Page 27 of Vow to Protect
Brett pulls his lower lip between his thumb and fingers, then stretches out his jaw. The rise and fall of his chest signals adrenaline, but the stern expression highlights despair. He angles away without saying a word. Marching to the pretty cakes, he bends over and swipes the innocent blade up from the floor. He doesn’t look to see if I’m quaking or scared. He rounds his shoulders and heads for the door.
“Brett?” I call out.
“Eat cake or don't eat cake. It's up to you,” he barks, before leaving me alone with a sugary picnic and two forks.
What the fuck was that?
I rattled a knife, and she turned into a hot mess.
My instincts switched from avoidance to nurture until I inhaled the scent of her honeyed skin. It was soap and sin and sex—and I need to keep my fucking deceitful dick at bay.
When I stepped into her frail body, begging for air, the idea of owning her nearly broke me. All of this could have been so simple, if I wasn’t so hung up on the green of her eyes, the regal dip of her throat, or the way she peers up at me like I’m the good guy. Good guys don’t crave pain over lust, they don't seek destruction to numb their problems.
I vowed to protect her, but if she lays one finger on me with the intention of something more—it will finally break me.
“Did you have a bad day, Daddy?” Tilly bounces on my knee, tugging my thoughts back to the present. She looks into my soul with those beautiful big eyes of hers, stripping back the pathetic mask I’m floating behind and pinpoints my genuine emotions. Our connection surpasses the realms of the ordinary.
I ruffle her corkscrew curls. “I had a good day, Shortie,” I lie, mainly to myself, not to her, because in the grand scheme of days, this day was better than most. I kept my cool. I didn't have a drink. I kept my dick in check.
My temper wanes when she grins at me, all teeth, except for one big toothless gap on her top set. Champ trots into the room with floppy ears and searching eyes. He’s sniffed me out too.
“Hey, boy.” Gigantic paws land on my thigh. “Are you ready for Tilly’s big birthday party?”
“He wants his own cake, Daddy. Can we get a cake for him too?” she asks.
Cakes. Fucking cakes. “Sure thing. I’ll look it up on the internet. If you can buy dog jumpers, then you must be able to buy dog food cakes. And that reminds me,” I add. “You’re going to the spa this week, Champ.”
His tail wags, and Tilly kisses his black nose. “Daddy is the best, isn’t he? You’ll smell pretty, and they’ll snip your nails.” She giggles when the dog licks her chin.
“How about I take Champ out for a walk?” As soon as I say the last word, the dog barks in agreement. “Looks like someone needs to go out.”
Tilly slides off my knee. “I think he needs to pee-pee.”
“I’ll take him for a jog with me.” Tilly trots off to get his lead while I go to my bedroom to get changed.
I unbutton my shirt and assess my physique. The gruelling training has paid off, and my washboard abs are back on track, if not leaner than before. Black and blue splashes of colour compete with swarthy skin. These are a few days old, tinged with a hint of yellow at the edges. I consider bailing on the run and heading straight to the club to lash out at the next prizefighter, but the dog needs exercise, and my body needs a rest.
A small black box sits on my dresser, catching my eye in the reflection. To think I planned a future with Syrah. Foolish bastard. I swivel around and snatch the box, refraining from opening the lid. The diamond cluster ring inside holds no purpose now. It’s a reminder of what could have been, what was taken away and will never be. I toss it to the back of the closet, slide on a t-shirt and switch out my pants for joggers.
* * *
As I run, my life projects around me like a movie. My privileged upbringing with housekeepers, cleaners, cars, parties, women and sex. How the hell did everything slip off course?
Before heading back, I stop off at the corner shop a few streets away to buy bottled water for Champ and I to share. While I’m in the store, I decide to gather up a few essential items for Raen. That way I won’t have to see her as often. She’ll need a proper dinner later and breakfast in the morning.
I toss a packet of pancakes, maple syrup, box of cereal, carton of milk and a mango into the basket alongside water. She’s only staying for a couple of days. Take outs and snacks will do until I release her into the wild. I don’t know why my mind travels down the twisted path of keeping her under lock and key. That sort of shady behaviour is just as cruel as buying a woman for a million euros, yet the crazy idea doesn’t pass me by. I’m not that asshole—even if it meant she would always be safe.
I promised to set her free. It’s not like I’ll allow her to touch me. She tried that once, and I bet she doesn’t do it again. Christsake, I should get laid and get it over with before I do something stupid.
The pavement is damp after a burst of rainfall, and the late afternoon breeze refreshes my face. Riding the elevator is a normal occurrence, but getting out early on a different floor makes me edgy. I let myself in to the apartment and shout out her name.
Silence.
The world stills. It’s perfectly peaceful, as if no one is staying here. Deathly silent, as it was before I carried her over the threshold and tucked her up in bed. I unclip Champ’s leash and watch him scamper to the spot where I’d spread the cakes out on the floor earlier.
There aren’t any cakes.
So where are they—where is she? I toss the leash on the couch and flip off my cap, aligning them side by side for a quick getaway. My skin tingles in the nectarine shadows peeking in from the late afternoon sunset.
