While She Sleeps: The Dirty Heroes Collection Page 5

  SB: Yes.

  BP: Well, one of them is watching you sleep. I . . . I have an affliction. I’m not sure where it comes from, or why I feel it, but when I see a woman asleep, unconscious, it turns me on.

  SB: So, you’re stalking me and watching me sleep while you’re . . . turned on?

  BP: Long answer or short answer?

  SB: Don’t bullshit me. I need to know. I’m not going to turn you in, but I need to know everything about this situation. I know that this situation isn’t normal, that’s clear, but if I’m meant to trust you, surely you can give me something to trust.

  BP: I like you, feisty. And yes, I was hard looking at you. All I could think about was painting your pretty face with my seed. And I craved it. I told you, Beauty, I’m not a good man. Not at all. I’m broken, and my mind tends to lead me into dark corners when I wish I could be normal.

  What does that even mean? I stare at the screen for a long while, trying to figure out what he’s talking about, but before I can respond, another message comes through from him.

  BP: Let me keep you safe. From everything.

  Safe. It’s a relative word to me because nothing I can do will ever keep me safe forever. Eventually, they’ll find me, and when they do, my life will no longer be my own. What can another man, perhaps just as dangerous, offer me? Nothing more than a bodyguard who would be taken down the moment Herbert and his men step into the ring with him.

  SB: I can’t ask you to do that. It’s my life, and I need to live it out the way I choose.

  BP: Meet me in the park. Just once more, and I’ll try to show you that I’m worthy of your trust. Please.

  The sun is high now, streaming through my living room windows, which overlook the meadow, and I take note of the bench where I sat only hours ago. It feels like a lifetime. I consider his offer, if he wants to meet, perhaps I can give him that much.

  SB: Okay. Give me an hour.

  BP: Why? You going to make yourself look pretty for me, Beauty?

  I laugh out loud, but I also feel heat blooming in my cheeks. I’ll get to see him. The thought of finally seeing his face makes my stomach tumble wildly.

  SB: Perhaps. I’ll see you soon.

  I log off before I’m tempted to ask him any more questions. I head into the bathroom to freshen up before I make my way into my bedroom and find a pretty summer dress, along with a denim jacket, which I shrug on before pushing my feet into a pair of Doc Martens that have seen better days. I look like a crazy hippie with my mismatched colors, but I don’t care. This is who I am now, someone so opposite of who I was that at times I don’t recognize myself.

  With fifteen minutes to spare, I make my way out of the apartment and onto the road, taking the path up toward the same bench from earlier. My phone is in my pocket if I need it, and I have a small pocketknife chained to my keys.

  I’ve been wary for a long time, and even though I’ve come out here before, I’ve always kept my knife on me. It’s tiny, but it will do some damage. I’m definitely not trained to fight, but I can hold my own.

  I settle on the bench, taking in the people heading out for a morning run or breakfast at the local café, and even those walking their dogs. This is fine; I’ll be okay. I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing myself to calm down, but the flip-flop in my stomach doesn’t ease.

  I’m about to take a short walk toward the trees when someone slumps beside me on the bench. He’s wearing a dark hoodie, along with a baseball cap, which hides part of his face.

  “You came,” I speak. My voice is scratchy, filled with both excitement and trepidation. Why won’t he show me his face?

  7

  Logan

  Those two words are the balm to my ever-aching heart. I made a mistake with her all those years ago, and I promise myself now that I won’t do it again. When she agreed to meet me, I decided it’s now or never. If I show her my face, she’ll hate me.

  I can do it right now, and while I wait for her to recognize me, I know I’ll hold my breath, and it will be the end of my secrets. Can I let go of that part of me? The desire that coils itself around my veins, thrumming through my blood. If she does know who I am, I’ll have to explain why I walked away from her.

  Silently, I weigh my options, but I don’t move. The hoodie covers my face, and I don’t turn to her, yet being beside her makes me want to show her who I am. Need fires inside me, sparking the coldness into heat that sears every inch of my body.

  I want nothing more than to look into her eyes and see her beautiful face without hiding. But for now, I sit and look ahead of me. I can feel her staring, waiting. I know the moment I look into her eyes for the first time in nine, almost ten years will be jarring.

  When I first met her, she was pretty, cute, but now she’s a woman, all grown up, and I need to be prepared for the effect she will no doubt have on me.

  “I came,” I tell her, but she’s still staring. I inhale a deep breath before I finally decide to do it. I push back the hoodie of my jacket and glance her way. The breath I took whooshes from my lungs in one fell swoop. Her eyes are like gems as they pierce me right to the very fucking core.

  If she recognizes me, she doesn’t say anything about it. Silence stretches between us like a wire tugged taut, ready to snap. A smile tilts her pouty lips up. They’re not shimmering, merely soft and wet from the way her tongue darts out, and she licks at them nervously.

  “I didn’t think I’d see your face,” she says, but there’s still no recognition in her eyes.

  “And? Was it everything you thought it would be?” I ask, smirking as she blushes a deeper shade of pink. Her soft, porcelain skin reminds me of those collectible dolls you find at antique stores. Untouchable, beautiful, fragile. And that’s what she is.

  I must remind myself that no matter what her desires are, this girl is nothing short of breakable. I could so easily make her cry, make her scream, and that thought doesn’t do all that much for me like the thought of her under me while she’s asleep. And that’s where my depraved mind goes as I look at her.

  “Perhaps,” she tells me. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.” Her voice breaks, but I watch her swallow down whatever emotion suddenly appears, and she shakes her head. “A long time ago, I thought someone would save me from myself, from my life. My father wasn’t a good man — well, isn’t — since he’s still alive.”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

  She ignores me and continues, “He brought someone to me on my birthday, told me he was the man I would marry one day.” My chest caves in, and I am certain she’s about to confess that she knows who I am. Surely, she does.

  “And then?”

  “Like I told you before, he didn’t want me.”

  “Why wouldn’t he want you?” I lean my elbows on my thighs, looking at her over my shoulder. Those gorgeous, jewel-like eyes shimmer with emotion. If she blinks, her tears will fall, and I picture what she’ll look like with makeup streaked across her face.

  “I don’t blame him. I was only ten at the time.”

  “What if he walked back into your life right now?” I don’t know why I ask this. That’s a lie; I do know. I want her to tell me she’ll accept me, the man who walked out and made sure her chances of surviving were shot to hell. Her father fucking sold her off to my father, and all for what?

  “I would probably ask him why he hated me that much he’d allow my life to be shoved into the path of another bad man.”

  “What if it wasn’t his choice?”

  “Wasn’t it?” she questions, finally meeting my gaze. “You walked away and left me there, wondering what was wrong with me.” She knows who I am. The anger that simmers in her pretty eyes sparks something inside me, want and need, and something else. The need to make it right. To help her.

  “Let me fix this and take you away.”

  “Why? So your guilt can ease from what you forced me into?” She’s on her feet, her arms crossed in front of her chest
, and I know soon enough she’s going to walk away from me. But I can’t let that happen. If I do, when all hell breaks loose back home, she’s going to be in the line of fire.

  “Yes,” I answer honestly. I can’t lie to her. She deserves the truth, and that’s what she’ll get from me. But I need to make her see the danger she’s in. “If you don’t want to come with me, I’ll have to force you. There’s a war coming, Beauty, and it’s not going to be pretty. There will be casualties, and I don’t want you to be one of them.”

  She stares at me for a long while. There’s intrigue in her gaze and a million questions that flit across her expression. I want to answer them all, to give her the truths she didn’t get for so long. But right now, my focus must be on getting her out of town.

  The cabin.

  It’s safe, secluded, and it’s the only place I know they won’t look for her.

  “Don’t come back here,” she tells me. “I thought you were someone else, someone who—”

  “I need you to listen to me,” I bite out, pushing to my feet, gripping her shoulders tightly. I want to pull her close to me, to hold her, but she shoves me away.

  “No. I won’t listen to you, or my father, or anyone else for that matter. I chose to hide from my life, and I’m not going to let you pull me back into that sordid mess.”

  “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “By lying to me?”

  “Lying?” My brows furrow at her words. How did I lie to her?

  “Broken Prince?” she scoffs. “Please, spare me the pain and agony of your perfect life with all that money, status, and the fact that when you saw me, you sneered at me as if I were shit under your shoe.”

  “You were a fucking child!” Somehow, my outburst hits her hard, and she stumbles backward away from me. “You were a child,” I say once more, this time less angry.

  She nods. “I was. But we both grew up knowing our lives would be mapped out before us. And because of you, I have to live like this.” She waves her hand around her at the town where she’s been hiding.

  “Things are happening that will put you in danger.”

  “More so now than I’ve been before?” she challenges. One thing I’m learning about sweet Vera Rose is that she’s not the shy girl I thought she’d be.

  “Yes.” The one word hangs between us ominously, and I hope she can see the truth in my eyes because I can’t tell her more than that until I’ve heard from Dax. Her father is in prison, so he won’t be pulled into this shitshow, but she’s here, bait for the sharks to find. And I’ll be damned if I let that happen.

  “Please, just leave me alone.”

  “I can’t do that, Beauty,” I tell her, stepping closer to her, feeling her curves against my hardness. “Because the moment you turn your back on me, I’ll follow you, and I will most certainly steal you from your life here. I can’t let you get hurt. That’s not who I am, not anymore. I don’t care if you believe me or not. I’m going to keep you safe. One way or another.”

  “Don’t ever threaten me,” she bites out, her words pure venom, dripping anger, and I can’t help but smile. “This isn’t funny.” Her voice is tight with emotion.

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  “I’m leaving now, and if you know what’s good for you, so will you. Don’t come back to this town. It’s mine. I chose it. I’m done talking about the past.” She pulls free from me, but what she doesn’t know is, I’m not leaving that easily. I watch her turn and walk down the meadow. Pulling my hoodie back up, I smile as she disappears from sight.

  Tonight, I’ll come back for her. And then we’ll be free from danger.

  8

  Logan

  In the hotel, I try once more to make her see the truth. If she doesn’t want to listen to me face to face, I’m going to tell her word for word.

  BP: I’m not here to play games, Beauty. I may not be the first person you wanted in your life right now, but I’m here, and I won’t allow you to get yourself hurt because of the past. Like I said, a war is coming, and you’ll be a casualty if you don’t trust me. One chance, that’s all I need. Please.

  I hit send before I have time to second-guess myself. I’m frustrated, yet I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she looked when fire danced in her eyes. I head into the kitchen and find a beer. It’s fucking ten in the morning, yet I’m swallowing back the alcohol like it’s ten in the evening.

  The computer dings, but I don’t go to it. Instead, I head into the bedroom and pull out the suitcase I brought here a couple of days ago. Inside, I find what I need — the cloth, blindfold, cuffs, and the bottle filled with a drug that will ensure my sweet girl is asleep long enough for me to get her out of her apartment, into the car, and back to my cabin.

  I wasn’t lying to Vera when I told her I’d steal her away. Once all the items are laid out on the bed, I pack my clothes into the suitcase and set it at the door. Ready for me to leave at a moment’s notice.

  Once I know everything is cleaned, wiped down, and back to where it was before I entered the room, I pick up my laptop and find a response from Vera waiting for me.

  SB: You chose to walk away. Don’t try to lay your guilt on me by telling me you’re here to play the hero. I don’t need one, and I don’t want one. I’ll be deleting my account, so stop contacting me.

  My chest tightens at her words. Even just the thought of never laying my eyes on her again takes the breath from my lungs. That can’t happen, ever.

  * * *

  The night is clear, the moon slowly waning in the darkness, and the stars bright, shimmering prickles of diamonds in the ink of the sky. I’m dressed, the car is ready, and I have everything I need. I’ve never done this before, stolen someone from their home.

  In the past, I wouldn’t second-guess myself, but after learning about my father’s dirty dealings, I feel like I’m turning into him. Even though I’m trying to save her, Vera isn’t going to like the fact that I’m taking her without her permission.

  Kidnapping.

  Stalking.

  All of this is wrong, but I can’t stop myself now. As I drive down the main road and toward her building, I play out in my mind all the ways this could go wrong. She could scream. Her neighbors could call the cops. She could try to run, hurt herself.

  Or it could be as simple as walking in, injecting her with the drug, and sweeping her into my arms and walking out of her apartment without anybody noticing.

  I watch her window from the street, and I wonder if she can sense me here in the darkness. But she shuts her curtain before turning out the light. I wait, inhaling a deep breath, focusing on the job at hand.

  When my father sent me out on jobs, I would be confident, didn’t give a shit what happened to me, but this time, it’s not only my life on the line. Perhaps that makes it even more dangerous than it should be.

  I head down to the car and start the engine. I planned this over the past few days, and me slipping through her window was a test to see if I could do it. So, I know my way up and the way down. I pull onto a small back road and stop right behind her apartment block.

  Thankfully, it’s dark, and there doesn’t seem to be anybody lurking around. The rope and tape, along with the syringe, are all in hand as I ascend the steps. Nervousness sparks through me, and I silently ask for her forgiveness.

  When I reach the second floor, I stop, listening for any noise from Vera’s neighbor, but it seems the apartment is dead-quiet. Pulling my lockpicking device from my pocket, I crouch and work the door until I hear the familiar click.

  It’s so quiet I can hear my heart beating. The exhilaration of doing something wrong still sparks excitement in my veins. Inside the apartment, I make my way through the darkness, my eyes slowly adjusting to the surroundings as I move.

  There’s a lamp shining from inside her living room, which casts the rest of the apartment in a yellow shadow. When I reach her bedroom door, it’s open, and there, on the king-sized bed, is my beauty.

  S
he’s asleep, her eyes closed, her body draped in the sheet, and her chest rising and falling gently as she dreams. I wonder briefly if I’m in those dreams. Am I on her mind as she lies unconscious?

  My cock hardens painfully against my zipper when I move closer. Her nipples are hard against the smooth white material of her tank top. I pull the syringe from my pocket and tug the cap off before testing a small squirt of sedative.

  When I lean in, I catch her scent, vanilla, and pine. It’s an interesting combination, heady and sweet, yet so familiar I’m painfully aching to be with her, inside her.

  The moment the needle enters her smooth, soft flesh, her eyes snap open, and her mouth gapes. But I’m faster, and my hand lands on her mouth, catching her scream in my palm. Her eyes are wide, fear shining in them as she tries to make out what is happening.

  When she realizes it’s me, she halts all fight, but I put that down to the drug rather than her accepting it’s me about to steal her. Once her lashes flutter and she’s asleep once more, I scoop her up and take her through to the living room where I lay her on the sofa.

  I move quickly, grabbing a rucksack from her closet and filling it with clothes, her laptop, and some personal items from her nightstand, including the bracelet I gave her. She may not forgive me right away, but one day, she’ll realize this is for her own good.

  Once we’re in the car, it doesn’t take long for me to head out onto the highway and out of the small town she called home. The cabin is waiting, and I know soon enough, I’ll have to keep her locked up until she comes to terms with her new home.

  I can only pray it’s enough to keep her safe.