Chapter Five
She should be completely freaked out. A stranger had mingled their blood together, which would normally terrify her because of all the contagious diseases out there. She’d even prepared news reports on tainted blood, and some of the outcomes were horrifying.
But instead of being scared, or even upset, she felt uniquely special. All her life, she’d wanted to belong to someone, to feel loved and wanted. As crazy as it seemed, Bain had offered her a piece of himself and an odd promise—to not kill her. She’d take it for now, but deep down, she hoped for a lot more. The rules of right and wrong had gone out the window once the bullets started flying at Semenov’s. Her world had tilted off its axis ever since Bain had been thrust into her life. There was no going back.
“You know what, I don’t want to see you like this. No more tears. Come on,” Bain said.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes as he led her to the front door, unsure of what to expect. She watched as he entered the code: 24926 for the exit alarm system.
“Where you taking me?” She followed him to that same black BMW in the garage. A little piece of her was terrified he’d set her free, return her to her previous reality. Maybe a big piece. This hulk of a man was broken on the inside and breathtaking on the outside. The fact he thought she was beautiful already put him high above her previous boyfriends. And he hadn’t hurt her. Bain was a murderer, savage and ruthless, yet he’d barely put his hands on her. She kept expecting for it to come—a slap, a punch, an ugly insult. Now she was actually starting to trust him, and ever since last night and the kiss to end all kisses, she wanted him in unspeakable ways.
“You need something proper to wear, and we need food.” He opened the passenger door for her. “So we’re taking a quick drive into the town.”
She frowned. “No trunk?” It had been the only way she’d traveled with Bain, cramped in the tight, dark space. It seemed foreign to be offered a normal seat in the car.
“Don’t tempt me.”
The leather seats were soft and warm against her thighs. She put on her seatbelt and watched as Bain started up the vehicle, the blue dashboard lights flicking on. He cleaned up nicely. He still had on the full suit he’d worn to kill that pedophile, his biceps bulging as he reached for the steering wheel. She wasn’t sure who was worse, Bain for murdering that man or her for being glad it happened. Scarlett realized she would have failed miserably as a field reporter. There was no way she could remain impartial when one person was being victimized. Her skills were in research and intel. She almost envied Bain’s lifestyle. He was judge and jury with no fear holding him back from bringing justice to the bad guys. Then again, maybe he’d kill any person if he was paid enough.
“You said you won’t kill me,” she stated.
“Yeah.”
“But you can’t let me go?”
The hum of the engine grew louder as he gave the car more gas, the scenery whipping by in her peripheral vision. She held onto the edges of her seat as her heart began to race. Her life had never been a thrill ride like this.
“It’s for your own good. Without me, you wouldn’t last a day,” he said.
“What do you mean? Who would want to kill me? All of Semenov’s men are dead, and you destroyed all the security footage.”
“My boss doesn’t like loose ends. You’re a loose end.”
She kept quiet. Bain wanted to protect her, and it turned her on to be so important to another human being—to a beast like Bain. Even her own parents discarded her as if she had no worth.
He parked the car on a busy street. It was almost dinner hour, and she was getting hungry.
“I can’t go anywhere in public like this.” She was still wearing Bain’s oversized shirt and boxers. Not a good look for the Junction area of the city.
He squeezed the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. “It would have been better if I’d put you in the trunk, or drugged you.”
“Really? I won’t leave the car. Like you said, it’s dangerous for me anyway, right?”
“Every chance you’ve gotten, you’ve tried to get away. I can’t trust you,” he said.
She pointed to the shop right beside them. “Just get me anything decent to wear—extra large. I like blue and purple, if it matters. You’ll be able to see me through the store windows.”
He took a deep breath, scanning the crowds as they walked by and darted across the road. “I’m putting the car alarm on, so don’t touch the door handle. If you try to get away, I’ll be back in less than one fucking minute. I won’t be happy if I have to chase you down.”
“Relax. I just want food and clothes.”
He adjusted a shoulder-holstered gun under the front flap of his suit jacket, and then stepped out of the car. The alarm system beeped three times as it activated. Scarlett watched Bain. He towered over the crowds, and his presence was so menacing that they parted for him as he moved. Just before he entered the little specialty shop, he turned and stared directly at her. God, he did wild things to her body. His musky cologne still lingered in the car, invading all her senses. Why did he have to have so much self-control?
Scarlett was alone. She could run into the crowd, honk the horn, or attract attention. She would have loved this opportunity yesterday. Today, not so much. Her past had been rough, filled with heartache and abuse. There was one secret Bain didn’t know. This secret had a life of its own, haunting her, pulling her into a ravenous pit of depression whenever she didn’t resist. It was easier said than done to let go of the past and move on. She understood Bain more than he knew. He had his demons, but so did she.
Bain returned in record time, rescuing her from her darkening thoughts. She would have barely started combing through the racks, but he entered the car with two bags, thrusting them onto her lap. “Get dressed.”
“Here?”
“The windows are heavily tinted. Just make it quick.”
She started sifting through the contents of the bags and found a pair of black capri pants and a purple shirt with three-quarter sleeves. She smiled to herself. Scarlett started wiggling into the capris, lifting her hips to get them on in the cramped passenger seat. Bain had already seen her naked, but there were so many people passing by.
“What next?” she asked, trying to discreetly switch shirts.
“We’ll get some food. I think a change of scenery will do you good, no?”
“You’re actually taking me out in public? All this change because of the blood thing?”
“I’m trying to be nice. It’s not something I usually do. You want me to stop?”
She shook her head and began twisting her hair up into a bun. Bain reached across the center console and stilled her hand. “Leave it out,” he said. “I like it loose.”
Her chest felt like it was clenching down around her heart. Was she actually falling for a hitman?
They got out of the car, and she felt awkward walking next to Bain. He was so much taller than she was, a presence unto himself. Not to mention he was completely out of her league. She could already see the way women looked at him, a desperate longing in their eyes. When he didn’t respond to their blatant flirting, it pleased her deep down inside.
If you were smart, Scarlett, you’d run the other way. Her first serious relationship with Jerry ended because he’d been a serial cheater. He’d torn her confidence to shreds, and made her more needy and clingy than she’d been to start out with. Then came Michael, a few years later. She could never have prepared herself for the physical and mental abuse. It crept in slowly until it became so extreme, so all-encompassing, that dysfunction became her whole world. She felt like nothing, and never believed she deserved better. It was a vicious cycle of abuse, and she’d been caught in it for much too long. Scarlett would probably still have been trapped in that dark world if the unthinkable hadn’t happened—but it had.
And it changed her forever.
Now there was Bain. He was just another mistake, a man she should stay far, far away from. She needed to put an end to her fucked up relationships and find a good man, one with a normal job, normal life, normal hopes and dreams, and a normal body. Normal was good, right? Then why couldn’t she stop envisioning herself naked in Bain’s bed? Why was he taking control of all her thoughts?
He pointed to an outdoor patio on the sidewalk up ahead. “You want to stop there?” he asked.
“Sure.”
When his hand settled possessively at the small of her back, she held her breath. Tingles and warmth broke out where he touched her and traveled down between her legs. She expected him to be embarrassed of her. Most men were. Scarlett was happy with who she was, but she wasn’t disillusioned about the superficial and highly critical world she lived in. Working with the media put things into everything into perspective—hot guys didn’t settle for big girls.
****
Bain hated crowds. He rarely came into the city on his own accord. Walking through the throngs of law-abiding citizens made him feel like a monster. It was the beauty by his side that anchored him. He focused his energy on keeping her safe, ensuring no asshole got into her personal space.
They sat down at a small table at some hippy café. He wanted to impress Scarlett, to be what she needed, even though he knew it would never be enough.
“What if someone sees me?” she asked. Boss had given him the inside scoop about Scarlett, but her friend hadn’t reported her missing yet. He still wasn’t sure what the fuck he was going to do about the whole situation. This was the first time he had a conscience, or any issue finishing a job. It would be so simple if he could end her, wrap his hands around her throat until her life slipped from her body—but he couldn’t do it. Fuck, but he wanted to keep her.
“I’m not worried.”
A twenty-something waitress passed them menus. She lingered, and it was blatantly obvious she was trying to get his personal attention. He ignored her until she left. The only thing he knew about women was how to thoroughly pleasure them, and since he’d been forced to do that for so many fucking years, he wanted no part of it. And it pissed him off that she assumed he’d cheat on his date. Just because he was rough around the edges and covered in ink didn’t automatically make him a lowlife prick.
“You know what you’re getting?” he asked.
She’d kept her head down, her shoulders lowered. Bain knew she wasn’t shy, she’d said so herself. He couldn’t understand how a woman with so much going for her could lack confidence. Maybe her asshole ex had fucked with her head.
“I think so,” she said, folding the menu back on the table.
“You never shut up when we’re at my place. What’s going on with you?”
She glared at him. “Nothing.”
He growled. This was just one of a million reasons he was single. Women infuriated him with their mixed signals. “Was it our waitress?”
When she didn’t respond, he knew he was on the right track. “She’s a stupid bitch if she thinks I’d choose her over my prize.”
Scarlett looked up at him, eye to eye contact without saying a word.
“That’s right, babe. I’m talking about you.” He reached low and tugged her chair closer, the legs scraping loudly against the concrete patio. “And you’re right about the color. The purple looks beautiful on you.” He ran the back of one finger along the edge of her jaw. That same desperate urge to kiss her took over, but he controlled it, pushing the need away.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not comfortable with compliments?”
“I’m just not used to them. They make me suspicious.”
Bain chuckled. “I guarantee you, I don’t go out of my way to impress anyone. If I give you a compliment, take it.”
They ordered their food and received it about twenty minutes later. Bain had a club sandwich.
“I thought you hated sandwiches,” said Scarlett.
“Never said that.” He finished another bite. “I love them. Anyway, this one’s fancy.”
“I should make you some real food one day,” she said.
“You know how to cook?”
She nodded, taking another spoonful of soup into her mouth. He watched the way her pouty lips wrapped around the utensil, and his cock firmed up in his slacks. After decades of numbness, no desire for love, Scarlett made him feel a powerful longing he’d never felt before.
He wanted to pretend he hadn’t just killed a target this afternoon, go to the grocery store with Scarlett, and play house. It was all a fucking illusion, a life not meant for him. Bain was a killer for hire, nothing more. He wouldn’t even know how to live a normal life if he tried because he’d never been raised with any values or expectations beyond murder and seduction.
They ate and talked until the streetlights came on. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, too wrapped up talking with Scarlett. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a whole man, not a broken son of a bitch. “I want to kiss you,” he said.
She swallowed hard, the candle on the table reflecting in her big green eyes “Okay…”
“Tell me to stop if you want to.”
He didn’t care what anyone around them thought, never had given a shit about other people’s opinions. Bain tucked her soft curves against him and kissed her lips, losing himself as the kiss quickly became deeper and deeper. It was soft, sweet, and gentle. It felt real, more than a moment of passion. He pulled back, but he’d wanted to keep going, to trail those kisses down her neck. Fuck, he wanted her naked and bent over the table.
Bain was losing it. He paid the bill, then took Scarlett’s hand.
“Want to walk for a bit?” he asked. He liked spending time with her, pretending things were different. Once they returned to his house, he’d have to deal with his reality and the complication she was in his life. Boss would only wait so long for him to clean up the mess.
“Okay.”
They walked hand in hand. The sky had darkened but the streets still had shoppers, and the night life scene had already started to pick up. Bain didn’t drink, and he’d always hated being around people. The only time he’d ever set foot in a bar or club was to carry out a hit. With the drugs, alcohol, and music, they were always the easiest contracts.
“Bain, what happens next?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You’re confusing me. First you want me dead, and now you’re acting like we’re on a date or something. I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”
What could he tell her? The truth was raw and dirty. He had to find and kill her friend, and then knock Scarlett off and dump her body at one of Semenov’s clubs so her death looked related to her interview with the Russian mobster. The longer he was with her, the less likely he’d complete what needed to be done. He’d broken the most important rule drilled into him as a captive—never get personal. Never fall in love.
“Let’s just live in the moment,” he said. Bain wasn’t sure exactly how old he was, but he figured over forty. Was it normal for a man his age to feel his heart race from something simple like holding a pretty girl’s hand? It felt more intimate than all the sex he’d had in his life put together.
“Scarlett? Is that you?” A man wearing khakis and a red t-shirt stopped in front on them, and Scarlett’s grip on his hand tightened.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she said, trying to walk around him. When the guy blocked them from passing, Bain wasn’t going to have it.
“Who the fuck is this?” Bain asked, feeling a unique possessiveness wash through him.
Scarlett’s demeanour changed, her body and presence closing in on itself. “My ex’s brother,” she said.
“Really.” Bain looked the shit up and down.
“Michael’s been trying to contact you for ages. Where’ve you been staying?”
“I have a restraining order. He shouldn’t be trying to find me,” she said. “Just stay away from me.”
The piece of shit scowled at Scarlett. “He’s not going to like this. You’ve already moved on to another man when he wants to work things out?”
“I left him over a year ago,” she said. “He has no say over my life, and he never will again.”
Bain could practically feel her nerves, her fear tainting the air. He didn’t like it.
“Back the fuck off,” Bain said. He glanced around, the streets full of night owls. Too many witnesses for him to put a bullet in this asshole.
He shouldered the guy as he passed, securely holding Scarlett’s hand. It was disappointing when he didn’t try to pick a fight.
After walking another block away, they approached a small group of rowdy bikers spilling outside one of the popular dive bars. It was time to get Scarlett back to his house. He didn’t want her exposed to any more shit tonight. This outing was supposed to be about making her happy, not creating more problems.
“Nice tits, baby!” shouted one of the bikers.
Bain shoved Scarlett behind him and punched the bastard with a clean, straight shot to the face. It was enough to send him toppling backward into his friends. A few others rushed him. The venom in Bain’s veins unleashed. He grabbed one in a headlock, punching him into unconsciousness before taking on the other two. It was child’s play compared to other scrapes he’d been in. Bain briefly squatted down, pulling out a lethal switchblade from his boot. He played with it so efficiently, he had the rest of the crowd morbidly transfixed.
“Anyone else want to say something to my woman?”
There were no takers, so he backed away and led Scarlett back to his BMW.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said once they were clear of any trouble.
“Yeah, I did,” he said. “What kind of man stands back while his woman’s insulted?”
She looked up at him as they walked. “I’m your woman now?”
He shook his head. “They didn’t know that.”
“Right…”
He wasn’t sure if that sounded like disappointment. There was no way Scarlett wanted anything to do with him. She tolerated him because she was essentially his prisoner. She’d tried to escape every time he turned around, so she wouldn’t want to be his woman. She was a good girl, and good girls married nice men—men who put in their nine to five every day and paid their taxes.
He opened the passenger door for her. Once he’d settled inside, the quiet was deafening. “That ex of yours. He the one who hurt you?”
Scarlett nodded. “I’ve been hiding for a long time. He destroyed my life, and it seems even that’s not enough for him.”
“Want me to kill him?”
Her mouth fell agape. “You can’t just kill anyone because you feel like it,” she said. “That’s not how real life works … even if we want it to.”
“I’ll do it for you,” he said. “Then you won’t have to look over your shoulder.”
“So you’re letting me go?”
He didn’t want to let go, not ever. The thought of being in his house alone again made him feel uneasy. The solitude had always been his strength, but now he wanted to hear Scarlett’s chatter, hear her breathing next to him at night, and feel the passion she roused in him effortlessly.
“Not yet.”
He pulled onto the road, heading away from the city, back to his sanctuary … or his personal prison. He wasn’t so sure anymore.