Savage Hearts

23

He came in and out without being seen by any of Declan’s guards. I locked the patio door, and he somehow unlocked it from outside. I haven’t heard a peep about triggered security alarms or violated perimeters, but he snuck onto the premises without raising any red flags, appearing noiselessly in my bedroom where he could have quite easily murdered me.

But didn’t.

He called me baby and left me a white rose, instead.

I haven’t decided what I’m going to do if he shows up again.

I’m not naïve. I know he’s dangerous. He wears violence like cologne. Trusting men like him is what gets women like me killed.

But there’s something both powerful and undeniable that draws me to him. An irresistible natural force, like gravity. He knelt next to my bed and took my face in his big rough hand, and my heart opened like a flower.

Clearly, I have the same brains god gave a flea.

“Did Declan tell you anything about the situation with his old boss when you talked to him about taking me out for a drive?”

“It was a text message.”

“Oh.”

“But I did talk to him last night.”

I can tell from his voice that he’s got information. Sitting up straighter in my seat, I look at him eagerly. “And? What did he say?”

“Long story short, without getting into all the gory details, Diego’s got amnesia. Can’t remember a bloody thing that happened to him.”

I gasp. “No way!”

“Aye. They saw him in the hospital. The poor sot doesn’t even recognize Declan. Doesn’t know his own name. Has no bloody idea who or where he is.”

“That’s awful!”

Spider makes a noise of agreement. “It’s quite a mess, all around.”

I examine his face. “Sounds like there’s more to it than amnesia.”

Looking serious, he glances in my direction. “When Declan thought Diego had been killed…let’s just say he didn’t take it sitting down.”

“Oh, boy. That sounds murdery.”

“Aye. Retaliation in kind when a boss is killed is normal business. But with Diego alive, certain actions Declan took have been proven unnecessary. And with Diego not being able to recall who kidnapped him and locked him up, the whole thing’s one giant clusterfuck.”

I get that there’s going to be blowback on Declan for whatever murdery stuff he did to avenge Diego, and I don’t think it’s fair.

“But Declan has an excuse. He really thought Diego was dead. There was a body and everything!”

Spider chuckles darkly. “Tell that to the rest of the families.”

“Wow. I’m glad you can be so nonchalant about it. I think I’d be having a heart attack.”

He shrugs. “It’s the life. Never a dull moment. Dodging death keeps a man young.” He pauses. “What’s that screwy face for?”

“What you just said is probably the most macho thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not sure it was a compliment. Oh, look, a bookstore! Can we go in there?”

I point at an adorable little shop we’re passing by. The façade is painted bright blue. Potted red geraniums line the big bay window in front. A few bicycles are parked outside beside a row of small café tables. People sip coffees and chat in the morning sun.

“Your wish is my command,” says Spider, smiling. He makes a right turn, taking us around the block.

“In that case, I wish for season tickets to the 49ers.”

Spider makes a retching noise. “Ugh. American football.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You Yanks wear too many bloody safety pads. Wankers. And the helmets!” He scoffs. “To cover your dainty eejit brains.”

“Ah. I see where this is going. You’re about to extoll the manly virtues of rugby, right?”

He glances at me, grinning, before pulling into a parking spot at the back of the store. “Extoll?”

I say mildly, “Oh, shut up.”

As soon as Spider turns off the SUV’s engine, I open the door and hop out, collecting my laptop. When I turn around, he’s standing right in front of me.

Scowling.

Taken aback, I say, “What?”

He says crossly, “You’re supposed to let me open the door and help you out, lass.”

“Why? Do I look like I normally have trouble exiting vehicles?”

“No, because I’m a man, and you’re a woman.”

When I only stand there staring at him with my face scrunched up, he adds, “Also, I’m working. It’s my job.”

“You should’ve started with that.”

“Why?”

“Because then I wouldn’t suspect that you have old-fashioned, inflexible ideas about gender roles.”

He chuckles. “I do have old-fashioned, inflexible ideas about gender roles. But trust me when I say that they’re all to your benefit. Now, will you let me open the door to the bloody bookshop for you, or will your wee feminist ego insist we arm wrestle over it?”

I lift my nose in the air and sniff. “I wouldn’t arm wrestle you.”

I was trying to be snooty and dismissive, but he seizes the opportunity of my refusal to make a point.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You’d lose. Would you like to know why?”

Knowing where he’s going with this, I exhale a heavy breath and roll my eyes. “Because you’re stronger than me.”

“Aye. And that’s because…?”

“Because you’re a man, and I’m a woman.”

“Correct.”

“God, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“You’re not the first woman to tell me that.”