Page 157 of Taming Seraphine

“What’s this?” I ask.

He reverses into a parking space. “Mike Ferrante lives close by. We’ll rest up here and pay him a visit later when his wife starts her shift at the hospital.”

My pulse quickens, and my skin tightens at the memory of a sandy-haired man with a bald spot slapping Mom across the face with a part of his anatomy I plan on removing.

“How do you know their schedule?” I ask.

“Miko.”

He opens the car door and jogs toward the motel office, leaving me staring at his broad back. All thoughts of the fun we had in the woods evaporates, leaving my mind filled with images of those monsters surrounding Mom. At some point in the future, I plan on finding the ones lucky enough to have died before we could hunt them down and desecrate their graves.

Leroi returns a few minutes later and opens the passenger side door, letting in the sound of traffic and a gust of cool air that snaps me out of my thoughts.

As I climb out, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his warmth. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll do something about your bruises.”

He opens the door to the room. It’s cleaner than I would have expected and completely free from the musty odors I always found to linger when I killed targets in hotels and motels. There are two double beds with white sheets, a small kitchenette, and a bathroom.

After pressing a kiss on the top of my head, he darts out through the front door and returns moments later, holding a leather bag. “Let’s soak in the whirlpool and then I’ll see to the welts on your ass.”

I step back, my heart swelling. The last time we had sex, he gave me a bath and wrapped me in towels like I was precious. Now he wants to tend to my wounds.

No one could be this perfect. Can they?

SIXTY-ONE

LEROI

Seraphine is as docile as a kitten as I lower her to the motel’s sunken tub and work shampoo through her hair. The coffee dye is fading fast, turning her back into the blonde angel I rescued from the Capello mansion.

Warmth fills my chest as I lose myself in her delicate features. She’s no longer the innocent girl I thought she was, but a woman whose darkness surpasses mine.

After getting her clean, I lay her face-down on the bed. Both her perfect little ass cheeks have darkened from the spanking and I apply a thick covering of cooling gel to her heated flesh. When I’m done, she rolls over and wraps her arms around my neck, her eyes shining with light.

It’s a combination of gratitude, admiration, and affection that’s more than a man like me deserves. If it hadn’t been for Capello’s twisted attempt to turn her into a killing machine, a mafia princess like Seraphine would never have crossed my path.

She would have graduated from an ivy league college or married into an influential family, living out her life in luxury and comfort. But here she is, in a motel with me.

I place a kiss on her lips, feeling something inside me shift. Seraphine has become my purpose, and I’d do anything to keep her safe.

“What did you want to do with your life?” I ask.

She shifts on my lap, her hand trailing down my chest. “I used to dream of killing the twins in front of Dad before stabbing him with hot pokers. Why?”

“Before that,” I ask.

Her head tilts to the side, and her eyes glaze with a faraway expression, as though she’s lost in a memory. “I wanted to study at the Cordon Bleu cooking academy.”

“Is that why you learned your knife skills?” I ask.

She rests her head on my shoulder. “I used to help Bianca in the kitchen.”

“Your cook?”

“She was married to our driver, Felix. He used to give me driving lessons and was the one who took me to my grandma’s house that night...”

She bows her head, too overcome with her memories. I stroke her hair, wishing there was something more I could do to ease her pain. Keeping her safe isn’t enough when she’s still plagued by the monsters from her past.

Wrapping her legs around my waist, I rise off the bed, pull back the covers, and ease her onto the mattress.

---