Page 14 of Dangerous Proposal

When I open my eyes, everything is a blur. My head throbs, and the cold, hard ground beneath me is a sharp reminder of where I am. I try to shift, but I realize my hands are tied behind my back. The reality of my situation hits me like a ton of bricks, and I can’t help but freeze. There are men’s voices around me, but I don’t move. I don’t make a sound. It’s best they think I’m still unconscious, at least for a little while. I need to figure out what’s going on, where I am, and how the hell I’m going to get out of here.

I refuse to be a victim. They’ve grabbed me, but that doesn’t mean I’m powerless. I’ll find a way out, even if I have to do it with my last breath. I’m not going to be some helpless girl they can toss around.

“Are you sure this was the right move?” one of the men asks. I hear the unease in his voice. Good. That’s what I want. I want them nervous, unsure of themselves.

“You know Red’s ruthless,” the second man replies. His voice is gruff, but I hear a tremor of doubt. “I doubt he’s going to go easy on us for this.”

A sigh, heavy with exasperation. “We’ll be fine. It’s an order from the top. We’re doing this for a reason.”

“I don’t know, man,” the second voice answers. “I just have a bad feeling about this.”

I strain to hear, knowing this could be important. Maybe they’re worried about Red’s retaliation. Maybe there’s something I can use to my advantage.

“We’ll be fine,” the first man says confidently. But then I hear the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked, and my heart races. “When have we come across a situation we haven’t been able to handle?”

“Yeah, until we’re not,” the second man mutters darkly.

Their laughter sends a shudder down my spine, but I keep still, trying to gather every bit of information I can. I can’t let fear take over, not now.

Then, without warning, the sound of a door slamming open cracks through the tense air. I jump at the noise, my heart leaping into my throat. I can’t see yet, but when my eyes focus, I almost can’t believe what I’m seeing.

Red. Red is here.

The relief that floods me is overwhelming. I thought I’d be terrified to see him again after everything, especially after I ran away, but now, all I can feel is gratitude. He came for me. He found me.

“You fucking bastards,” Red spits, his voice full of fury.

I hear the unmistakable sound of gunshots, rapid and precise, and my stomach drops. Cries of pain ring out, followed by more shots, each one making my heart race faster. My body stiffens, fear washing over me. What if one of those bullets hits me?

The gunfire continues, and I can feel my chest tightening with panic. Then, without warning, I feel a hand on my shoulder. A scream bubbles up from deep inside me, the contact sending a sharp jolt of fear through my veins. But the pressure on my shoulder stays. It doesn’t feel threatening. Instead, it’s reassuring, grounding me.

I don’t know if it’s the shock or the comfort of the touch, but I feel myself exhale, a little bit of the terror draining out of me. Red is here. I’m going to be okay.

When I open my eyes, Red’s face fills my vision. Despite the gunfire, despite the fact that I’m still tied up, I feel a wash of calm. Everything’s going to be okay. Red’s here, and he’s going to take me home.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he says, pulling me against his chest.

His hands go over my ears, blocking out the gunfire. I hide my face against his solid, muscular chest. When the shots stop, Red barks something out. I can’t make it out through my makeshift earmuffs, but I don’t care.

Finally, a few minutes later, he drops his hands and reaches behind me, breaking my bonds. As soon as my hands are free, I wrap my arms around him, holding on as tight as I can. He returns the embrace, rubbing my back in a soothing manner.

Tears of relief spring to my eyes. I can’t help it. I haven’t cried yet—not once after a day that feels like it won’t end. I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotion. The highs I’ve experienced are unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and the lows were lower than I’ve ever been. Through it all, Red’s been here, either taking me to brand new heights or pulling me out of the deep valleys I’ve found myself in.

I pull away from Red, my eyes locking with his. There’s a fire in them I’ve never seen before. It’s as if the intensity of the fight has ignited something in him, and I feel it all—raw, unfiltered, and powerful. Without thinking, my body moves toward him.

Red meets me halfway, and our mouths crash together in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. There’s no hesitation, no buildup—just the urgent release of everything we’ve both been holding back. It’s overwhelming, like every ounce of tension and desire between us bursts free all at once. I need more. I need all of him.

We kiss for what feels like forever, his hands gripping me, his lips insistent and wild. When he finally pulls away, a thin string of saliva connects us, glistening in the dim, flickering light of the warehouse. But it’s the look on his face that makes my heart skip. It’s a look that makes everything inside me tighten. Something changes in his eyes, and I can feel it in my chest—this is more than just the heat of the moment. He’s about to say something, something that will change everything.

“I love you, Evie,” he says, his voice thick with conviction. It’s as though every word he’s ever spoken before this moment fades away, lost in the weight of those three words.

If that’s the most important thing he’s ever said to me, then what I’m about to say next feels just as monumental.

“I love you too, Red,” I reply, my heart pounding as I look into his eyes, desperate for him to feel the depth of my words. “More than anything in this world. You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel this way.”

A low growl rumbles in his chest. “My girl,” he mutters, and then his lips find mine again, claiming me in a kiss that leaves me breathless. “Mine.”

“I’m sorry I left,” I say, my voice faltering as the weight of my regret hits me all at once. I can’t stand the thought of him believing I’ll make the same mistake again. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t—”

---