a direct question, I expect a verbal response. Communication is important in a—” Matthew hesitates and seems to change his mind about whatever it is that he was going to say. “—Communication is important. Understand?”

He’s so stern and has an air of confidence that it makes me instantly want to give him what he wants, but I’ve chosen my path. Now that the idea to test him is in my head, I can’t seem to ignore it. Some sick part of me needs to know how far I can push him before he raises his hand in anger. Where is the line to cross? There is always a line. If I find it now, I can avoid it later.

I swallow thickly, then nod my head again, averting my eyes so I can’t see the man whose been so good to me change into just another monster. I don’t have to wait long. Before I can even so much as blink, Matthew has my hair wrapped tightly around his hand. He uses his grip to tilt my head back, giving me nowhere else to look besides directly at him.

I wait for the pain of a slap or maybe a vicious tug to my hair that’ll bring me to my knees in front of him, but that doesn’t happen. I fight my instinct to close my eyes as he slowly leans in close. So close his face is barely a hairsbreadth away from mine. I can almost taste the sweet peppermint on his breath.

“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart,” he says in a throaty voice, his lips lightly brushing against mine as he speaks because he’s so close.

He warns me about playing with fire, but with the way he’s holding me and how close he is, I swear, I’m already burning. My insides feel like they are on fire. A warmth bubbles up from deep inside me, and it takes me long seconds to realize what I’m feeling is attraction. The thought is like a shock to my system. I’ve never been in a position to explore the natural attraction between a woman and a man, and now that I am, it’s overwhelming.

The spark of fear has calmed to anticipation. Matthew’s grip on my hair no longer feels like a threat but a promise. I’m going to claim temporary insanity for what I do next because that’s literally the only possible reason for it. Without thinking, I close the minuscule distance between our lips and tentatively press my lips to his. The whole time my brain is screaming at me to stop being an idiot. That he’s going to think I’m offering my body as payment for all the things he’s done for me.

He lingers with his lips against mine, then with a groan pulls away. There is a pained look on his face that I can’t decipher. It definitely doesn’t say, “kiss me, Rose!” In fact, it says the exact opposite. Matthew looks horrified.

Embarrassment floods my cheeks and suffices every single cell in my body. I quickly step away from him. His fingers slip through the strands of my hair with no resistance. With another growl, Matthew grabs ahold of my hand and pulls me against his chest. Gently hugging me to his big body.

“Don’t think I’m ending this because I don’t want you. I am merely taking care to remember that you are injured and in no condition to finish what we start.” He speaks quietly, yet fiercely.

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