I wake up, stretch, and my eyes land on her sleeping form. I rub my hand over my chest as I stare at her. She’s been her for months. I’ve actually lost count. Of all the fucked up shit fate has thrown at me, for this, for her...I’m thankful. I press a kiss against her neck and roll out of the bed, my eyes landing on the picture of my mother and sister.
I like to forget that Tor is really only with me because she has nothing else, because I like to think this is what she has chosen--free from all the fucked up shit that actually made her choose it.
She makes me laugh, she pisses me off, she makes me feel guilty. She. Makes. Me. Feel. I care about her, but love, that’s an emotion I swore off fifteen years ago, which means I can never give her what she deserves, whether I am all she has or not, I can never offer her things most people take for granted.
I shove my way through the crowded stadium, dragging Tor behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch her smile. This situation has only grown more complicated with each passing day, because I’m beginning to dread the thought of her leaving, but more than that, I fear she won’t. She doesn’t belong with me. She’s too good for this life.
We push past several drunk fraternity brothers and walk to the skybox. The doors swing open and the warmth of the heater hits us. We barely make it a foot inside the room before I hear my name. “JP!” Rodney shouts, shoving several men out of his way.
“Good to see you.”
I nod and extend my hand. “Good to see you, partner.”
His gaze skims over her body, stopping on her chest. “This your girl?”
I hesitate, my breathing growing shallow. “Yeah.” That sounds so fucking strange to me, but she is.
“What’s your name, darlin’?” he asks.
She looks nervously at me. I catch her swallow. Maybe she’s been locked up with me for so long she’s forgotten how to socialize with anyone else.
She clears her throat and smiles warmly. “Tor.”
“Well”—his eyes skate over her. “JP’s got good taste in women, Tor.” Rodney grins and guides us over to the bar. “Help yourself to some drinks. The Saints have done me right this year.” He pats my back harder than I’d like. “Thanks to JP here, they’ve done me just right.”
He hands both Tor and me a beer, then raises both brows. “One day I’ll meet your boss, right? Just have to get in his good graces, I suppose?”
I laugh. “Yeah, he’s not much of a people person. Likes anonymity and all.”
Rodney nods, placing a beer to his lips and sucking back a few drinks. “Ahh,” he says after swallowing. “I can understand why. Sure he has a lot of people that’d like to kill him.” He laughs, then squeezes his way through the crowded room to greet someone else who just walked in.
Tor leans into me. “He doesn’t know who you are?”
I shrug. “No one really does.”
She studies me, sips her beer, then slowly looks over the room before her gaze hones in on me accusingly. “Why are we here again?”
“Business.” I shrug and raise the beer to my mouth.
“Business?” She cocks a hip to the side and rolls her eyes. “Please don’t kill anyone.”
I shove a hand in my pocket and laugh. “I’ll try.”
I lean against the wall, watching as one of the men in full-on game attire approaches us. “JP?” he asks.
I nod, taking a sip from the beer.
“Phil Crocker,” he says. He awkwardly holds his hand out to shake mine, releasing a rolled up wad of cash into my palm.
I take the cash and slyly slip it into my pocket. I flash a grin and arch a brow. “It’s all there, right, Phil? I’m not gonna go to the bathroom and count it and find you shorted me, am I?”
“No.” His gaze darts around the room like we’re doing a fucking drug deal. Jesus Christ.
I nod and take another drink beer. “Good.”
Phil walks off and Tor narrows her eyes at me, stepping closer until her chest is brushing my stomach. She slips her hand in my pocket and her eyes widen. “Really? Just like that?”
I smirk, a short laugh rumbling from my lips. “Just like that, doll. Power.” I cock a brow. “Fear is power.”
The game is in the fourth quarter, and I’m more than ready to leave. Every single person in this room is drunk as piss, yelling and shouting and annoying as fuck. I hate having to do social business shit like this.
Fucking Rodney keeps looking at Tor, and I don’t like it. I watch from the bar as Tor smiles politely at various people while she makes her way back to me. I can’t help but stare at her. She laughs at something someone says to her, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she throws her head back. Damn, she’s beautiful. My eyes skate down her body slowly. That dress is hugging every slim curve, and all I can think about is fucking her.
I’m only half paying attention to the guys next to me as they try to discuss the game with me. Tor stops to squeeze through a group, and Rodney’s right behind her. I watch as he places his hand on the small of her back, a little too low on her back. I can see the muscles in her shoulders tense as they stop beside me, and his hand moves away from her. I want to punch him right in the face for touching her like that, but this is not the place do that.
The crowd explodes in fits of screams as the clock runs out of time. Rodney shakes me excitedly. “The only thing that could make this better would be if I could take that girl of yours home with me.” He grins.
My fingers clench inside my palms, and I attempt to laugh it off.
“Seriously,” he says, slightly slurring. He reaches for Tor and I grit my teeth. I watch as he sweeps a stray tendril of hair from her face. It takes every piece of restraint I own to control myself. “How much you want for her?”
Tor bats his hand away, narrowing her eyes at me as though this is somehow my fault.
Rodney grins, his eyes fixing on mine. “Come on, all you ever have around you are whores. Can’t share?”
I grab her hand and yank her to me, wrapping an arm around her waist. I glare at Rodney, my pulse throbbing in my temples, my chest heaving from the sudden anger building inside it like a tank. “Fucking apologize to her,” I growl, my jaw tightly clenched. It feels like my heart’s beating in the back of my damn throat.
He rolls his eyes and lifts the beer back to his mouth. “I was just having fun, JP. Calm the hell down.” I can feel the veins in my neck pop. He takes a short sip, licking the froth from his mouth. His gaze veers back to Tor and one corner of his thin lips curve into a smart-ass grin.
Everything inside me ignites. I grab him by the back of his head and smash his face into the bar. I drag him away from the bar and slam him against the wall, repeatedly smashing his skull against it. His hands claw at my arms and he tries to twist free of my hold, but there is no way in hell I am letting him go. “Learn some fucking respect,” I shout as I continue to violently bash his head against the wall. The back of his head is bleeding, and the larger the cardinal-red spot grows, the more I want to keep going.
I hear the other men in the room shout. Tor is screaming, yelling at me to stop. It’s all muffled background noise to the loud hammering of my own pulse. I want to kill this fucker.
“Let him go!”
“Get off him!”
Strangers are shouting, and I know it’s only a matter of time before these guys try to tear me off of him. Something bumps against the back of my knee. Suddenly Tor is hanging off my arm.
She grabs my chin, turning my face toward her. Her eyes lock with mine, wide and blue, and pleading. “Jude.” She shakes her head. “Stop.”
I release Rodney and he slumps down the wall, barely coherent.
“You okay?” she asks, her soft hands still clinging to my face.
I’m breathing heavily, and all I can do is shake my head no at first. After several deep breaths, I shout, “Fuck no! I want to kill him.”
“Look at me.” I look at her, only her. “Just breathe. Calm. Non-murderous thoughts.” She smiles, and the anger starts to dissipate. She’s like a bright fucking light, pulling me back from the darkness.
My pulse is slowing, my breathing falling more even, and for a second I find myself thinking she may be the one thing that can save me from myself. Even with all she’s been through, she still has this innocence to her that fucking consumes me, and I want to protect that. I refuse to let her become tainted by the filth that surrounds me.
“Nobody's gonna talk to you like that!” I take a calming breath.
There’s understanding in her eyes as she nods. “It’s fine.” She glances over her shoulder at the room of people staring. “Look, let’s get out of here.”
I turn. All eyes are fixed on us. It’s apparent none of these pansy-ass business men know how to handle a 225-pound pissed-off guy. I take a step and my foot hits something. There’s a groan from the floor. I look down to see a guy lying on the floor, his knees bent to his chest, his hands tucked between his thighs cupping his junk, and his eyes squeezed shut.
“Yeah, he was about to bottle you over the head,” Tor explains, shrugging. I glance up at her, and a pleased grin makes its way onto my lips. Damn, that shouldn’t be hot, but it is.
As soon as we get outside, I turn and pin her against the wall next to the door. People pass us, most drunkenly singing and celebrating.
“Jude?” She glances up at me with those innocent eyes and it hits me in a place that I’m not sure should ever be touched.
“You shouldn’t be getting in the middle of a fight,” I breathe across her lips. I hear her inhale deeply as her fingers cling to my shoulders. “If anyone hurt you, I’d fucking kill them. You’re my girl.” There is so much more to say than just that, but I can’t and I won’t say it. Whatever this is, it needs to remain unsaid because it is wrong on numerous levels.
“Didn’t want him to ruin your pretty face.” She smirks. “It’s your only redeeming feature.” Her voice is low and raspy as her eyes fall to my lips. Damn, I wish she wouldn’t look at me like that.
“My face isn’t my best asset.” My lips barely brush against hers. “And you damn well know it.” I smirk.
She bites at her bottom lip as her fingers trail from my shoulders to wrap around the back of my neck.
“I am rather fond of your face, though.” She pushes onto her tiptoes and closes the space between us, placing a tender kiss to my lips. I crave this. I crave her. Even the devil needs something to break through his darkness at times. And that’s what Tor does...she rips through my darkness. I wrap my arms around her small waist, pulling her body close to mine to kiss her deeper. When I release her she’s breathless, her cheeks flushed. I fucking love that I do that to her every fucking time.
“Let’s go before we both get arrested,” she says.
I chuckle as we weave through the masses. “I don’t get arrested. Too many cops and politicians owe me, doll. I’m untouchable.”
Untouchable, except with her. She touches places inside me that shouldn’t be alive. She makes me weak, and the fucked-up thing is that I like it. She takes my control and challenges it, and it drives me insane, but I get off on it. She forces me to fucking feel. Honestly, obsession isn’t enough to explain this pull between us, because it’s more like an addiction. I know it will kill one of us, but at the moment the high seems fucking worth it.
She glances back at me, smiling like she couldn't be any fucking happier, like she’s forgotten why she’s even with me. She‘s stopped thinking of me as the person holding her captive...because I’m really not. She doesn’t belong with me, much less in this life, and for that I feel guilty because I’m nowhere near willing to let her go.