Scarred Regrets (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 5)

19

SCAR

My fists clenched the moment the fucker arrived at Irina’s apartment. Watching her answer the door in the skimpy clothes, which no one else should have been allowed to see her in, had been enough to drive me mad.

Then she’d batted her pretty black eyelashes up at him like the wings of a butterfly, letting him move closer to her. Letting him touch her, and feel her skin against his fingertips.

The moment she’d stretched up to kiss him had been the moment I’d broken. The moment I realized that Irina seemed determined to be reckless with men who didn’t deserve her.

I watched from the cameras I’d installed for her safety while she’d been at work, giving me an excuse to watch her from afar and try to alleviate the need to be there. The more distance between us, the better off she’d be, but that didn’t mean that I could quit the stalking I’d taken to, either.

Someone had to protect her. It seemed like that someone had to be me.

In the moments before her lips touched his, I’d watched his face change. Watched the predator hidden underneath his neat and tidy appearance come out as he realized he’d finally cornered the prey he so wanted for himself.

The prey he wanted enough to play the long game, waiting patiently for her to step into his trap. I had no doubt that Irina believed Grant Dumas was a good man, with his donating to her charity to feed into the illusion he’d painted for her benefit.

But he had a long, sordid history with the seedy underground in London and Paris. It was how Irina’s father and his father had met one another, all those years ago.

He wasn’t a man worthy of Irina any more than I was, no matter how he might have felt about her.

I shoved away the desire to interrupt their moment, to make my way into the city to stop her from making what I knew would be a terrible mistake. Even if I couldn’t have her, that didn’t mean a man like Grant should be allowed to tarnish her with his stain, either.

She was everything that was light in the world. I’d do anything to keep her that way.

Even if she hated me for it.

Grant was the one to end their kiss, not my butterfly out of some sense of loyalty, but even from my strategically placed cameras, I could see the confusion on her face. I knew damn well that thoughts of me had driven her to the point of desperation, seeking what I couldn’t give her from someone who could.

I watched them go through the rest of their evening, his arm wrapped around her as if it belonged there as they ate their takeout and watched romantic comedies to keep Irina distracted from the anniversary of her mother’s disappearance.

They shared a history that I could never compete with.

But I’d be dead before I ever allowed him to have her.

* * *

Iwaited until Irina’s eyes had started to turn sleepy before I got into my SUV and made my way to her apartment. I watched from the shadows as he emerged from the front door of her building, walking to the Lexus he’d parked in one of the guest spaces at the front of the lot.

I followed him as he drove off, heading to the hotel room he’d call home during his visit to Chicago. It wasn’t far from Irina’s apartment, not when his primary goal in visiting was spending time with the woman he wanted for himself.

He pulled into the parking garage as I followed, parking two spots down from him and getting out of the car quickly. His eyes landed on me the moment he climbed out of the Lexus, drifting up and down my body as if he could size me up.

“You’re Irina’s friend?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow as if he could pretend he didn’t know exactly who I was. He’d met me only the day before, and men my size weren’t exactly easy to forget.

“I wouldn’t call us friends, but I’m the man who fucked her on her pretty sofa last night,” I said, watching as he flinched back from the vulgar statement.

“Didn’t seem to mean too much to her then,” he said, brushing it off even though I already knew it had struck him right where I intended. Tonight had been her rebound.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

“You think you were anything other than her attempt to feel something for a night? I see it all over you. You think you have a future with her, but you don’t.”

“Why’s that? Because she’s yours?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You aren’t the first guy I’ve watched her have a relationship with. You may not even be the last. But the one thing they all have in common with you? Eventually, you’ll be nothing to her, and I’ll still be right here at her side.”

“How’s that working out for you?” I asked.

“Considering she’d have let me take her to bed tonight, if I’d been willing to use her the way you probably did? I’d say it’s going pretty well.”

My fists clenched at my sides, the irrational need to justify myself to him making me angry. My life, my needs, were none of his business. “She’s too good for you,” I said instead.

“She’s too good for anyone, but that won’t stop me from making her mine when she’s ready to come home to me, finally,” Grant said, shrugging his shoulders as he made to walk past me.

“Stay the fuck away from Irina,” I ordered, snatching him by the arm as he made for the hotel.

He froze, staring down at my grip on his arm before he raised his eyes to mine. “I’ve been a part of her life for as long as I can remember. If you want to remove me from her side, it will take a lot more than some passive threats.”

I’d really fucking hoped to avoid throttling him. I’d really hoped not to make it obvious to Irina what I’d done.

All that went up in smoke when he refused to stay away from her. If I could give her nothing else, I could give her my protection from other men like me.

I struck before it was even a conscious choice, my fist colliding with his cheekbone so hard that his body jerked away from me. I didn’t give him the time to recover, driving into his stomach with a second fist and following it up with another jab to his nose.

It broke beneath my punch, blood spurting and covering the dark gray of his jacket. I swept his legs out from underneath him, watching him slam down onto the concrete as the breath was forced from his lungs.

I pressed the bottom of my shoe to his cheek, pinning him still as he glared up at me. If I’d been a better man, I’d have let him fight, so our positions could feel even and less like an assault. But I wasn’t a good man, and I wanted him to know what I would do for her.

His life depended on it.

“Stay the fuck away from my butterfly,” I ordered, pressing down more firmly on his face. He winced, and I turned back for my SUV before he could respond.

He was forcing himself to his feet when I peeled out of the parking garage, hoping he stayed the fuck away.

But looking forward to the fight with Irina if he didn’t.