Page 118 of Captive Audience
Maybe it was time to embrace my villain era.
Or maybe I just needed to embrace my villain.
We stared at each other for a beat before Rook said, “Get your arse over here.”
I didn’t hesitate. I ran to him and wrapped my arms tight around his torso. He caught me with equal force, one hand gripping the back of my head, the other pressing flat against my spine as if he needed me close to breathe.
He pulled back just enough to search my face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Better now.”
Why did that make my chest ache?
I glanced down. “You have blood on you.”
“Not mine.” His hand smoothed over my back. “He can never hurt you again.”
Something inside me broke at those words. A knot in my chest that had been wound tight for years finally unraveled.
Greg Holbrook was gone.
I would never have to see his smirk, feel his hands on my skin, or hear his voice again. And no other woman would, either.
“Thank you,” I whispered, throat thick with emotion.
“It was my pleasure to make that useless shite bleed. He cried and begged for mercy. I showed him none. Your name on my lips was the last thing he heard before he fell twenty-three floors.”
“That’s fucked-up.”
“Aye. It is.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I’ll be your monster, Asha. I’ll do all the terrible things to bring you peace. You don’t have to fight your battles alone anymore.”
Most people talked a big game about what they’d do for the people they cared about. How far they’d go, what lines they’d cross.
Rook didn’t just talk. He acted.
And what he’d done for me? You could go a lifetime and never meet someone who’d make that kind of sacrifice.
My protector. My criminal.
My dark knight in a bloodstained suit.
He cupped my face in his hands, eyes burning intensely. “Finn. Go home,” he called out without taking his gaze from me.
“Aye, Boss.” My bodyguard wasted no time in reaching the waiting elevator.
And then we were alone.
Rook brushed my hair behind my ear. “I missed you.”
I licked my dry lips. “I was worried about you.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “I’m both insulted and pleased to hear you say that. But don’t ever worry about me, love. The truth is, you’re the only one who can hurt me.” He took my hand and placed my palm over his pounding heart.
He didn’t need to explain why he’d put it there.
I studied him. The struggle in his composure. The tenderness buried beneath all that armor.
