Page 9 of Together We Burn
“Stefany,” I whispered, pushing into the gun so our bodies were close enough to practically touch. “Who gave you this assignment? Who made me a target,yourtarget?” She worked on a swallow, shook her head, and then looked to the floor and back up at me.
“Stop it,” she murmured. “Stop lying.”
“You’ve been in the dark for too long, Stefany. I told you I would protect you; I promised.” I rubbed my thumb over her pulse point on her wrist again. “I got you out of there, Stefany. I'm the one who called Will.”
She pulled her arm out of my grasp and sidestepped me, darting across the room, creating a distance I knew I needed to close. I couldn’t afford to give her space, not now that she was here and listening to me.
“No, Will wouldn't have fabricated an assignment. Why would he set somebody he knew as a target?”
“We have an arrangement. You don't know how dangerous your mother is, but Will does,” I said, turning to face her. She huffed, pacing back and forth, stopping briefly by the window overlooking the city below. I swallowed and said the thing I should have told her from the moment I met her. “I work for him, Stefany.”
I tried to move toward her, but stopped when she raised her gun at me once again. I held my hands up disarmingly.
“You expect me to believe that bullshit?”
“Yes. No more secrets, just the truth.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “How do you even know Will? There was no link between you two when we did the research.”
She had resumed her pacing, murmuring to herself, and grabbing at the top of her bun. I could see she was shutting down. The life she thought was real had imploded around her, but I needed to make her understand.
“You once asked me how I intended to sell my synthetic drug if I ever succeeded.” A strange twinge pulled at my chest–guilt, maybe–as I chose my words carefully. “If I helped Will out with this, he’d agree to be my silent partner.”
She stopped moving. Like she was made of stone, rigid and unyielding. I walked toward her, the urge to touch her, to comfort her, to beg her to forgive me, driving my feet forward.
“Stefany, please. Let me fully explain.” Reaching out to grab her shoulders, she spun and punched me straight in the nose. A loud crack of bone echoed between my ears, and the warm burst of blood fell down my face and onto my white shirt.
“Son of a bitch,” I cursed, unbuttoning my shirt and using the ends to stem the flow. Groaning, I held it to my nose as Stevie’s eyes grazed down my chest while she rubbed her knuckles on the hand that had assaulted me.
“Okay, I deserved that,” I deadpanned once the bleeding had subsided enough not to need my shirt continuously shoved under my nose.
I heard a click as Stevie put the safety back on her gun and tucked it into the holster under her leather jacket. Her nose flared as she breathed heavily, but the hurt and pain that marred her face caused a renewed ache in my chest, worse than the throbbing in my face from my presumably broken nose.
Stepping forward once again, I tentatively reached for her arm. She didn't move away this time, and I stepped closer to her body with the scent of coconuts washing over me.
“Stefany,” I whispered and gently weaved my hand into her hair, pressing my fingertips into the back of her head just above her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds when she realised what she had done and tried to push from my hold.
“Don't,” she said in a voice so low I struggled to hear it. “Don't call me that.”
“Why?” I asked and pulled her closer, closing the gap so our bodies touched again. Her warmth spread through me, and my cock instantly hardened.
“Because the man who called me that made me feel like I was his. The man who called me that wasn't real.”
“Youaremine, Stefany,” I growled, then crashed my lips onto hers. My blood smeared over her mouth and chin, allowing us to taste a hint of metal. She fisted my open shirt in her hands and tugged me into her body. I groaned, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist as my tongue demanded entrance to her mouth. She moaned in what I thought was pleasure, but I knew I had pushed her too far when she swiftly shoved me away with a force that had me stumbling backward.
“No,” she said firmly, bringing one hand across her body, cupping her side as the other fiercely wiped the back of her hand across her lips.
Fuck. Her ribs.She’d have recovered enough, but they would still smart under pressure.
“You don't get to do that. Go back to fucking Emilia if you want someone to—”
“I never touched your disgusting whore of a mother,” I shouted, forgetting all about my remorse at accidentally hurting her again as I lunged forward and thrust my hand back into her hair to angle her face up so she could see the truth to my words. “And believe me, she fucking tried, sweetheart, but not once did I freely put my hands on her. That day, when she kissed me in that fucking room, she went off-script; I was just as shocked as you. And when you asked me if anything happened between us, I had to keep up appearances.”
I was nearly foaming at the mouth as I all but pleaded with her to believe me. She glared at me with her lip curling over her top teeth.Fuck, she looked so sexy when she was pissed.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I breathed in her scent, letting it calm me. “You were all I wanted back then—even when I knew it was wrong.” I paused before lowering my voice to a near whisper. “You’re still all I want.”
Releasing my hold on her hair, I dropped my hand to run my thumb over her bottom lip, relishing how her features softened at my touch. As quickly as she’d melted, though, she turned back into the ice queen, shoving her hands into my chest again, forcing me to let her go.
