Page 73 of Claimed By the Villain
“Not now. Come here.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t get up delicately like in some damn romance movie, she buries her face in my chest, crying. She jumps into my arms, expecting me to hold her. Wrapping her thighs around my waist, she takes my face in her hands and kisses me with the fury that only fear can bring.
It’s not a sexual kiss, but it’s primal. Born from the possibility of loss.
Lips mingled with teeth, a bite that makes sure I’m really here with her.
Jackie leaves my mouth to kiss my face, eyes, forehead, cheek, jaw.
“I didn’t cry,” she says.
“But you wanted to.”
“Yes, but I remembered what Martin used to say: Alston women are tough.”
“He talked a lot of shit. When I was a kid, I had this thing about never feeling anger because your brother said anger was weakness. It’s weakness if you don’t channel it right. But if you know where to put it, it’s liberating.”
Jackie presses her forehead to mine.
“Either way, I don’t feel like crying anymore. You’re here.”
“Carlile shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“It wasn’t his fault. I told him to wait outside.”
“He doesn’t take orders from you, only from me. And the only order I gave him was not to take his eyes off you. Because of your disobedience, you could be dead right now.”
“I don’t think she wanted to kill me. I think maybe… um… she wanted totakeme.”
I walk to the bed with my woman still in my arms, kicking off my shoes on the way.
“Was she alone?” I ask as I sit down, leaning back against the headboard.
“Yes. One woman. I was finishing a call with Taylor when she came in. I got a little irritated because it was already closing time. But then I looked at her, and my gut told me something was off.”
“Why?”
“She was very well dressed. Designer clothes and bag. Expensive shoes. Completely out of place.”
“And then what happened?”
“She told me I should stop going after the father of her child.”
“What?”
“She said you were the father of her child, and I was destroying your family.”
Chapter 39
“What?”
“The woman came in all aggressive, saying I was interfering with her family. Then she reached into her bag. I backed up. Thought it was a gun.”
“And what would you have done if it was?”
“Fought to the death. I was raised by a criminal, Lucifer. My father taught us to die fighting, but never, under any circumstances, to let ourselves be taken.”
“Good advice.”
