The Kingpin's Weakness

I’m a collision of emotions. Anger over Easton leaving me. Relief over seeing him again. Indignation, sadness, frustration. Hot moisture floods my eyes and he sees it. Gulps. Whispers my name shakily. But there is no way I’m letting him see me cry. He doesn’t get to have a single part of me anymore. Not unless he takes all of me.

I snatch up my books and stomp toward the door.

At least six men scoot their chairs back and stand up, glancing at Easton, awaiting their boss’s signal. How many freaking people have been following me?

I don’t stop moving, even though I can feel Easton behind me.

Sense him following.

Is there a part of me that wants to be caught?

Is that why my breath shudders out when a hand closes around my elbow?

“Scout,” he says raggedly, turning me around to face him. “Don’t run from me.”

The tears give up the fight, trickling down my cheeks. “You ran from me.”

“And I made it less than twelve hours. I’m so fucked up, I can’t see straight.” He falls into me, his fingers raking up into my hair, tilting my face up so I’m looking up at his tortured features. My books tumble forgotten to the ground. “Please, I can’t do it. Take me back.”

“No. You didn’t even say goodbye,” I sob.

“I’m so sorry,” he rasps, brushing away my tears with his thumbs. “One of my rivals put a hit out on you, Scout. I was terrified. I am terrified you’ll never be safe with me.”

A weight drops in my belly. “A…hit? On me?”

“I took care of it, baby.” He presses our foreheads together. “I looked right in his eyes and ended him. In your name. No one threatens my girl and lives.” His lips touch mine and we both moan, an involuntary sound that comes from being close to the person who rules your senses, your body. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I was so worried you’d end up like them. My brother. My best friend. And I also knew if I told you I was leaving and you cried, I’d never go through with it. But Jesus, I’m dying without you. I’m fucking sick, Scout. Come back to me.”

Despite my frustration, I understand now. How he must have felt finding out someone wanted to kill me. This man has lost so much and carries the responsibility for that loss. Carries the guilt. Another loss—me this time—must have scared him into pushing me away. Still… “How can I come back to you? Be with you? You said it wasn’t possible.”

“I’ll make it possible,” he says passionately. “I’ll protect you. I’ll guard you like a treasure, because that’s what you are.”

“And if there’s another threat? You won’t disappear on me again?”

“Never. Never. If I have to form alliances all over the city, I’ll do it. I’ll approach my enemies and help make them rich, so they have reason to protect you as well. I’ll have ears and eyes in every corner of this town. You’ll be their goddamn queen, Scout, because they will know that everything of value to them will crumble if you’re harmed.” He lifts me off the ground, so my feet are dangling, his mouth pressing kisses all over my face. “Marry me. God, marry me.”

Happiness swims through all the pain and goes off like fireworks inside of me. Am I strong enough to be the wife of a gangster? Am I okay with being guarded like royalty for the rest of my life? Yes. And yes. What is the alternative? Knowing this man exists a matter of miles away and not being with him? I couldn’t stand it. Missing him would be a terminal ache.

“Yes,” I whisper, crossing my wrists behind his neck. “I’ll marry you, Easton.”

He makes a hoarse sound and bands his arms around me, crushing me to his chest. “Thank God. I’ve got you back. I love you, Scout. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” I laugh, my heart swelling painfully.

We stay like that for long minutes, Easton rocking me in the middle of campus while people watch from a safe distance, his ring of security standing alertly nearby. But little by little, our embrace begins to change. His hot breaths on my neck turn me warm and pliant…and his big palm moves down my back to rest on my backside. His shaft grows engorged between us, our hands turn greedy for touch. “Now,” he murmurs into my neck, his fingers biting into the flesh of my bottom. “There’s a little matter of you going on a date we need to…handle.”

“We do?” I whisper, trying not to squirm.

“Oh yes.” He carries me toward the parking lot, his security team surrounding us on all sides, hands poised inside their jackets. “Daddy didn’t like that.”

And his guards stay positioned around the SUV while Easton takes me roughly, loudly, thoroughly in the backseat, my knees shoved up near my ears, reminding me over and over again exactly who I belong to. Forever.