Gentleman Sinner

A few worrying seconds pass as I hold my breath, silently willing Theo to listen to Callum, before he eventually pulls the gun from Percy’s son’s forehead and lowers it to his side. But he still has him nailed to the wall with his spare hand, though he must have lessened his grip a little, because his prisoner starts gasping.

Air floods my lungs, too, and I look to Callum. He gives me a knowing nod, moving in with his hands held up, showing them to Theo. Only when Theo turns his eyes on his friend does Callum claim the man from his clutches, pulling him away and shoving him along the pavement, back towards the main entrance of the hospital. I watch as Callum releases Percy’s son at the corner and straightens himself out, turning to face us. He doesn’t come back over. Just waits on the corner.

I literally collapse with relief, falling against the wall, concentrating on regulating my shaky breaths. Tiredness has abandoned me, being replaced with shock. I’m caught between utter appreciation for Theo being here to protect me, something I’ve wished for my whole life, and absolute panic, not only because he seemed so out of control, the violence in him deadly, but because there is nothing to stop Percy’s son from reporting me and my . . . what is Theo to me?

My thoughts frazzle as I gaze up at him, finding him looking composed and clear-eyed. Like the insanity switch has been flipped off. The madman has gone. I want to be angry. I don’t want to wish he’d been around before now. Someone to protect me. Someone to threaten death on anyone who tried to hurt me. But I’ve seen enough violence to last me a lifetime. And in Theo, violence is clearly an instinct.

Emotion is creeping its way up my throat, and I swallow to try to keep it at bay. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask mindlessly, with a lack of anything else coming to me, my voice a little ragged and broken.

Theo shakes his head to himself, his hand sliding on to his nape and stroking. ‘Shit.’ His voice is a little shaky. In fact, he looks shaken up, too. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .’ He glances behind him, blowing out a long breath. ‘I didn’t want you to see that.’

‘I didn’t want to see it, either,’ I tell him, and he looks at me, trying to read me. ‘I don’t like violence.’

‘He was going to hurt you.’

‘It hurt more watching you behave like an animal.’

Theo stares at me, and I don’t look away. I remain resolute, steady, firm in my position, despite knowing he’s trying to read between the lines. All of my barriers are up, and he won’t get past them. And he must realize that, because he eventually relents, closing his eyes and looking up to the nighttime sky for a few moments before extending his hands towards me. ‘Please,’ he begs, and I walk towards him, his plea too hard to resist. I take his hands and let him feel for a few moments, his eyes dropping to mine. ‘My temper . . .’ He fades off, swallowing hard. ‘It gets the better of me sometimes.’

‘Then don’t let it.’ My tone is equal to his, soft and pleading. ‘I don’t want to see you like that, Theo.’

He nods, shame clear in his solemn expression. ‘I’m sorry.’ Pulling me into his chest, he lifts me to his body, and I go with ease. Because what else will I do? Reject him? ‘You feel so good against me,’ he whispers, pushing his face into my neck and inhaling, his bristle scratchy but comforting.

I silently agree and let him carry me back to the car, and I only release him once we arrive. Callum holds the door open for me, his lips straight as he nods sharply at me. And I wonder, how many times has he been forced to hold back his friend from doing some serious damage to anyone who might cross him? Or simply touch him? Lots, I expect.

And as Theo joins me in the back, claiming me and pulling me close, my mind starts to race. Has Callum ever been too late to stop him?Chapter 13

We stopped briefly at my place to collect some clean clothes and my toiletries, and while I gathered my things, Theo mooched around my bedroom, sniffing out the cuffs he bought me on my nightstand and winking as he scooped them up and slipped them into his pocket. I didn’t stop him.

As Callum takes us back to Theo’s, I pay more attention to the drive this time, noting we head towards North London, our journey taking more than an hour with the rush hour traffic. By the time we pull up, it’s pitch black and Theo’s mansion is illuminated by hundreds of scattered lights around the property. The ornate lampposts lining the long driveway guide the way until we pull up through the thick carved concrete pillars.