Protect Me (Broken Heroes 2)

She gets down on her hands and knees beside my desk, searching for it. As if my cock wasn’t pressing uncomfortably against my zipper already.

Fuck this girl.

A second later, her head pops up and she places both the items in front of me, before pushing up from the floor. I’d love to see the look on her face when I tell her how much blood has been spilt on this floor.

“Why…why do you need my address?”

“Well, I need to send a cleanup crew out for one, and two I’ve got to figure out what the hell kind of shit your brother was into to get him killed.” She winces at the mention of her brother, but I don’t have the time or patience to tiptoe around her feelings. “Do you have a phone?”

“Y-yes.”

“Give it to me.”

She digs in her girly backpack and hands me the phone. I smash it on the floor, then step on it for good measure. I can’t have her calling people or taking pictures from inside my office. She stares up at me, but doesn’t say anything. Thank. Fucking. God.

“Stay here, don’t move, and don’t fucking touch anything.”

Getting up, my chair scoots back on the hardwood floor. Even that simple noise makes her flinch. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with her? Was she abused? Attacked?

I think back to the way I treated her a few minutes ago. Guilt pricks my conscience. Fuck me. At least she’s not like all the other women who only want to throw themselves at me.

Shaking my head, I make my way out of the room, closing the door behind me. I pull my key out of my pocket and lock the door.

Now that she’s here, she’s a liability. A loose end. And I can’t risk having her fuck up my entire life because she doesn’t understand how dark and dangerous world this is.

I find Toni in one of the back rooms and give him the address on the paper.

“Send a cleanup crew out there right now. If anyone gives you trouble, contact Shane.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He takes the paper and gets up from the leather couch. There we go—how it’s supposed to be. I make an order and shit gets done. No questions asked, no comments, or whimpering. Now, I need to figure out how I get the chick in my office to do the same.

I rub my jaw. It has been a while since Leo did work for me. I’d have to wait for the cleanup crew to get back to see who’s possibly responsible for this shit. Every gang has their own way of killing people. Some carry it out over hours, torturing, cutting, and destroying. Others simply place a gun to someone’s head and pull the trigger. From the look on Kiera’s face, I’m assuming it wasn’t a bullet wound her brother died from.

Jesus, I need a drink…and a blowjob.

Fuck babysitting.

I’m not keeping that girl.

No. Fucking. way.

Chapter 3

Kiera

Did he lock me in here?

I can’t get my stupid hands to stop shaking, or the rest of my body, for that matter. I don’t want to be here—in this room…or anywhere near Damon Rossi. I should’ve known coming here was a bad idea. Why the fuck would Leo send me to this guy? Better yet, what the hell had my brother been doing to get himself killed?

I ponder the thought for a long time, standing there, not wanting to sit. My eyes move to the wooden door holding me inside this room.

Even though I know he locked the door when he left, I still walk over to it and check. My fingers close around the cool brass knob. When I try to turn it, it’s no surprise that it’s locked.

I walk back to where I was standing before, my gaze moving to the couch. The couch where he pinned me down…

Shivers rack my body. I felt violated, terrified, but even so, the feeling of his hands on me was intoxicating—something I never want again.

I have no idea how long I’ve been in this room, but it feels like forever. Judging by the loud music and chatter outside the office door, the club must be open now. I consider banging on the door and yelling for help, but something tells me the people who come here and work for Damon wouldn’t do a damn thing to help me. If anything, they’d help him.

The longer I sit inside this room all alone, the more terrified of the unknown I become. When is he going to come back? What’s going to happen to me? Will he kill me? I remember the look in his brown eyes as he pressed the gun to my ribcage. There was no remorse…no kindness. My thoughts continue to run rampant, upping my anxiety. A key rattling and the sound of the door being unlocked drags me out of the abyss, and I stand.