To the Ends of the Earth (Stripped 5)

What had he done to earn this kind of money? “How many people have you killed?”

His chuckle is low, unoffended. “More than my share, but I earn most of my money through fights. Big money fights, sponsorships. And betting, when I’m not in the ring.”

“Oh. Then why do you—” I bite my lip, remembering it’s none of my business. Girls were slapped across the face for asking questions in Harmony Hills. Living on the run brought me out of my shell by necessity, but I can never forget the pecking order.

His eyes darken. “You can ask me anything, Beth.”

Already he has shown me more tolerance, more kindness than any man I’ve ever met. But his hands are huge, his arms bulging. His entire body weighs more than twice mine, hard packed and built to fight. If he ever decided to teach me a lesson, I wouldn’t survive it. “Okay.”

“Then why do I work for Ivan?” he asks, his voice droll.

I wring my hands together. “You don’t have to answer.”

“Technically you didn’t ask.” He nods toward one of the wide leather seats. “Did you see the name of the plane?”

“Pajarita,” I say, not knowing what it means.

His eyes darken. “Little bird. I named it after you.”

My heart thuds heavy in my chest. Something this huge, this luxurious—after me?

He gives me a small smile. “Do you want anything to drink?”

As soon as he mentions the word, my mouth feels parched. A desert. I take a seat, feeling out of place in the plush armchair. I shove my hands between my knees, holding myself tightly. Pajarita. “Water, please.”

He walks to the bar, a counter above where Delilah is blowing kitten-breath clouds on the mirror. He stirs around in the fridge before pulling out a clear bottle. He brings me back a glass.

“Thank you,” I whisper before taking a sip. Bubbles tickle my nose.

Even the water is different here.

He takes the seat across from mine, our knees almost touching when he reclines. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?” he asks, his voice mild.

My knuckles turn white as I clench the glass. I force myself to relax. “What do you mean?”

“You fought me tooth and nail when I took you from Harmony Hills. And you were ready to fight me again last night when we were alone in that shit hole—in your apartment. That’s the Beth I know, but this morning you’ve been the picture of obedience. Tell me what changed.”

When I fought him, I thought I could get away.

I thought I could keep Delilah safe on my own. I learned a long time ago never to rely on a man, never to trust him, never to believe that he wouldn’t hurt you if he got mad. And Luca is so big and so strong it would be even worse.

Then he found me at the Last Stop, saving me in my final moments. Which meant my brother would have found me eventually. No matter how careful I am, they always catch up.

I choose my words carefully, knowing I can’t risk insulting him. “I appreciate you helping me and Delilah. That’s all I can focus on, keeping her safe. And you’re helping me do that. Why would I fight you?”

Unless he wanted to hurt Delilah. I would turn into a lioness if he lai

d one of those large hands on her. I cringe, imagining the backhands I got when I was little. Those men hadn’t been half as big as him.

“They fucked you up good,” he says, his voice low enough that Delilah can’t hear.

I flinch. “It’s not a nice place.”

“And I’m not a nice man,” he says, as if acknowledging the conclusion.

“You’ve always been good to Delilah.” And that’s all that matters. That’s all that can matter now. My brother would hurt me, but he would take Delilah away. And that means that I choose Luca, even if he requires my body as payment.

He leans forward, touching two fingers to my knee. I’m wearing jeans, but the feel of him burns like a brand. “I liked the Beth who fought me. You look like you’re made of glass, so damn fragile a harsh wind could blow you over, but that’s not true. I saw it when you stood in that office holding a rifle as big as you were.”