Page 17 of Under His Watch

I gave in to the lean and gathered her in my arms. She probably wasn’t aware of how she made space for me on the bed, but I pushed closer until I sat next to her.

“I’ve got you,” I said, rubbing my hand over her back as she curled and slanted into me. This wasn’t a hug. It was a full-body hold that she seemed to need.

I wasn’t so serious and cold that I lacked physical touch. I wasn’t impervious to the need for human contact. Over the years, I got that need met from dalliances with whores and one-nightstands. When I was a young boy, my father was always ready to envelop me in a hug just as often as he was prepared to teach me about the hardness of the Mafia life.

How fucking long has it been sinceyouhad anyone?

I rubbed Tessa’s back and let her cling to me as she steadied her breath. Hugging me seemed to help. She didn’t suck in air like she was on the verge of hyperventilating or crying. As I held her and offered her wordless comfort, I replayed the sad admission she’d shared.“No one ever helps me.”

I grew more and more irritated at the fact that this woman might not have anyone. No help. No support. No one and nothing? She didn’t deserve that.

“I will help you,” I repeated. I’d lost count of how many times I’d told her that. And I would echo it many more times, as much as I had to until she knew that she was no longer alone.

She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek against my chest, and I rested my chin on the top of her head. This was a simple, fundamental hug, but it opened the gates to my feeling so much more.

I’d only met her a day ago, not even. For hours, Tessa had been in my life, and already, she'd prompted me to go to such extremes for her. To fight for her. To save her. To avenge what was done. And now, to just be with her. Sitting and calming down from the high anxiety of the conversation we’d had so far.

Her warm, slender body fit so well against mine, and when I sighed several moments later, she did the same, breathing deeply and settling against me.

I told Franco that I wanted a project. That I needed something of a new purpose in my life to distract me from the guilt about the three soldiers dying. Tessa, whoever she was, seemed to be the missing piece I needed.

I was smitten without even knowing much about her, and I hoped that now might be the time to learn a thing or two. She hadn’t recoiled from learning I killed those three men. Maybe it was a sign of her grittier conscience, that she wanted revenge and was happy—not appalled—that I’d taken their lives. Her acceptance of my being a killer was a huge first step to count on in connecting with her.

“Would I be a horrible person to want to say thank you?” she asked softly, tracing her finger back and forth on my shirt. It seemed like an abstract movement, not a deliberate caress, but it felt so good. “For… for removing them?”

“No. And you’re welcome.”

“Are you a hitman?”

Sometimes.“I’m a man who wants to take care of you,” I reminded her, avoiding giving her more information about myself. Asking her questions about herself would probably turn into sounding like an interrogation, and I wanted to avoid that. Shifting her so she could lean on me but also face me, I rubbed her arm and gazed into her dark-blue eyes.

No glossiness of tears shone now, and I wanted to keep it that way. “Who are you, Tessa?”

She shrugged. “Just a waitress from that sports bar—” Her brows dipped and she scoffed. “Oh, God.” When she lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear but failed in keeping her blonde tresses back, I took over and did it for her.

I was already so damn smitten that I’d take any excuse to touch her. To comfort her. “What’s wrong?”

“My car.” She shook her head, using the action to nestle in against me. “Well, it’s not mine. I could never save up for one. It’s my dad’s.”

Your dad that you want to avoid going home to, I recalled. She’d been so adamant about not going home.

“He expected me to bring it home last night. Well, I guess this morning. He wanted to go somewhere.” Her frown deepened. “He called me just before I was allowed to be done with my shift, actually. He’ll be so damn mad that I didn’t bring the car back.”

“Is he always controlling like that?” I asked. I hoped that rubbing her arm would serve as a physical cue to relax even though I was pushing for answers. This moment felt a lot like aftercare, when I would make sure my lover could handle how hard I’d been during sex.

“Yes. Him and my mom both.”

“Is that why you don’t want to go home?” I asked.

“No. Yes.” She blew out such a hard breath that the short, golden strands of her bob lifted from her face. “They have strict expectations for me.”

“Including bringing a car home on time?” I almost said it mockingly. “Tessa, what happened to you isnotyour fault.”

She swallowed and nodded. “I know. Logically, that makes sense, but I can’t imagine telling them about it. They expected me to marry the son of their friends, and now that this happened…” She shrugged.

“Is that the Elliot you mentioned last night?”

“Yes. Jeez. What else did I blurt? I don’t remember all that I said last night.”

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