Page 25 of Bound

Chapter Six

Porter

Fuck. . .

Her body was limp in my arms, legs dangling and bouncing off my thigh with each step I took. Looking down at her, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but I knew that couldn't be true.

Every so often she would mumble inaudible words, her face scrunching up in terror as dreams turned to nightmares she couldn't escape. Nightmares that I was probably the center of.

I took her. I can't believe I fucking took her.

I didn't have a choice.

That was my argument with myself, my rationale for abducting this woman off the street. I wasn't sure exactly what to do with her, I didn't know if anyone else had seen us together, all I knew was that Frankie doesn't usually travel alone.

What the fuck did I do?

I had taken part in the ultimate sin, I had stolen the air from someone else's lungs, I had stolen any future he might have had. I knew I should feel some sort of remorse for what I had done, that's what any normal person would experience.

But honestly, I didn't give a fuck. Why?

My goal from the beginning had been to stay under the radar, to be a ghost in the night, slip in, slit their throats quietly and disappear. That didn't work.

All I wanted was one man, but to get to him, I had to go through others. I was tired, drowning in this life. I was ready for this all to be over.

I had come to the end of the road, needing to choose a path. Left would lead me back into hiding, into pretending like I was an abandoned child, trying to find my way in a new world. But I went right, it was time for me to take control, and finish this shit once and for all.

I'm not going to spend my life running.

He deserves what's coming for him.

He stole everything from me.

I had already lost my family because of what I had allowed him to turn me into. The past few years were horrible and lonely. I was done living by their unspoken rules, done watching over my shoulder every second of every day, done wondering if I'd open my eyes to a barrel in my face before the world went silent.

Enough was enough.

Emery had gotten far too close for me to let her walk away. She saw my face, she knew I killed him. She feared me, I could see it in her eyes, in the way she looked at me.

But I didn't really give a shit what she thought about me, or the truth she thought she knew. She had bigger problems to worry about than me.

There were always eyes everywhere; observing, spying, learning, waiting.

I was tempted to tell her who I was, and what was going on, but I couldn't.

Emery wouldn't understand why. How could she?

Even I had a hard time still grasping the situation I was in. It wasn't fair for me to burden her with the shit storm my life had become. It was going to be hard as hell now to keep her from getting killed, and I couldn't make her any promises that she wouldn't end up dead.

No one's going to fucking touch her.

Her hair tickled my arm as she moaned, and turned her head against my chest. She really was a beautiful little vixen. Emery's hair was the color of gold, gleaming like metal under the sun as we passed beneath poorly lit street lamps. Her skin looked soft and dewy, cheeks slightly pink from the cold breeze.

Her legs bent up as she tried to snuggle deeper into my arms to stay warm, forcing her dress to slink higher up her thighs. The edge of the fabric danced with the crest of her mound, giving me little peeks of her pink panties hidden beneath.

Shifting her body, I gripped the hem with the tips of my fingers and tugged it back down. I didn't know why I did that for her. I had been seconds from fucking her brains out before everything turned to shit around us.

Decency was a void, caring was an empty bag that blew weightlessly around inside my gut. But for some reason, I felt for her.

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