She met my eyes. “My ears are still ringing,” she said.
I nodded and sighed. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Will it go away?”
“Probably,” I said. “But it might not.”
“Is my hearing damaged forever now?”
I just shrugged. “We should talk.”
“What about?” She frowned at me. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel fine.” I stared at her for a long moment. “Aida, you know what happened back there, right?”
“Some men tried to kill you.”
“Yes, they did,” I said, my voice soft. “They tried to kill you, too.”
“But they didn’t. You… you saved me.” She frowned and cocked her head. “You killed two of them.”
“I did,” I agreed.
“Left them in the street.”
“Couldn’t do anything for them.”
“Would you have?”
“No,” I said. “I would’ve left them to rot.”
“I thought so.” Her voiced sounded far away and she didn’t move a muscle. It was like she was a robot.
I leaned forward again and forced myself to my feet. I clenched my jaw as a fresh wave of pain hit me. She frowned and stared at me, her head tilted, concern in her expression. I moved over toward her and leaned forward, one hand supporting my weight on the arm of the chair, looming above her pretty face.
She didn’t move. I took her chin with my other hand and tilted her face up toward me. I stared into her eyes then licked my fingers. I used them to wipe the blood off her skin. It came off in small dabs and streaks. I wiped my fingers on my pants, licked them again, and tasted the copper and iron of my blood. I wiped her face until it was clean again. She stared into my eyes the whole time and didn’t move a muscle.
My heart was racing. Fuck, being close to her drove me wild. I didn’t know what that feeling was, where it came from, but it suffused my body with a deep longing glow. I killed her father, I murdered him in front of her, and yet I wanted to make her my own.
I wanted to take her dead father up on his offer and make her my bride.
I knew it was insane, but in the moment, I needed it.
“Are you mine, Aida?” I whispered.
She bit her lip. “I don’t know.”
“You’re going to be.” I moved closer, my hand sliding back along her cheek then grasping hard in her hair. I pulled it, made her gasp, her eyes widening and her body loosening. Maybe I woke her up, I couldn’t tell, but I leaned closer and pressed my lips to her ear. “You’re going to be mine, little Aida. Your father gave you to me as a gift, said you could be my bride. And I’m taking him up on it.”
She pressed her hands against my chest. For just a moment, I thought she might kiss me.
Instead, she pushed me back.
I released her hair and straightened. I winced again as pain flashed in my stitched side. She stared at me, mouth hanging open, breathing hard. “What the hell are you talking about?” she said.
“You heard me,” I growled. “You think this is a game? You were almost killed because of me. And I won’t let that happen again.” Anger ripped through me as I remembered throwing her down onto the floor of the car and covering her body with my own. My only thought in that moment was I had to save her, I had to keep her safe.
I threw my glass of whiskey against the fireplace. It shattered against the stone and the brown liquid splashed against the back. I limped over to it and stared down at the mess I’d made.
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to marry you,” she said.
I turned and stared as she stood up. Her chest was heaving up and down as she took deep breaths. Her face was animated at least, and she reached back to undo her hair, letting the rest of it fall down around her back.
“I don’t give a damn what you want,” I said. “You’re in this now, girl. And if you want to survive it, you’d better give yourself to me.”
She glared at me for a full five seconds. Silence hung between us. My body ached and I didn’t know why I was pushing her so hard. Maybe it was my anger, or maybe it was just my raging desire for her, my impatience to taste her, have her, control her, make her all mine.
“No,” she said. “You don’t get to… you don’t get to do whatever you want with me.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed and stared at her beautiful face as it twisted in a new mask of rage. I knew that look, I saw it on her the day after her father died by my gun. I liked that look on her, and I wanted to see more of it. I wanted to push her, piss her off, get her so angry that the only way she could bring herself back down was to ride my cock rough and fast.
“I think I do,” I said. “I saved your life. You’d be dead without me.”
“I’d be back home without you,” she spat. “I’m only here because of you.”
“You’re here because of your piece of shit father. I know you don’t get that yet, but I’m protecting you. I’m saving your life. Vlas would’ve hunted you down by now and cut your fucking throat just to make himself feel better. Get it through your head, Aida. Your life is mine and now I want the rest of you.”
I turned to her, body tense, muscles tight. She gaped at me, lips hanging open. I could see her pretty tongue and I wanted it in my mouth, or maybe rolling around the tip of my cock.
“Go to hell,” she said and turned away.
She took a step toward the kitchen but I moved fast. I walked up to her and grabbed her arm. I didn’t care that it hurt, that it tugged at the stitches. I grabbed
