Read Dark Savior: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Online
Authors: Stella Noir
Dark Savior: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (34 page)
But Nike nods.
“So, you have no intention of killing me anymore?” she wants to know.
I shake my head. “No, that would mean I’d lose you. And if you heard what I said to Christian, you know that’s something I don’t want.”
I look at her. “I want you. I want you in my life. Close.”
Her face is unreadable, pale, with dried up tears that messed up her subtle makeup.
“I want that, too,” she whispers. “That’s why I didn’t tell them. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You are insane,” I say.
“Maybe,” she agrees. “But so are you.”
She gets up from her chair and fills the glass with some more water.
“Besides,” she says as she brings the straw close to my mouth again. “It was kind of satisfying. Knocking that guy out. I felt so strong and powerful. Like a lioness.”
I chuckle and almost choke on the water.
“There will be no more of that, though,” I say after she retrieved the straw. “No more violence. No more shootings.”
She shrugs. “Yes, I think I’d prefer that, too.”
“However, Christian might repeat what he said,” I argue. “He will say it again and again, sober and well aware. They will start to believe him then.”
“Maybe,” she admits. “But if what you told me is true—wouldn’t he get himself in trouble as well? I mean, how does he know about all that mobster stuff, if he wasn’t involved in it himself? They would get him for that, too. Years and years of helping those guys to hide in his place? He helped to cover up tons of crimes. Murders, too! He’d be in a lot more trouble then. If he just sticks to this one argument with you, saying that he snapped under the influence, he could get away easy.”
She may be right about that. I just wonder if Christian sees it the same way. It’s not like his recent behavior suggests that he can deal with these things reasonably.
“I have to go,” Nike announces. She puts the glass back on the table. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Tell me one more thing,” I demand.
“Yes?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.
“What tipped you off?” I ask. “Where did that sudden realization come from?”
“The song,” she says. “You whistled a song just before you shot the guy—and then you whistled the exact same song yesterday after we had sex.”
I look at her, opening my mouth with disbelief. “I did?”
“Yes,” she says, sounding surprised. “You don’t remember?”
“Not really,” I admit.
She leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek, something she has never done before.
“It’s very distinctive,” she says. “One day you’ll have to tell me what song that is.”
I nod. “One day.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nike / Epilogue
I tried to get away from this darkness. Drug dealers, murderers, the scary part of this town. The scary part of life. I grew up in a dump surrounded by all of this.
Just like Mars, I worked my way out of it, but unlike him I didn’t crawl out of this misery by doing atrocious deeds. There was very little my parents could and would do to help me achieve a better life, but at least they weren’t destructive.
I worked my way out by being the good girl, the diligent girl who worked hard, who earned a scholarship and fled to college. I made it, even though I had trouble letting go of my past.
And now I fell in love with a hitman. A murderer.
I couldn’t help it. Apparently, that darkness from my upbringing never let go of me. I cannot deny that his past is part of the insane attraction I feel for this man. In a way, it makes me feel more connected to him, especially considering the little run-in we had with this Christian guy. Mars is wounded, dark and troubled—and he wanted out. He may have chosen the wrong path at a young age, but he has worked hard to become the good man he is today.
We were lucky. Christian came to his senses and realized that the smartest thing for him to do would be to shut his mouth about that whole mobster connection between him and Mars. He got away with criminal assault and won’t lose his business or his life over all of this. Getting Mars arrested—especially after he spared Christian in a situation where he could have easily killed him—and having to reveal his own relation with the mob would have made things worse for himself. A lot worse.
He is locked away, but not for long. I don’t know how I feel about him getting out eventually. He might threaten us again.
But what I do know is that I am in safe hands with Mars. His past may be rotten, but he is living straight now. I feel safe with him.
Mars is sitting next to me, his strong arm around my shoulder, as we scan the city below us. The view that unfolds in front of our eyes is a lot more beautiful than the ones I have been used to before. We picked a different rooftop. A new one, for a fresh start.
“So,” he says, squeezing me lovingly. “What is with you and rooftops? You never told me what that is all about?”
I sigh. I have postponed having to answer this question again and again. It has been more than three months since our encounter with Christian and Mars worked hard in earning my trust during those weeks.
I guess it is time to reciprocate.
“They make me feel safe,” I begin. “Which is why it’s such an irony that I had to witness…
that
, that night.”
“You have no idea how sorry I am for that,” he says. “I wish for nothing more than for you to be left out of this.”
He pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath.
“We could have started like a normal couple, meeting a week later,” he continues. “You stumbling into me with that cute, nervous smile on your face.”
“Making a fool of myself,” I add.
“You were adorable,” he says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “But I want to know more. Rooftops make you feel safe? From what?”
I shrug. “Life in general, I assume.”
“Elaborate.”
“Well, I grew up in that neighborhood, where… you know.”
“Yes,” he says, nodding so I don’t have to actually vocalize it.
“It’s a gruesome area to grow up in. I hated it so much,” I say. “It was loud and dangerous and our little apartment was crowded and dirty. I had no room of my own, no safe and quiet place that I could escape to—except for the rooftop. I could be by myself and safe from all the trouble that was going on downstairs.”
“I see,” he says. “But what did you do up there?”
“Everything,” I say. “A lot of reading. And my homework. I wanted to do good in school so I could get out of that shit hole. The rooftop was the only place where I could find the peaceful and quiet environment I needed.”
He chuckles. “What a good girl.”
“Don’t tease me!” I complain. “It worked out fine, didn’t it?”
I look up at him, casting him a playful frown.
He responds with a warm smile. “Yes, it did.”
I move closer and straighten up to kiss him, but he is faster than me. He puts one hand at the back of my head while the other arm holds me in a tight embrace, pushing me closer to him. Our lips meet, shyly getting a taste of each other before our kiss demands for more. Mars wants me, and he is not shy to show it. His tongue claims mine with relentless need, and the sheer desire with which he takes me causes me to let out a faint moan in between our sensual kiss.
When he lets go of me, we’re both breathing heavily, our bodies heaving with lust and desire for more.
“You know what you should do,” he whispers.
I tilt my head to the side, looking up at him quizzically. “What?”
“I think you should write a book about this,” he says. “It doesn’t matter if it’s just for practice or for finding closure with all of this. I’m sure it would help you in many ways.”
I smile at him. He doesn’t know it, but I have long started to work on a manuscript. It’s not a detailed retelling of his story. Artistic freedom called for some alterations, but he definitely served as an inspiration.
I don’t want him to know about it, yet. It’s a surprise, something that excites me, just like he does.
I turn around and straddle him. His hazel eyes look up at me, displaying need and adoration equally, while his hands wander beneath my dress.
“I may write that book,” I tell him. “One day.”
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