Page 44 of Felix

“Good,” he replies, a wicked grin on his face. “Because I’ll always be here for you whether you like it or not.”

“Thanks, Felix,” I say, trying to sound grateful but knowing his presence is both a blessing and a curse. His obsession with protecting me is a double-edged sword, one that could easily cut me if I’m not careful.

The moment I exit the car, Felix’s eyes linger on me, dark and possessive. “You sure you don’t want me to come in?” he asks, concern etched into his features.

“Positive,” I insist, swallowing my anxiety. “It’ll take hours, and you’ve got work.”

“Alright. I’ll be back when I’m done with my drop-offs. I’ll wait for you in the car.” He leans out, planting a rough kiss on my lips that leaves me breathless.

“Thanks, Felix,” I whisper. With a deep breath, I force myself to walk into the bookstore.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath as I settle behind the signing table. There’s already a line snaking its way out the door. For four goddamn hours, I scribble my name onto page after page, each one a reminder of the darkness that birthed my bestselling book.

“Love your work,” one fan gushes while I sign their copy. I manage a tight smile, stifling the urge to tell them how fucked up they are for finding pleasure in my pain.

“Thanks,” I mutter, fighting against the suffocating feeling that threatens to overwhelm me. Four hours might as well be an eternity, and I just want it over.

Is it time to go yet? I’m desperate to escape, to crawl back into the safety of Felix’s arms, even though he terrifies me. But there’s something intoxicating about him, something that keeps me tethered to his side. Maybe it’s how he protects me like I’m his prized possession or the raw power that pulses beneath his skin. It’s hard to say.

My heart is hammering in my chest as I look up at one of the last few lingerers. A tall, slender man with brown hair locks eyes with me, those familiar green orbs piercing through me. He places my book down, and his voice sends shivers down my spine.

“Where’d you get the story from?” he asks, a sickly sweet smile on his face. The familiarity of his voice makes my skin crawl, but I can’t place it.

“From… my own experiences,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. His eyes bore into me, and my mind races, trying to figure out why this man seems so fucking familiar.

I sign the book, and as I hand it over, his hand touches mine. I shiver, feeling like a thousand tiny needles are pricking my skin. This man scares me.

“See you soon,” he whispers, leaning close to my ear. “You’re still mine.” He turns, walking away like he just dropped a fucking bomb on me. My body freezes, terrorclenching my throat. I know him. I know that voice. He was one of the men who kidnapped me all those years ago.

I scream, my voice raw and desperate. Tears blur my vision as panic overwhelms me. But then, strong tattooed arms wrap around me, pulling me into a solid chest. I smell cedar and old blood, and something in me relaxes, even though I know I shouldn’t.

“Easy, darling, easy,” Felix murmurs into my hair, his presence a strange comfort amidst the chaos in my head.

My head snaps up from Felix’s chest, and I see the shock on everyone’s face around me. My publicist’s mouth is hanging open like she has never seen a full-blown panic attack before.

“Let’s get outta here, darling,” Felix says, scooping me up into his arms as easy as lifting a damn pillow. He strides out of the shop with me cradled against him, and nobody even tries to stop us.

“Felix,” I mumble into his neck, breathing in that familiar cedar and blood scent. It’s fucked up, but it’s what grounds me right now.

“Darling, you’re safe now,” he reassures me as he opens the car door, sliding me inside.

As we drive home, tears pour down my face, unstoppable. I want to tell Felix everything about the man who came back from my past just to fuck with me, but I can’t find the words. They cling to my throat like a goddamn noose.

“Hey,” Felix says softly, glancing over at me. “Just breathe, Aurora. We’ll deal with this shit.”

I nod, trying to steady my breathing, but it feels like I’mdrowning all over again. The world outside the car window blurs, and all I can think about is how that sick bastard is still out there, promising to come for me. And I know, deep down, that this fight is far from over.

Chapter Thirty-One

Felix Greyson

While I sit in my car parked just outside the quaint book, I impatiently tap my fingers on the steering wheel. My eyes constantly flicker to the entrance, waiting for Aurora to finish her signing. I had only completed a few quick errands, not wanting to be away from her for too long. She hates feeling out of control, and these events always seem to trigger that feeling in her. But I can’t help but feel proud as she interacts with fans and signs copies of her bestselling book. The sun casts a warm glow on the street, its rays bouncing off the shiny cars and storefronts. A light breeze dances through the air, carrying the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods from the nearby café.

Aurora, with her troubled past and constant struggle with anxiety in crowds, always seems to retreat into herself. While I wait in the car for her to finish her book signing, I can’t help but feel anxious. My heart pounds against my chest like a relentless jackhammer, ready to spring intoaction at any moment. Every passing minute feels like an eternity as I long for her to return so we can leave. The thought of leaving her alone, even for this short time, fills me with dread.

I let out a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I have to keep it together for Aurora. She doesn’t need me freaking out on her. But then—shit, I hear it—a blood-curdling scream that pierces through every goddamn nerve in my body. My gut clenches.

“Son of a bitch!” I growl, hurling myself from the car, not giving a single fuck about anything else. I barrel through the bookshop’s door, nearly knocking some poor bastard off his feet. I don’t have time for apologies. I must get to her.

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