His Ballerina

“This is just the start, baby. You’d better get used to living like this.”

She only snickers. “Every day can’t be like this.”

“Why not?” We stop short of the doors, and I turn to her. “You’re staying with me now. Forever. Why wouldn’t I treat you like a queen every day?”

“You can’t mean that.” Her voice is soft, like she’s talking to somebody she wants to let down easily. Or somebody in the grip of a delusion.

“I do.” I take a step closer to her, inhaling her scent, memorizing every line of her precious face. “I’m not letting you go. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

She will. I’ll make sure she does if it takes every day of the rest of my life. Making her as happy as she’s been today is my life’s purpose, plain and simple. Nobody has ever deserved it more.

11

Madison

If it wasn’t for the weight of the heavy bags in my hands and over my shoulder, I’d swear today has been a dream. The best dream. The sort of dream a girl has when she’s lying in bed at night, alone in a cold, bare room. Or when she’s on her way from one back-breaking job to another.

A shopping spree. Everything I could ever want, everything I could ever need. Even things I don’t technically need but the girl at the makeup store talked me into.

Granted, she didn’t have to try too hard.

“You happy?” Archer grins as he raises the back of the SUV to load the bags behind the seats.

“What do you think?” I’ve never been happier than I am right now. He’s making my dreams come true, one after another. I’m almost afraid to believe I don’t have to go to the diner anymore, that I don’t have to clean the gym bathrooms and stock countless shelves with boxes and cans. I don’t have to force a smile when a customer gets handsy or asks too many personal questions.

No more exhaustion. No more scrambling around, trying to make ends meet, skipping meals because I can’t afford to eat.

“I have to admit something.” I wait until he lowers the door, locking my treasures inside. “This is all happening so fast, so it’s not easy to get used to it all at once. It has nothing to do with not believing you. It’s just that…”

He steps closer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes smolder when they meet mine, staring deep. “It’s just that you’ve spent so long telling yourself you can’t have even the basics that this is a lot to absorb at once.”

“It has nothing to do with you. I want to make sure you know that.”

He tips my head back and lowers his until our mouths are almost touching. “You never have to worry again. I’ll make sure of it. And you’ll get used to being safe and taken care of. I promise you that, too.”

His kiss is everything I dreamed a kiss would be. Deep, slow, like he’s exploring me while taking possession of me. Of my lips, my tongue. Consuming me. And all I can do is lean in, silently asking for more while heat unspools between my thighs and leaves wetness behind. All it takes is this, and I’m ready for him, wishing we were at his place or at least in the car where he could…

His head jerks up, the kiss ending suddenly enough to make me gasp. When my eyes open, the first thing I see is his snarl. Cold, vicious, terrifying. What did I do?

Instinct makes me fall back a step because I’m not sure I want to be near him when he looks that way. Like he’s ready to kill somebody.

His mouth opens like he’s ready to scream, and I realize he’s looking past me—behind me. I start to turn, wanting to see what’s wrong, what made him change that way.

“No!”

The strange, almost slow-motion sensation pops like a balloon when Archer bellows out that single word. All I manage to get a look at out of the corner of my eye is a pair of men dressed in black.

And one of them is holding something shiny, something the late afternoon sunlight glints off of.

Archer moves fast, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me closer to the car while throwing himself in front of me. I don’t understand what’s happening, what to do, or why he’s acting this way.

Until I hear the loud pop.

Until Archer flinches and falls back against me, pinning me between him and the SUV.

By the time I realize he’s been shot, he’s reaching into his waistband and pulling out his own gun. He’s firing on the men. Once. Twice.

People are screaming, running for cover, ducking behind their cars while I hide behind Archer. There’s no more shooting. My ears are ringing, my heart’s pounding out of my chest, and I’m about two seconds away from throwing up.