Hell (Black Heart Romance)

“I’m sorry, boss, but she says she can’t. She won’t even open the door for me.”

My free hand clenches into a fist which I slam against the desk. I’ve waited long enough, and she has the nerve to make me wait longer. I was too easy on her the last time, treating her the way I did. I gave her the idea she has a say in this arrangement.

That will have to be rectified.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t leave her door. If she doesn’t want to come out, I’ll have to go in—so make sure she stays in there until I show.” I end the call, already halfway down the stairs, my irritation rising with every step.

I’m a busy man. She knows this. Does she think this is some sort of game? Was I not clear enough in my instructions? When I want her, she’s available to me. It isn’t difficult.

Now, I have to take time out of my day to fetch her, like she’s a goddamn queen. I wonder if I should’ve included an engraved invitation for Rick to slide under her door. Perhaps a red carpet for her to walk over on her way to the car.

I fire off the address to another one of my drivers, one I don’t trust as much as I do Rick. To think he’s not able to get her out of her apartment. I shudder to think what a clusterfuck any of my less-experienced men would turn this into. At least he had the presence of mind to call me rather than trying to force her out and inspiring a neighbor to call the police.

It takes all of eight minutes to reach her building. I spot one of our SUVs out front, telling me Rick stayed put as instructed. No cop cars, so the situation hasn’t escalated.

Good thing, since I’d have to take any hush money paid to the cops out of the amount I already paid her. Better yet, I would tack the amount onto her debt, maybe get an extra encounter out of it. The idea doesn’t exactly piss me off—in fact, my cock starts to stir at the thought—but I dismiss it as I step onto the sidewalk. It wouldn’t be worth the hassle.

Rick stands up straighter when I reach her door, shrugging his thick shoulders in a helpless gesture. “Like I said, she’s in there, but she ain’t coming out.”

Maybe for him. “Thank you, Rick. You can wait out by the car.” He’s not a smart man, but he knows better than to stick around.

I knock hard on the door. “Rowan. It’s Lucian. Open the door.”

She must’ve been waiting on the other side, her voice louder than I expected. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

What is it about her voice? Or is it the way she’s enunciating? Either way, she sounds slightly off. “Are you ill? What’s this about?”

“I just can’t, is all. I’m sorry. Give me a few days, please.”

She’s lisping. I don’t know what it means, only that her stubbornness is pissing me off worse than ever. Not to mention the fact that she won’t let me see her. Either she’s hiding something or…

What if she has a man in there with her?

My blood starts boiling. “Either open the door, or I’ll kick it in. Your choice. One… two…”

The lock clicks, but she takes her time to open up. I discover her one bit at a time: bruises around her eyes, a swollen nose, split lips. No wonder she can’t speak clearly.

“Who did this to you?” I can barely whisper, but even that makes her flinch. I fully realize how dangerous I sound right now, just as I know there’s no hope of making myself sound any other way. Somebody beat the shit out of her.

Somebody beat the shit out of what’s mine. Nobody touches what belongs to me.

I step into the apartment rather than have this conversation out in the hall, careful to close the door behind me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

She lowers her head, letting her hair fall across her battered face. “It’s nothing.”

I bark out a laugh, making her flinch again. “Don’t waste your breath on that shit. This is nothing? You look like somebody used your face for a punching bag. Who did it? Where are they?”

She backs away, eyes as wide as she can get them. He didn’t strike her directly in them—it was a man, it had to be—but the swelling of her cheeks gives the illusion of them being swollen. “Please, let it go. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Stop wasting my fucking time, Rowan. I’m going to get answers out of you. Either you can provide them without upsetting me any further or you can continue to test my patience until it shatters. Your choice.”

Her chin trembles. Only now do I notice the bruising around her throat, too. I’ll kill the motherfucker who did this if it’s the last thing I ever do. “It’s… he’s…” She raises one hand, covering her face, and now her shoulders shake as she begins weeping.