I chain the door behind them. Not that it’ll stop them if they decide to break in. I’m installing a new security system in this place.
I run back upstairs three steps at a time.
The moment I open the door, a gun is pointed at me. A sheet drapes around Zoe’s torso and drags behind her on the ground.
I’m surprised that her hold is steady on the weapon. The woman sure knows how to hold a gun.
As soon as she sees me. She lowers the gun, makes sure to click on the safe, and places it on the nightstand.
Fuck me.
That feeling of pride from earlier returns with force.
I don’t get a warning before she throws herself in my arms. She smells of citrus and flowers, but underneath, there’s also my scent. I wrap my arms around her and mould her body into mine. It’s crazy how obsessed I am and how much I can’t get enough of touching her and being around her and inside her.
She’s still fighting this pull between us, but with time, she’ll know how serious I am and how I’ll bring hell to this earth in order to protect her. With time, she’ll soften and accept me. At least, I hope she does.
There’s no way I’m letting her go. She’s been mine since she dared kiss me that first time. No one kisses me. I don’t even like fucking kissing. But with this woman?
I hold her face and claim her lips. I can’t get enough of this taste and how her bottom lip twitches against mine before she gives me access.
Whenever she caves into me like this, I can’t help feeling like the most triumphant man alive. Maybe someday, she’ll offer me her heart along with her body.
She’s breaking me and moulding me together again. I never thought I needed light until I caught a glimpse of hers.
When I pull away, there’s that familiar doubt written all over her face. Soon enough, she’ll trust me. Soon enough, she’ll open the gates for me.
“Who were they?” she asks. “I heard you talking to them.”
“Acquaintances.”
“Did you… kill them?”
“No, but I would’ve if they posed a danger.”
“Right.” She clutches the sheet to her chest and trudges to the bed without meeting my gaze.
She’s building those bricks between us all over again. I try to be cool about it since I just decided to give her time, but I can’t help the twinge of pain.
I rake a hand through my hair. “What is it now? Do you want me to apologise for killing people who deserve to be dead? I won’t. And if I get to repeat the other time, I would kill the cockroach all over again because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting in front of me right now.”
I expected her to argue and retaliate as usual, but she remains silent for so long as if she didn’t hear a word I said. Even her sitting position on the bed is frozen like a statue. Finally, she asks in a quiet tone. “Do you enjoy it?”
“Enjoy what?”
“Killing.”
I lift a shoulder and go with the truth. I’d do anything except lie to her. “People have to die and I’m one of those who are efficient at killing. I don’t derive pleasure from it, but I don’t hate it either. If someone deserves to die, I will kill them.”
A bitter smile tugs on her lips. “You’re so much like him.”
I rub the back of my neck until a few strands almost rip from my scalp. I’m ready for anything except for talking about another man. Just the thought of someone else having her makes my mood black. “Who the fuck is him?”
“My dad.” She fiddles with the sheet, not meeting my gaze. “He was a captain in the British army and a war hero. At least that’s what the medals from the queen said. Apparently, he saved his soldiers in a superhero fashion. Just because he received those medals, he truly believed that he was a hero even though he killed countless people.”
I crouch in front of her and refrain from touching her no matter how much I want to. It’s clear that it’s taking her lots of courage to say this, so I won’t get in her way.
“If it’s of any comfort.” I grin “I never considered myself a hero and I sure as shit never received a medal from the queen.”
She smiles, but tears form in her eyes. The breaking in her