Saving Lawson (Loving Lawson 2)

Silence.

His movements slowed and his dark eyes finally looked up at me. I tried to keep my composure, tried to look him straight in those eyes, and I surprised myself by holding it together long enough.

“You been stalking me, kid?” he growled out. “Likin’ what you see or something?”

“No.”

“Thought you could impress me enough to make me want you on my side or some shit?”

“No.”

“Then the fuck do you want?”

“I want to fight.”

His dark brows shot up. “You want to fight me?”

My heart rate spiked as I rapidly retorted, “No! Not you. I want you to teach me how to fight. You’re… you’re a better fighter than the one person I ever thought fought the best.”

Heath. He fought better than Heath ever did.

“What’re you planning on doing with those skills?” he asked, humouring himself by keeping this conversation going.

“Protect myself,” I answered. “And kill someone when I get out of here.”

He finished peeling the apple. He threw it down on his tray and crossed his arms as he looked up at me. He looked intrigued, but that humour was still dancing in those scary eyes.

“You want to kill someone when you get out of here,” he repeated slowly, stifling a laugh. “Who are you after? The fucker that put you here, I’m guessing?”

“No,” I shot back. “I deserve to be here.”

Not for the actual crime I got put away for, mind you, because I’d picked up money just as the police had come by. It was obvious someone had tipped them off, and how ironic it was I had done something I never did before and got caught for it.

Someone sold me out.

“Then who do you want to kill?” Reaper asked, pulling me away from my reveries.

“My brother.”

His face lit up and he barked out a deep laugh. “Your brother? Shit, man, the fuck did that poor cunt do to you?”

“He took my woman.”

Another moment of silence.

This time Reaper looked at me differently. Something passed in those eyes. Some kind of understanding, and I was happy to see the humour gone entirely.

“He took your woman?”

“Yeah, my woman.”

He scoffed. “You sure she didn’t want to be taken?”

I gritted my teeth and didn’t reply. My chest felt heavy with pain and anger. The one thing that had kept me going had been torn from me, and I was too livid to think straight.

“You fuckin’ pussy,” he then said, chuckling deep in his chest as he shook his head. “Going out there and killin’ him isn’t going to change things. She won’t take you back.”

“I already know that.”

“And you still wanna kill the guy?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you were weak enough to love some chick that clearly didn’t return your love?”

“Yeah,” I forced out, because truth was the best route in this fucked up situation. “And loving someone doesn’t make you weak.”

For the first time since I saw him here, I think I had him speechless. He just stared at me for the longest time, his brain working hard as he trailed his eyes up and down my body. I wasn’t big, and he was checking that out. He probably saw nothing but a shrimp in front of him, but if he could stare into my eyes long enough, he’d see the fire in them. The same fire that burned in his own.

“I can teach you how to fight,” he finally said thoughtfully. “But I ain’t protecting you from shit. You get jumped or fucked, that’s not on me. You don’t get any special treatment, either. You’re not my friend. You’ll never be my friend. You’re nothing but a hobby for me to pass my time ‘til I get outta here in twelve months. If you piss me off, I’ll break your legs. If you betray me in any way, I’ll snap your head off that pretty boy neck of yours. And on that note, we’re gonna be doing something about your pretty boy looks too, because I fucking hate pretty boys. They piss me off. Understand?”

Too whiplashed to answer, I managed a nod.

“Good. Now get the fuck outta my face.”

Two

Allie

Stretchmarks.

Everywhere.

I lifted up my night gown higher and took in the thick, deep lines. My fingertips brushed over every one of them as I stared into the mirror. They stood out against my skin, no way of hiding or reducing them without it looking overly obvious. My body was forever changed.

With a sigh, I let go of my night gown. Staring at my new self was going to take some getting used to. The more I saw my reflection, the more I wanted to hide away. But hiding away tonight wasn’t an option. It was week six. Green light, the doctor had said, and Heath’s eyes never shined so bright.

Upon hearing the sound of the front door open and shut, I double checked my legs and ran my hands under each armpit, making sure I was completely hairless. Admittedly, I’d slacked off in that area for some weeks. Before my ultimate shave, I was borderline Alpaca.

I combed my fingers through my hair and ruffled up the back of it in a pathetic attempt to give it some volume. Then I opened the door and walked out. He was already in the bedroom, setting the bag from the shops down on the night table before removing his jacket. As usual, he looked rugged and rough around the edges. It didn’t help that he’d just had a fight and his hair was tousled and his hands were still wrapped in boxing tape. While I’d obsessed just seconds ago at my appearance, I couldn’t remember the last time he looked at his reflection. Lucky ass didn’t even need to. He looked the same all the time. It was unfair, really, to look this good and not have to try.

When he turned around and met my gaze, those brown eyes instantly lit up. That smirk I fell in love with formed as he eyed me up and down.

“I’m liking the length of that gown,” he remarked, licking his bottom lip slowly.

It was a loose, white satin night gown that ended dangerously close to my nether regions. He’d bought me it from some high up lingerie shop before I’d ballooned into a whale. Now that I wasn’t the size of a house anymore, I finally gathered the courage to try it on. It hid the lumps and bumps in all the right places, so I was feeling pretty good.

“You gonna get that fine ass over here or what?”

Smiling, I stalled and said, “Tell me about the fight.”