Falling for the Killer

I made some tea and she came down not long later. She accepted it and drank, frowning down at the cup in her hand. We stood in the kitchen together and I looked at her puffy red eyes and her pink lips and wondered how the fuck a guy like Stuart could ever get near a girl like Ash.

And I knew the answer, of course. Stuart was rich and had the right name. His family was connected and wealthy, and the sort of man that Ash was supposed to marry.

I was the sort of man she was supposed to stay far away from.

“Thank you for what you did,” she said softly, staring into her cup.

“No problem,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” she said, then looked up at me. “What were you doing at my house?”

“I came to talk to you,” I said. “Your brother wouldn’t let me in.”

She smiled a little bit and her eyes roamed down along my clothes then back up to my lips. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “He probably thought you were there to rob us.”

I grunted and tugged at my shirt. It was a decent button-down, nothing special. “In the normal world, I look like a regular guy, you know.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, grinning. “It’s not really your clothes. It’s the way you hold yourself. It’s the way you look.”

“Can’t help it that I’m dangerous and beautiful.”

“Exactly.” She tilted her head and laughed. “God, the look on Stuart’s face right before you hit him was amazing.”

“I preferred the look on his face right after I hit him,” I said, rubbing my knuckles. They were split from where they’d smashed into Stuart’s teeth. “If we’re lucky, he’ll need some serious dental surgery.”

“Oh, god,” she said, and started laughing. She laughed so hard she spilled some tea, then laughed more as she cleaned it up with a paper towel. She sat at the kitchen table and leaned forward on her elbows as her laughter died down and she groaned, lowering her face down onto the tabletop. “What the hell am I going to do?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, sitting down across from her.

“I have nothing,” she said, looking up. “No clothes, nothing. I don’t even have a phone charger.”

“I can get whatever you need.”

“I can’t ask that from you,” she said quickly. “Gian, I know you got me pregnant, but we don’t know each other. You don’t have to do any of this.”

“I know,” I said, staring at her with an intensity I’d never felt before. That was the mother of my child, and I had the sudden urge to protect her with everything I could. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her if I could avoid it.

“So then why were you at my house?” she asked, almost pleading with me.

“I came to tell you that I’m going to be in your life,” I said softly and leaned closer to her. “I’m not saying we’ll get married and settle down. But that baby’s mine, planned or not, and I’m going to help raise it. I couldn’t let you go off with a guy like fucking Stuart and cut me out.”

She smiled a little. “You think I’d do that?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We don’t know each other, remember?”

“Yeah,” she said and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “God, this is all messed up.”

“I know, but you’re here now. We’ll figure out what to do and go from there. You don’t have to rush.”

She nodded and drummed her fingers. “My family keeps calling me. I should probably talk to them.”

“Do you want me to be there while you do it?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “That’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m sure you’re busy doing… whatever it is you do.”

“Selling drugs and killing people,” I said without smiling.

She grimaced. “I hope you’re joking.”

“Only a little bit.” I stood up and walked toward the living room. “Tomorrow you can go shopping for whatever you need. Don’t worry about money.”

“I can’t ask that from you,” she said. “You’re doing too much.”

“You’re carrying my baby,” I said, looking back at her. “It’s the least I can do.”

“I’m supposed to be the rich one, remember?” She shook her head. “What good is a trust fund if I can’t touch it?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said, and didn’t add that I doubted she’d have a trust fund much longer. Her parents seemed like the kind of people that would cut her off at the first hint of trouble.

And I was definitely trouble.

She sighed and banged her head gently against the table. I leaned against the wall and watched her carefully as she gathered herself again and smiled at me.

“Sorry for being such a mess,” she said.

“Stop apologizing,” I said. “I’m not the kind of person to take someone in out of obligation. I want you here. I want my baby here.”