He still wasn’t home at two in the morning, and I was beginning to worry despite myself.

It wasn’t like I really cared about him one way or the other, but he was the only person I had in the world at that moment. I needed him, as much as I hated to admit it. I needed him to help me start my life, to get myself together, to escape my father’s long shadow.

I didn’t know how these security things normally went. I felt exhausted but too wired to sleep. I needed to know if he was coming back or if the mafia was going to kick down that door and drag me away to be killed. Or worse, they’d take me and sell me to one of those sex brothels you heard about on the news sometimes.

I couldn’t imagine a life worse than my own, but maybe living as a drugged-up sex toy for rich, sick perverts was worse. Maybe I’d had it good, living with my abusive and thieving asshole father.

The world could be a dark place, and right now, Brooks was the only good thing in it, or at least I hoped he was good.

When three rolled around, I found myself getting up and going back into his closet. I took out that gun, and although I knew it wasn’t loaded, it made me feel safe. I didn’t know what I’d do with it, probably just throw it at someone.

As I carried the empty gun out into the living room, the apartment door shuddered. I took a step back and stared as the lock slowly opened and the handle twisted.

The door flung open. I raised the empty gun, horrified.

Brooks practically fell into the room, his face twisted in pain. I let the gun drop as I ran to his side.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to help support his weight.

“Job went bad,” he grunted. “Fuck, I’m in a lot of pain. Help me to the kitchen.”

He leaned on me as we limped together. I sat him down on a chair and he groaned in pain.

“Where are you hurt?”

“Chest.” He took his shirt off and I stared at the bulletproof vest. He showed me the two bullets lodged in the vest, one near his heart, the other lower down.

“Come on, let’s get this off.”

He grimaced as he unstrapped the vest. I helped him gingerly pull it off, his breath coming in shallow and fast. I could see the pain on his face, but he was trying to hide it.

Finally, we got the vest and his shirt off. I stared at the large, blooming black bruises along his skin.

“Shit,” I said. “This looks bad.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” he said. “I can fucking feel it.”

“What happened?”

I went into the cabinets and finally found a clean towel. He sighed, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to know.”

“You got shot, Brooks,” I said. “I feel like I need to know.”

“Job went bad. That’s all.”

I sat back down next to him and began to dab gently at the cuts all over his face. He flinched back.

“Relax,” I said. “I just need to clean this up.”

“You a nurse or something?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “I used to take care of my dad a lot. Unsurprisingly, drunks get hurt all the time.”

“He ever get shot?”

“Only once.”

He looked away. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “I’m not.” I dabbed at his cuts, trying to be gentle.

“What was it like, living with him?”

“Not great,” I said. “He was a violent piece of shit, but that wasn’t the worst part. He was controlling and stole most of my money.”

“Why didn’t you get out of there?”

I clenched my jaw. “It’s not that easy,” I said. “He was my father. I couldn’t just leave him to die in a puddle of his own vomit.”

“Maybe you should have.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t. Plus, I tried to leave, but every time I had enough money saved, he’d find it and gamble it away.”

“Been a hard life,” he grunted.

“Yeah, and it’s not looking much better right now.”

He nodded. “I know about hard lives. Yours isn’t done just yet.”

“I have no friends, Brooks. Most of my friends either drifted away, went to college, or got sick of me constantly dealing with my insane father. It’s hard to be optimistic.”

He grinned at me despite the pain. “You got me,” he said.

“Oh great. I have a complete stranger who kills people for a living.”

“Better than the alternative.”

“Which is what?”

“Being dead, probably.”

I laughed and stood up. “Maybe.” I went over to the freezer and opened it. I began to pile ice into the towel. “How’d you end up as a killer anyway? They take auditions, read your resume?”

“Not exactly.”

“So how then?”

He looked away as I sat back down and pressed the ice against his bruised body.

“The Barone family took me in when I was young and had nothing else. They taught me things, how to shoot and how to get away with it, how to stalk my prey, that sort of thing. Turned out I was good at it.”

“They just stuck a gun in your hand then?”

“More or less. There’s a man named Gian, a boss in the family. Back then he was just running a local crew. He took me in and trained me, and he brought me up through the ranks as he climbed.”

“So you had a patron in violence.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Something like that.”

“Here. Hold this,” I said, taking his hand and pressing it against the towel.

I felt something rush through me as he looked at me, his eyes intense and hungry. His hand pressed against mine sent chills down my spine as I imagined what this killer, this man, could do with those hands. I realized that I was dripping wet.

“Have you thought about my offer?” he asked softly, his voice deep and smooth.

“What offer?”

“To make you feel good,” he said. Lightning struck my body. “I can make that body bend over, your skin on fire with pleasure.”

“I haven’t thought about it at all,” I lied.

He smirked at me. “I doubt that. You’ve been thinking about what my thick cock would feel like between your legs. You want to slide that wet cunt down my length and shiver as I fuck you deep and rough.”

“You’re in no condition to be doing any of that,” I said, standing quickly and pulling my hand away.

“I think you’d be surprised by what I’m capable of,” he said.

I walked away from him, grabbing another towel. I began to fill it with ice again.

“I think your ribs are broken,” I said.

“They’re not.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had broken ribs before. This isn’t that bad.”

I sighed and handed him the other ice towel. “Okay then. You’re the expert on getting your ass kicked, I guess.”

“That I am.”

He took the ice and pressed it against the other bruise.

“Look at you,” he said. “You’re practically dripping where you stand. Did I excite you so much that you need to run away?”

“I’m not running away,” I said.

“Sure you are. You can’t handle how badly you want me to suck that pussy until you can’t stand.”

“I’d rather you not bleed all over me.”

“All I hear are excuses, but no denial. We both know what you want. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Good night, Brooks,” I said, turning away.

“Night then, Emma. Sweet dreams. Go touch that little pussy of yours and think about me.”

I flipped him off and then went into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I took a deep breath, trying to get myself together. What the hell was wrong with me? Brooks was a killer and a kidnapper. But he’d also saved my life, and he made me feel something I’d never experienced before. Chills ran down my spine, and my body reacted to his every word. It was like I had no control over myself when that man started talking dirty to me.

I undressed and got into bed and couldn’t help but do exactly what he’d told me to do. I slipped my hands down my panties and closed my eyes tight as I began to touch myself, thinking about Brooks.

I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him, despite hating that I needed him. I hated that another man was protecting me, owning me. I wanted to get away, but I also wanted him to take me.

I wanted him to press me back up against the door, kiss my neck and lips, his hands rushing down along my skin. He’d hike up my skirt and find my pussy, dripping wet. I could only guess at the dirty things he’d have to say about that.

And of course he’d begin to work my pussy, just like I was touching myself in bed, thinking about him. I imagined him pressing his fingers deep inside me, kissing my lips, grinning at me with that delicious smile. He’d work me hard and fast, my hands gripping his shoulders, my whole body shaking as he pressed himself against me. I could practically feel his warm breath against my skin as I rubbed my own clit, imagining that my fingers were his.

And as I got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, he’d turn me around, force me over, spread my legs, and get down on his knees. He’d peel my panties down and then lick my pussy from behind, getting me soaked and squirming.

Then he’d stand and press his thick cock deep inside me.

I felt my own fingers press inside as I worked myself, biting my lip, my eyes closed shut. Brooks would fuck my tight pussy from behind, working me, whispering in my ear. I’d never been taken before, but he’d know exactly what to do. He’d command me easily, make me work my hips as he slid his cock deep inside me.

The thought of him fucking me from behind, working my clit and whispering orders in my ear, sent me over the edge. The orgasm overtook me, my legs shaking, and I couldn’t get that grinning face from my mind.

I finished and lay back, panting. I couldn’t believe I’d just gotten myself off in his bed with him right out there. He probably heard me moaning even though I was trying to be quiet.

I couldn’t let myself want him. I needed to be free, needed to be strong. I had to get out of this situation, and I had to do it soon. I couldn’t rely on Brooks or anyone.

I drifted off to sleep, angry at myself, but still wanting to dream of him.