Page 29 of Witness Protection

Chapter Seven

How could a woman he barely knew manage to fuck with his head? His cock felt heavy in his jeans as he bolted from the bed. Cayden flew solo and wasn’t the type to get seduced by any woman. One-night stands were as far as he committed, and even then, he rarely knew their names.

His captive was a mix of wildcat and scared kitten, one minute trying to attack him, the next seeking him for comfort. He was supposed to kill her or use her as a pawn, not dry her fucking tears.

Before he could think straight, his cell went off.

“I have a job for you.”

Cayden wasn’t exactly in a position to take on new hits, not with Ms. Fancy Pants in tow. “I’m laying low for a bit.” He reached in his jacket pocket for his smokes and lit up.

“Oh right, Vasily’s kid, eh?”

“How’d you know about that?”

Ricky was the underworld equivalent to a temp agency. He was one of the middle-men who hooked up people wanting someone dead with the people who specialized in getting it done. “Word gets around.”

“Then you know why I’m unavailable.”

“No, Cayden, you gotta do me this one. It’s fucking easy money, I swear. It’ll take you, like, two hours max,” Ricky said. “I’m in a hard place.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine.”

“Where you at, buddy?”

“Remember the old factory?”

“Be there shortly.”

Cayden tossed his cell on the desk. He didn’t need this right now, but if he pissed off Ricky, he’d never see a good assignment from him again. The sleazeball liked to hold a grudge.

He’d just taken a deep drag when something hit him in the head, making his vision swim. Sounds became muffled. His ears rang. He pulled himself together, gripping the edges of his desk, and whipped his head to the side. Sophia stood there with the base of his marble table lamp in her hands.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He stood up, forcing her to walk backwards.

“I’m sorry,” she said, still holding the lamp as if ready to hit a home run.

“Give it to me right now, goddammit.”

She shook her head.

He snatched it from her hands before she knew what was happening.

Anger washed over him—hot, red, and blinding. It tainted his blood, made his heart race to a toxic beat. All the pain and hate and regret bubbled to the surface as it often did. His dark side wanted out, the one trying to escape since Frank’s murder.

Cayden tossed the lamp on the sofa, continuing to stare her down and back her up. He wanted to strangle the fucking life out of her, but something inside him resisted. Not because of the money or the complications with the Barettis and Morenovs. No, it was something else.

Something foreign and intrusive.

She looked up at him with those big, brown, deceptively innocent eyes. How many times had his victims pissed themselves and begged for their lives? Sophia put on her diamond plating, but he saw right through it. She was a lost little girl, and just about every person he knew would eat her up and spit her out, no matter how tough she thought she was.

Part of him wanted to protect her from the world.

Protect her from himself.

“I thought you heard me coming. I didn’t think I’d actually get a shot in,” she said. Her chest heaved as she hit the wall behind her.

“Well, you did,” he said, his voice controlled. “Now I can’t trust you to have free rein around here.”

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