Page 9 of The Fallen
She looks at the man, mouth opening and closing, and then looks back up at me. “Locke?”
I walk forward a step, my fingers reaching for her. “Time to go home, Neve.”
She scuttles sideways before I get to her and tries running for it again, but there’s not a chance I’m letting her go now. I grab her wrist harshly, swinging her back to my side, and start walking back the way we came. It’s a fucking maze, in all honesty, and I could do with some directions, but I’m happy enough to walk all night if I have to. I’ve found my job, got hold of her, and I’ll be taking her the fuck back home on a flight tomorrow.
“Get off me,” she hisses sharply, her accent the same as any Broderick. I don’t. I keep walking, tugging her down a set of steps when I reach them, and then the next set around another corner. “I didn’t do anything.” It sure as fuck looked like she did back at Tallington. Not my problem either way. “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to your apartment for tonight.”
She struggles, making me turn back and haul her down another run of steps. “I’ll scream.”
“Go ahead.” No one’s here anyway, certainly not in this part of town that she’s run to in the dead of night. Stupid move. “Although, I’m not sure I can take on more than one rapist tonight. I’m a bit fucking tired after all that running.”
She huffs and carries on struggling in my grip as if she’s got some hope of dislodging me. She hasn’t. I’m done chasing this one. We’re going back to hers, where I’m going to shower this fucking sweat off me, and then we’re leaving for the airport first thing in the morning.
“I can’t believe he sent you after me.”
I shrug and keep tugging, finally beginning to see the colours of the market below rather than whitewashed walls. I choose a side alley and duck us through it, pulling her closer so it’ll look like we’re a couple. My arm goes around her waist, the other clasped tight to her wrist to guide her along.
“Typical of Landon to have a piece of meat as an errand boy,” she snips, still trying to pull away.
That might piss me off, but as her first offence, I keep my cool in check and wade through the market’s noise and smells again. What was left of that cool, though, rips away at the same time as she manages to pull out of my hold. Nine strides is all it takes for me to snatch at her again and wrench her back so harshly she squeals.
Her back goes to a wall, air puffing out of her into my face. I stare, making sure she understands how this is going to go if she doesn’t start complying with the plan.
“Be careful. Patience isn’t a virtue I own, princess.” Her eyes dilate like saucers, body trembling in my hold. “And this fucking heat is truly pissing me right off. Don't add to it.”
She tries for words, then looks at my chest rather than carry on. Gives me a chance to get a good look at her, which is a fine sight in all honesty. She’s the prettiest of the three sisters by far. Darker in tone. More shapely. I can feel her waist trembling in my hands, feel the swell of a woman’s hips under my fingers.
“But I’m not ready,” she says.
Guess not, but again, not my problem.
I turn and move before the threat of interest in fucking her overtakes my job, this time with a death grip holding her firm. The eventual sight of the market dissipating to nothing but a few small stalls and buildings gives me some much-needed space, and I loosen my grip on her to create some room between us. As Landon said, she’s not for touching, and I’ve already done enough of that to make me question what I’m doing here. Fucking soft spots. I’ve got too many when it comes to a pretty woman. Don’t know why. Nanna, I think. She was a good woman. Hardworking. Honest. Meal on the table for Gramps every day of the week, breakfast served for seven am each morning.
“Noah?” My gaze stays fixed to the complex we’re heading for, no interest in hearing my name come out of her mouth. “It is Noah, isn’t it?” I keep moving, tugging her regardless of her not needing to be forced anymore. “Can we wait a while? Before I have to go back, I mean?” No. I shouldn’t need to say that either. I work for her brother. She should know what that means. No deviation on a plan. No niceties involved in anything. “It’s just, I need to get some things in order, and I’m not ready yet.”
I pull her through the gardens into the courtyard, gaze casting over the area to make sure no one’s going to cause any problems for me. “Noah, wait, please. We could spend a few days and-”
I swing back to look at her standing by the small pool. “Stop. You murdered your father. You're guilty. Fucking consequences, you know? Zero chance you’re batting your eyelashes and making this any different. Give up trying.” She frowns and looks at the water, then shrugs the headscarf from her head until all her messy hair cascades out. If the eyes were appealing, the hair makes her seem like a devil in disguise. I look at it, watching it glint under the low lights around the complex, then look back at the eyes again. “You’re going home, Neve. Get used to the thought.”
Chapter Six
NEVE
I’m not going home. I just need to figure out a plan.
Noah pushes me towards the steps, and my feet take slow progress climbing.
“Neve, move yourself.”
“Fine.” I head to my door and unlock it, huffing as he pushes me inside, picks up a backpack and shuts it behind him. I wait for him to move, but he stays still, as if assessing me like he’s just caught an item of prey.
The adrenaline and fear from the man back in the alley, the running – again – and now this, rumbles through my veins, making me feel sick and lightheaded at what may await me back home.
My breathing quickens as I stare at Noah. It’s like my body is frozen, and I can’t move. Not only is he imposing, but he's arresting in a way I can't put my finger on. Low scowl entrenched in his features, near black piercing eyes that seem too focused on me.
“Lock.”
