The runaway bride.

"Have you ever been in love?"

The sugary sweet voice belongs to the woman currently skating a sharp pink-painted fingernail down my bare chest. She has her head with tawny locks of hair resting against my chest, hearing the beats of my heart which are in a pattern of solace, having sought comfort in the warmth of her skin.

The nicotine from the cigarette swirls in my mouth before I part my lips, releasing a waft of white smoke toward the ceiling of her one-bedroom apartment above a cafeteria downstairs.

"No," my answer is formed in a hollow tone, chasing the smoke away from my lips.

The woman tilts her head, grey eyes finding my chin. She is the prettiest of all the women I have entertained, thinking that I could move on from her-from the one that has my heart in her fist while she remains unbothered by my existence, finding her peace in a home with Ryan.

"That's a lie," Melanie comments. "You're thirty- three. You must have been in love once."

"Love is a name given to an intense need to let go of your ownership to belong to someone else. I consider myself above minuscule human connections," I tell her, stating a false claim flatly.

She is a good fuck. I don't wish for her to be anything more.

"I don't believe that. You're lying." She pushes herself from my body, the comforter sliding down her body, a full tit coming into view with its skin marked red by my teeth. "You can tell me the truth. I'm good with keeping secrets."

"You really wanna know?"

"Can't I? You're a fascinating man. We have slept together more times than I can count now. I deserve to know something about you."

"I know nothing about you."

I pull out the cigarette stick from my mouth, brushing it off on the ashtray kept above her nightstand. I rise from my lying position, the heavy feeling in my chest just as evident as it was two years ago while I plant my feet on the hardwood floor, grabbing for my pair of discarded jeans.

"Another lie. You're getting good with this, stranger," Melanie says.

I find her with her knees pulled to her chest, her arms over it as she watches me wear my jeans. I pull the zipper, my cock having grown flaccid the moment she started getting personal.

"I was in love once. I still am," I confess, the biting memory not being of a livening nature to me.

"Who's she? Someone special?" Melanie's eyes shimmer with curiosity that is devoid of any hint of jealousy.

She is a young woman of twenty-four. We first met each other when I visited the cafeteria she works at. We had a good time and I didn't even have to tell her my name to get her to sleep with me. She was only interested in my cock and I let her have it in exchange for her delicious pussy.

I have tried my best to dismiss the fact that she is a brunette too. Just like the rest of them.

Just like her.

"I did and now she's my brother's wife."

"Ouch!" Melanie bites down on the inside of her cheek at my response, a flash of guilt appearing in her pupils. "I touched a sore spot there. Sorry."

"Are you?" I mutter under my breath, reaching for my shirt which dangles on a corner of her bed.

When I first came here, she didn't have a bed at all. I bought it for her not only because I wanted to do something good but also to have something to bend her over for when I slammed into her from behind.

I slide my hands inside the sleeves, my back to her as I button myself, having lost interest in the conversation.

She however has a lot to say it seems.

"You're leaving earlier than usual. Wanna hang out for a while?" she inquires, climbing down the bed while being wrapped in the comforter still. She finds me struggling to pull on the buttons of my shirt and glides herself between a wall and my body to help. I let her while staring at the crown of her head which only reaches a mere 5 '3. "We can have a mini date in the cafeteria. You can tell me more about her."

She quickly finishes buttoning my shirt, looking up to beam at me through a pair of swollen lips that gives the world's best blowjobs.

"What made you think I want you to be my counselor?" I say harshly, stepping back from her as her smile drops at my dismissal of her intentions.

"I don't get you, stranger," she observes with a pouty mouth. "You never even told me your name. You come here and you fuck me and then when I start to want more, you leave."

Just like I want the rest of my life to be. Søttling isn't going to be my thing until I can erase her memories from my head. She haunts me without being dead.

"You shouldn't try getting to know me. I need your pussy and you love to suck on my cock. That's where our deal ends."

"Is it because I'm just a waitress? I'm not good enough for billionaires like you, am I?"

I roll my eyes at her dumb conclusion. "I'm not responsible for your self-hating thoughts."

I take a few steps towards the door but she stops me with a touch against my forearm.

"Will you come back?" she asks.

I chew at the inside of my cheek before facing her. She drops her hand, doe-like eyes wide on me as I take a step to come close to her. I lift a hand to her lips, dragging her plush bottom lip down, imagining the way it had sucked me off quite eagerly a few hours ago.

"Pretty girl..." I rasp which makes her flesh turn pink. "You should wish that I never come back. I'm not good news for you."

"I have a thing for bad boys."

My thumb departs her lip as my hand dips down, curling around the smooth olive skin of her neck. She jumps with a gasp when my fingers curve around that gentle throat, pushing her against the wall behind her. Her eyes bulge when I squeeze her, her face losing blood at an alarming rate the tighter my fingers grow. I lean forward, lips a hairsbreadth away from her earlobe.

"After the way you just tried to get personal with me..." I whisper with a threatening edge to my voice. "Pray that I never come back 'cause if I do, the next time you'll find yourself fucking a monster in your bed who's far from being a man."

I let my fingers uncurl when her face turns completely white. She coughs when I release her, moving away from her to give her space to breathe. Her eyes are bloodshot the next time she locks eyes with me.

"I see why the girl you love didn't love you back," she bites back. "Let me guess you're the kind who fucks women who remind you of her. Is she a brunette too?

Fighting the tug at my lips, I maintain a neutral expression as I reach for her door.

"You got the game," I say before I step out.

"Asshole!" I hear her faint shout from behind. "For your information - I'm blonde underneath the dye."

"Good for you. You just found your way out of the devil's snare," I apprise her. "Word of advice - don't find another."

New York is carrying on with its hustle-bustle when I walk out of Melanie's residence, the cafeteria behind me sparkling with its decorative board even in the bright afternoon with the sudden beating down upon the asphalt pavement. My car is parked on the other side and while I wait for the traffic light to turn green to allow safe passage, I have the urge to hear her voice.

Just hear her voice. That's it. Like I have the urge to every day.

I lean by a lamppost, my thumb over my phone screen dialing her number from the favorites list. She picks up after the second ring, that breathy sigh of hers doing something feral to my heart when I hear it.

"Hey, Lizzie," I say.

"Stop calling me, Reece," she complains with a groan like every day. "I'm not your messenger. Talk to him yourself."

All this while and she still thinks that I call her because I want to talk to Ryan.

"I just wanted to hear your voice."

"You're sick."

The light patter of her footsteps over the phone has my heart thumping, then the thuds grow faster when I hear the beautiful voice of the baby she has with her who is speaking a language of her own.

Josephine is named after her mother's maiden name. I love my niece to death even though I hardly get to see her because I don't visit them enough in LA. My home is there and yet, being near Lizzie is never not heart-wrenching.

Every time she looks at Ryan with those eyes full of love, I get the ugly feeling that I could have had that look for myself if I hadn't ruined us.

"After this is all over. I said to her long ago once. Will you find it in your heart to love me?"

Never, Reece," she had stated without hesitation.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm in New York again. Daily location checks as you asked for," I say, glancing at the light which hasn't turned green yet.

"There's a thing called a text that you can use for that shit," she chides me.

"And miss hearing you rant like this?"

"Look, Reece..." I feel the tension in her voice and picture her with a stressed look upon her. "Now's not the time to annoy me. I'm already pretty annoyed. I just emailed my best friend for the hundredth time in two years and she hasn't responded yet again. On top of that, Josephine just spoke her first word after numerous therapy classes. You know what it was?"

"Mama?" I make a weak guess, dragging an eyebrow up.

"Fuck," Lizzie says. "That's what her first word was."

I purse my lips as a rumble of laughter builds in my stomach at the news.

"Did you ask your husband where she learned that from?" I question, already knowing that the culprit is her father who throws a lot of fucks around every time he is happy or nervous or sad.

"Don't laugh," Lizzie scolds me when she hears the hint of a chuckle in my voice.

"Sorry."

"When you have kids, you'll understand."

"I don't plan to."

The light turns green and I cross the road with a few others.

"By the way you lead your bachelor life, I'm waiting for the day someone drops a kid at your door with a note saying you're the father," Lizzie tells me while I am walking toward my SUV.

I spot a group of burly men weirdly dressed in dark suits on my way, their presence distracting me as I spot them running around as if they are frantically looking for someone.

"Makes one hell of a plot for your cheap romance books, doesn't it?" I remark to Lizzie over the phone.

"Those books aren't cheap. They teach a lot about human connection. You need to read them," she replies enthusiastically.

"I read the mafia one you recommended. I'm in the third book now."

"It's addictive, isn't it? I made Ryan a fan of smutty alien books," she giggles sweetly.

"You should do this for a job."

"Excuse me," she starts. "I'm a billionaire's wife and the owner of the entire Pierce estate. I don't need to do a job unless I want to. I love my homemaker life."

The way she talks with such fascination about the most mundane of things makes me smile without effort.

"God...I love you," I blurt out, then realize what I have just said as I halt before reaching the car, knowing that I messed up. "I mean...fuck!"

Silence follows as I run a hand through my hair, an icy feeling in my chest growing while I wait for Lizzie to say something. Anything.

"Bye, Reece," she says.

"Lizzie, wait, I didn't mean it-" I hear a beep as she cuts the call before I can do some damage control. I bring the phone down, looking at the screen as a violent urge to smash it crashes into me. "Fuck!"

I somehow control myself from growing through with that urge. I pocket my phone, framing excuses for my slip of tongue as I reach my car. I discover that I left it unlocked in my hurry to reach Melanie and mentally slap myself as I open the door and settle into the driver's seat.

I shut my eyes, pressing two fingers to the center of my forehead while I beat myself down over my mistake.

When I hear a rustle of clothes, I fling them open, my sight falling on the rearview mirror where the shape of another human being inside my car makes me blink.

I turn to face the creature in the passenger seat, seeing a pair of viridian eyes staring back at me.

She is gorgeous.

Dressed in a white gown which she holds in a fist while she gazes at me, the brunette has two locks of her hair styled to curl and bounce over rosy cheeks with her milky skin glowing and a set of pink lips parted in astonishment. She is a sight for sore eyes.

It takes me a while to realize what I am looking at.

There is a bride in my car.

CHAPTER TWO

He can't look away from me, most probably wondering how a bride came to be in his SUV.

His eyes as blue as the ocean in a Monet piece stare into me. He is not as finely dressed as his brother always is. Reece Pierce hasn't chosen his outfit of the day after much thought. He has thrown in a coal-black shirt, firmly fitted to his bulging muscles, and his legs are clad into slim-fit jeans, his feet embedded in a pair of black boots.

The handsome face, all rough edges with dark circles under his eyes, appears tired. His dark hair is messy and he reeks of sex, tinged with the smoke of cigarettes. I discovered the reason behind his exhaustion the moment he entered the car. Reece stands up to his tabloid profile just as I assumed he would be a womanizer to the very bone.

"I don't remember advertising my car as a wedding venue," he says when the silence between us starts to reach a level of certain discomfort.

His voice is like whiskey, its fluidity dripping down my skin and making my stomach coil.

"I-" I attempt to speak but just at that moment, an unexplained force slams me forward. Instantly, I find Reece's arm extending to shield me before my head can hit the dashboard. "Fuck!"

"What the-" Reece grunts irritatedly, his forearm "What the pressing against my boobs.

"Drive!" I shout, squeezing hard on Reece's shoulder.

He looks at me like he has been startled awake. His shock doesn't last long when the glass at the back shatters when a bullet pierces through it, the sound cutting through the air. Reece and I both duck and then he slams a booted foot on the accelerator.

The car veers off at a frantic speed, breezing through the New York traffic, disrupting the trajectory of other cars. I hold on to Reece with one hand while with the other, I hang on to the panic bar. I have my eyes on the rearview mirror which shows me Casteel's men in two-three jeeps behind us with their heavy guns pointed at us. They don't shoot at me but have the barrel directed at the back of Reece's head.

"What the fuck is happening? Why are these people chasing me!?" Reece yells, hoking madly when cars come in front of the vehicle.

His fingers around the steering wheel are ashen white as he keeps his head ducked to prevent a sudden bullet from piercing through his skull.

"It's not you. It's me they want!" I shout back, horrified at the rate at which he is driving.

Even though men are chasing us, his driving skills give the sign that he isn't a good driver. I silently try to envy the lives of those who never rode with him. They should thank their lucky stars because, at this rate, I don't think I will survive.

Even death would be better than marrying Casteel.

"Why the fuck are you with me?" Reece growls, annoyance dripping from his deep voice as he swerves, taking a turn on a less crowded street from the main road. "You just get into strangers' cars to have them shot at?"

"Stop the car or we'll shoot!" one of Casteel's men warns from behind but I know he won't shoot till I am close to Reece.

He wouldn't kill me. Only Casteel will want the right to that.

"Your door was unlocked. I was escaping them," I mutter, defending myself as I recall getting into his car to escape the men. I had thought I had misdirected them but apparently, one of them saw me before I could leave the hotel. "Watch out!"

A truck materializes out of a turn and wheezes right past us, its wheels making a screeching sound as it tries to evade one of the jeeps but fails. I wince, seeing them crash and the jeep slides off the road, rolling down and breaking through someone's garden gate. The other two jeeps, one of them carrying Casteel's right-hand man, a whitened- looking Delvin, storms past the two without a second glance, all their focus fixed on catching us.

Reece drives menacingly, taking a few more turns that even confuse me and when he stops, be slams right into a stack of bricks and cement before pressing on the brakes. I gasp, not able to believe l survived that reckless driving.

"Crap!" Reece mutters, seeing in the rearview mirror the jeeps close to us. He opens the door to his side and gets out, walking around to my side. I discover that I have been balancing my body on the door when he opens it and I slam right into his chest, intaking the scent of woodsy cologne that infiltrates my nostrils. "Come here."

He lifts me with two strong arms by my waist and puts me down on my feet before grabbing my hand. I look to find us on a construction side of a to-be- made building where there are no workers. Reece takes my hand in his and sprints forward with me on his toes.

I hear the hurried steps of the men who stop and get down from their jeeps to follow us. My brain is puzzled, too overwhelmed by everything that is happening as I follow Reece blindly, letting him take me deeper into the labyrinth of half-built rooms and pillars sticking up all around.

My heart is in my throat, thudding wildly when we turn a corner and Reece halts, my front colliding with his back. I look up over his shoulder, seeing three of Casteel's men with sneers on their faces as one of them points a gun at Reece.

"Woah-" Reece exclaims, letting go of my hand and raising both of his in the air.

"Leave the girl. Give her to us. Right fucking now," the one holding the Beretta 92 growls at Reece, his sharp eyes on me.

"Relax, big, burly guy," Reece begins, sounding way too calm as he backs a few steps away, pushing into me. "I have no interest in your girl. See, here...I have dropped her hand."

"Step away from her. Ten steps back."

"Easy there now. Is she your girl? Looks too young for you, don't you think?"

I stare in awe at his casual way of mocking the man as if they aren't holding his life in their hands. One bullet and he will be dead.

"Don't call her mine," the man with the gun seethes, thrusting the barrel in the air as if to lay particular emphasis on his words. "She's my boss's fiancée. Get back!"

"Okay there..." Reece remarks and to my horror, moves away from me, side-stepping to let me come face-to-face with my chasers. "Here you go. Ten steps back."

I almost cry at his words as the man with the gun takes a step forward, still pointing the gun at Reece while his companion passes by him, extending a hand to grab for me. I try to take more steps back but hit a half-built wall behind me, leaving me with no space to escape.

"Did you help her escape?" the man with the gun inquires of Reece who has his stare fixed on the man who catches hold of my wrist, pulling me harshly to him.

"Of course not, man," he replies with a less focused voice. "What do I look like to you?"

"I should just kill ya," another man warns with a bored look and I shake my head at him while struggling to escape the man who has his filthy hands on me, trying to pull me away.

"Kill me and my billionaire brother and his wife will have your heads too," Reece throws back, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not just anyone."

His declaration reminds me of the friend that I left behind in LA two years ago. I am relieved to know she has found her happiness but the pain in my heart of not being with her still makes me feel small of myself.

I was her everything and I just left her behind. This is Karma.

The man brings the gun down, Reece's warning affecting him as he puts his chin on his companion. "Take the girl."

When they start to drag me away from Reece, I scream, realizing that it's not home but hell they are dragging me back. Tears spill from my eyes as I kick my heeled feet on the ground, my eyes pleading when they meet Reece's blue pupils.

"No, no, no, please," I beg him, sobbing mercilessly as the feel of the man's arms around me hurt my soft skin. "Don't let them take me. I'm begging you, please. He's forcing me to get married. I don't want to marry him. Please...please I beg you. Help me!"

"Shut up, woman," the man holding me fumes.

I see Reece fist his hands, his jaw clenching when he hears that. He steps forward, stepping onto the stones that litter the ground.

"Screw it!" I hear him curse out before his hand grabs for my fingers, stopping us.

"What-" the man holding me begins but Reece doesn't let him finish.

"Sorry," he says, his hold on my hand tightening and pulling me to him with a quick yank before the man holding me can get back to his senses. "I changed my mind. Tell your boss I'm keeping his bride."

Reece forces me behind his back, shielding my body as the man with the gun reaches for his weapon again. Before he can though, one of Reece's booted feet rises in the air, slamming with a crack right over his nose the crack resonates through the air, even making me wince as blood gushes out of the man's nose and he drops his gun.

Reece is quick to push the weapon away with his other foot, dumping it down on an elevator shaft that is still in the makings and which leads to the weapon landing way deep below. While the man nurses his nose, another comes to attack Reece, looking forward to punching him but Reece dives, pulling me along with him and the punch of the man lands on the wall behind us. He cries out as Reece kicks him on the butt, throwing him down; he dangles an inch from following the fate of the gun.

"Thank you," I whisper to Reece, startled by his act of kindness which goes in contrast to tabloid articles.

Before he can repty, the third man throws his arm around Reece's neck, dragging him to the ground. I gasp as they both slide down the floor, Reece's hands trying to drag the man's hands down his neck.

"Now's not the time, baby girl," Reece chokes out with extreme difficulty. "Make yourself useful for once."

"Oh my God!" I look around, searching for any weapon, and find a boning rod.

I lift it and throw it toward the man holding Reece. The guy lets go of Reece with a cry as his bald head starts to bleed and he crumples to the ground. Reece drags himself up from the floor, only to be attacked by the man with a bleeding nose whose fist comes flying to connect with his cheek.

"Do something!" Reece asks of me as the man lands on top of him, his hands coming around to choke him too.

This time, I don't wait to find a weapon and instead reach for one of my glass heels. I point the sharp end of the heel toward the man.

"Hey, moron!" I call out and he turns to look and in a split second, my heel connects with his nose again.

His scream is louder this time which I know his remaining mates must have heard as Reece pushes him off his body and the man goes rolling across the floor.

"Good shot," Reece compliments me, seeing the man writhing on the floor as he holds his nose with both hands.

"Thanks," I mutter, swallowing a gulp as sympathy for all three men rises in my heart.

They were just following orders. Casteel is the one who deserves to be punished.

We are alerted to more footsteps rounding the corner where we are at.

"Ah, shit! There are more," Reece groans, reaching for my hand while I throw away my other heel to walk properly. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Reece pulls us both to a darkened corner as Delvin and his other men find us.

"Are there many?" I whisper, my voice sounding muffled over Reece's shoulder.

"Too many," he answers. "Which psycho did you say yes to?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Fuck! Suddenly marriage doesn't seem like a good idea anymore," he grumbles.

We wait in the dark as Delvin helps his men up one by one. Except for the guy I hit with the rod, the other two look ready for a fight. What do these guys eat for that kind of stamina?

When they go around a corner, Reece takes the chance to slip away with me and he ends up removing a sliding wooden door to a liftbox.

"Get in," he orders me.

I do so, squeezing myself with my heavy gown inside the small box-like place which looks like it is used to transfer materials from top to bottom. Reece shoves himself in, sliding the block of wood back in place before he sits down and lets the darkness inside engulf us.

My heartbeats are so loud that I hear them as the only sound in the entire construction site, thinking to myself what have I gotten myself into. A drop of sweat slides down my cheek, dancing through my tears stain as I curl into myself, allowing Reece to have his space in this little place while fear trickles through me.

Even in the stark darkness, my eyes slowly adjust to find him sweating heavily, his eyes blinking as if in realization.

"Oops," he squeaks, quickly making work to unbutton his shirt, revealing a broad expanse of his chest with tattoos swirling on his skin.

Now that I can finally have a good look at him, I spot other tattoos all over his body, some of which are in languages I don't know. He unbuttons all the way much to my amazement before he swallows deeply, looking up at the darkness while intaking heavy breaths, his knuckles white as his hands remain fisted on the ground on both sides.

"What? What happened?" I ask him with a low voice as concern for him alerts me to the fact that something is clearly wrong with the way his face is turning red with every second.

"Ah...nothing..." he murmurs.

"Your face is turning red. Are you okay?"

"It's a panic attack. I hate closed spaces," he says with an edge to his tone. "Quick! Say something to distract me."

My lips form an O as worry for him fills my heart. I frantically scrounge my brain for anything that would distract him and end up with only one question.

"Have you ever had a threesome?" I blurt out.

Reece lets out a cough as if I just made him choke.

His eyes widen with disbelief as he stares at me. Seconds pass between us and I find his face losing the redness as he lets out a sigh.

"I see why he wants to marry you," he remarks when he has calmed down, this time with a slice of mockery in his voice.

"Did it work?" I ask.

"Magnificently." He rolls his eyes, sounding sarcastic.

"Oh, thank goodness! If you died, your soul would haunt me," I sigh in relief too.

"Glad to know you're still thinking about yourself."

"I didn't mean it like that."

Footsteps nearby of the men make us both go still. Reece watches from a little hole in one corner of the wood blocking us from view and puts his index finger over his lips, gesturing to me to stay silent. I go absolutely still when I hear Delvin's voice.

"Search the backside!" Delvin yells to his men.

"No sign of them!" one of the men replies.

"Where would they go? It's the fucking "Where wo. construction site. It's like a labyrinth," Delvin complains. "Boss would be furious." A buzz of a phone cuts through the air. "Fuck! It's him. Yeah...boss? We're close. We'll bring her to you. Boss?"

Silence descends for some time before another man's faint voice comes through the wood. "What did he say?"

"What do you think, moron?" Delvin grunts. "Find the girl. If Casteel has any mercy left, he'll spare her."

"Will he really kill her?" another man adds. "I kind of liked her. She made me Turkish delight once. They were delicious."

That must be the new recruit. I did that kind deed for him just a month ago. He is one of the softer ones who was forced into serving Casteel because his father made a deal with the mafioso.

"Have you ever seen Steel being merciful to traitors?" Delvin questions him.

"Never."

"Then hurry up! Find that girl! And kill the guy."

"But we can't just use firearms against civilians. We were just threatening them. Besides, he said-"

"I don't care what he said! We'll hide the body. And not a word about him to Steel. He wouldn't be happy to know his girl ran away with her lover."

Reece meets my eyes but I don't see fear in them, the fear that I can feel deep in my heart. I just put Reece in danger for God knows how long by getting into his car, yet he looks unfazed.

"We looked everywhere." More footsteps join in as they echo on the floor. "They aren't here. Must have escaped the place."

"Fuck...we're so screwed," Delvin exasperates. "Get in the jeep. I need to think of how to break the news to him."

"He'll kill us all. He's the devil himself," the new recruit says with a shiver in his voice.

"Then pray to the Lord to have mercy on us," Delvin mutters.

Reece and I stay still for a long time as we hear the footsteps depart until we hear no more but are too scared to get out yet. Reece moves his face away from the wood to look at me.

"That was...something," he breaks the silence with tentative caution.

"Are you okay now?" I question him, my voice shaky as my throat dries up at the thought of Delvin breaking this news to Casteel.

He would believe it all, even though Reece and I are practically strangers. He would believe he is my lover indeed.

"I am," Reece replies, his palms slamming down on his knees. "So, will you spill now or shall I wait for the groom to join us?"

"Talk," I order the gorgeous girl when she doesn't respond to my question.

Her silence has me feeling a sickening sensation in my chest. She looks terrified of whoever she is running from and I despise that terror on her lovely face.

What? I am an appreciator of beauty. Hers is one of a kind.

"There's nothing to talk about," she sighs, denying me the answer for the second time.

"Are you sure about that?" I inquire, moving closer to her within the enclosed space.

She clutches her wedding gown in two small fists, her breath caught in her throat as I tower over her even in my sitting position. Her lips pucker, releasing a breath that she doesn't seem to realize she had been holding.

"It's better for you to not know. I don't want to put you into any more trouble," she says.

I flick my gaze between her eyes and her pillowy lips, debating whether or not to indulge in some dirty deeds while I am with her. Something about that look of fear in her eyes urges me to be a predator to her prey.

"Okay, then."

Her eyes widen at my words. I move away from her, sliding the wood to the other side, and get out, my shirt still unbuttoned. The cool air breezes my skin, giving a sense of relief while a rustle of clothes signals her getting out too. We both glance at each other, an awkward feeling dancing between us as the girl bites her bottom lip, fixing her eyes on her bare feet which must have blisters by now from all the ground she trudged on.

With my hands on my hips, I turn to her.

"So...have a good day," I say. " I hope you don't get chased anymore. Bye."

Ignoring the protest that storms my mind to not leave her alone, I turn to guide myself out of Ryan's construction site when the girl's sudden intake of audible breath stops me.

"Wait!" Gentle fingers grab for my wrist, circling with the softest pressure that makes me stare at her hand, then at her. "Where are you going?"

"Baby girl, you aren't my bride for real now, okay?" I tell her, pushing her hand off my wrist. "I'm going my way, you can go your way."

"You're leaving me? Alone?"

Her lips pout, the moisture in her eyes twinkling as she gives me an accusatory look like I am the reason for whatever problem she is in. I dip my eyebrows, not quite placing that expression.

"Now, why are you making that break-up face?" examine, crossing my arms and the girl flinches at the stone-cold edge of my voice.

"It's not a break-up face," she states, then goes back to fidgeting from foot to foot. "I'm...I just..."

"I don't have all day, baby girl."

"Don't call me that!"

"What?"

"I'm not your baby girl."

"What's your name then?"

"Tatia Holland."

The name sounds familiar which makes me stare at her deeply, trying to place her face in my mind. However, I fail no matter how much I try to remember.

"Okay, Miss. Holland," I release a sigh, dropping my hands to my sides. "It was a pleasure to hide from the goons with you. We had an excellent time.

I hope you reach home safely."

That sounds crazily like the speech I usually give to my one-night stands, although the part with the goons is often replaced by 'a tumble on the sheets. The girl doesn't stop looking at me with her big. green eyes, her pupils growing shinier with every passing second.

I proceed to walk away again, but her next words make me halt.

"Reece, wait..."

I turn in a flash, stunning her as she steps away. Her knowing my name has me scrounging my brain again for where and how I might have heard her name from. Is she one of my previous one- night stands?

Almost lazily, I scan my eyes through her body, taking in the curves hidden beneath the white gown now blackened with dirt on some parts, the generous tits straining against the material that covers her chest, and the smooth, milky skin of her neck. Combined with that pair of lips, I should have at least remembered having my cock between them.

I am blank though and the knowledge that she knows my name has me going alert.

"How do you know me?" I demand, then shake my head. "Correct that everybody knows me. How did you recognize me from my brother?"

"Ryan knows me," she replies.

"How?"

"Because I was Lizzie's best friend..." she declares confidently, then her gaze dips back down when I raise an eyebrow at the statement. "Or I am...I am not so sure anymore."

Lizzie's friend. That's where I heard her name from. She must be the Tia Lizzie keeps sending emails to and who doesn't bother replying to her after leaving her alone suddenly. This girl has some guts telling me about her relationship with Lizzie when even the thought of her makes me hate her for hurting Lizzie.

"Lizzie as in...my Lizzie?" I drawl just to get a reaction from her and true enough, a dark look crosses her face.

"Are you still not over her?"

Her question throws me off-guard. She knows me better than I assumed then, although I have only ever known her by name.

"What do you think?"

"Crap, Reece..." The girl slams a palm to her forehead, closing her decorated eyes. "This is bad. You do know that she's never going to forgive you for what you did, right?"

"Yeah...yeah..." I nod with a bubble of sarcasm in my tone. "Morality and I don't go hand in hand, unfortunately. And who are you to ask me that? You just said you aren't sure if you're friends with her anymore."

Now it is her turn to look taken aback. She drops her hand, a guilty expression replacing the worry on her face. I am distracted for a second by her lips again. They are pink, soft, and cupid's bow shaped -made for kissing my own.

The thought violates my senses and I have to fist my hands to stay in control. I need to put some distance between this girl and me before I do something I will regret tomorrow.

It doesn't matter how fuckable she looks. She is Lizzie's friend. I can't touch her with a ten-foot pole. It will only ruin the leftover relationship I have with Lizzie.

"That's not for you to know," she drops with harshness in her voice.

"Fine, then. I'm leaving."

I shrug but don't take a step away. Urgency crosses her eyes as she steps closer, her hands carrying her gown as she drags herself toward me. I take a glance at her feet which are dirtied. She must be hurt if she is limping like that.

"No, wait. I'm sorry..." She grabs my hand again. I let her, looking at the way her fingers attempt to curl around my wrist but fail too because I am larger than her. I can almost see the crown of her head at the height she stands. "Please help me."

"I already helped you, Miss. Holland. I have no interest in having your chasers on my back 24x7," I say flatly.

"But they already have you. They will keep an eye on you even if you want to or not."

"I can handle that."

"Please...don't leave me here."

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

My sudden brashness makes her blink in trepidation. She drops my hand instantly, backing a few steps away. Her palm touches her stomach as she breathes heavily, her chest rising and falling in high patterns.

"I just want a safe place to stay..." she mutters after a long moment of silence. "...and your protection."

"Bold of you to assume I go around selling either of those. My brother's the businessman. I'm just his architect."

She doesn't note my sarcasm. Her eyes brighten Instead, her shoulders straightening like she is ready to fight a battle with me if she has to.

"Which means you specialize in planning, right? I need you to help me hide myself. Draw me a plan, Reece."

"Who are you to demand my help?"

"I'm not demanding of you." Her voice turns softer, the dampness in her eyes threatening to morph into tears. "It's my request. Help me, Reece and I'll help you in turn."

She catches my attention with that. I take a step closer, causing her to step back in turn as I tower over her until her back collides with a wall behind her. The scent of her perfume grows stronger, causing me to lean in with one hand pressing to the wall behind her head, the other I rest on the wall beside her waist, caging her in.

She stays still, taking in my bare chest. For just some moments, I take pleasure in her silent admiration of my body, tugging the corner of my lips to a smirk when a red hue rises on her cheeks before she looks away like she can hide from me.

"Go on," I enunciate, breath fanning her slightly open lips, making me do everything in my power to keep myself in check.

Tatia swallows a gulp before she speaks.

"Lizzie hates you."

"I know that. Say something new."

"If she finds out you helped me, she will see the kind man you are and consider forgiving you."

"And why would that be the case?"

"Because I'm her friend and I know Lizzie." Her expression eases immediately as if talking about Lizzie gives her as much peace as it gives me. "Trust me, Reece, I can help you be back in her good graces."

Her confidence is exciting. She doesn't seem like the one who backs down easily.

"Listen, baby girl." I use that nickname again, taking delight when she frowns upon it. "You're playing a dangerous game here. Using my emotions to manipulate me."

"Is it working?" she dares to ask.

"Fuck..." I rasp, both annoyed and fascinated by the fire in her. "I hate this."

"Reece...if not for humanity, do it for Lizzie. Please," she pleads again, giving me that innocent look.

"Don't look at me like that," I throw back firmly.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm your answer to everything."

"You are," she speaks adamantly. "Fate brought me to you."

"It wasn't fate."

I am about to pull away from her when her fingers reach for my shirt and she draws me to her before I can move.

"Reece..." she says my name while squeezing the material of my shirt tightly.

I look at her pale hands, spotting the little white scars all over her hands which appear age-old. I don't like the sight of them.

"Miss. Holland, let go of my shirt," I demand strongly, giving her a grave look.

"Just for a few weeks," she says. "Once I get my life back together and his anger dies down, I'll be able to move around freely."

Who the fuck is this he she keeps talking about? Even the men who were chasing us appeared to be terrified of this Casteel person. If I ask, she won't tell me, which makes me even more cautious to supply her demands.

"That's not my problem."

I make her let go of my shirt forcefully even though her fingers fight to keep me near - as if my going away will kill her.

I make up my mind to leave for the third time but she reaches for my hand again, grabbing it tighter this time.

"Mr. Pierce..." she utters, adding a tone of respect. "He will kill me. If you leave me now, I'll be dead."

My feet freeze on the spot at her words. I dig my nails into my palm, seeing red at the very thought of her being another body with no life. It reminds me of the night my father died. It reminds me of the day my step-father - Lizzie and Crystal's Dad - shot himself minutes after reuniting with his daughter.

There was blood, way too much of it and then there was Lizzie's scream that shattered a part of me.

Death is so easy and yet what it leaves behind never Is.

I can't bear the burden of any more deaths.

A coldness tightens my chest. I look at the girl - taking in her beautiful face with rosy cheeks which now have tears tainting their glow - tears of fear. In a sick way, I know that I am the reason for those tears.

"Fuck!" I curse out, stepping toward her in two brisk steps.

I lift a hand and brush those tears that are paving their way down her chin with my thumb, taking her by surprise as she sucks in a breath at my touch. Her skin is soft under my roughened one. If I press a little harder, I could taint her myself.

Maybe even break her.

"Just for a few weeks," I say as her tears wet my fingers and a gleam of hope makes her pupils shine. "...and you'll listen to every word I say when you're living with me."

"You will take me then?"

"Only because I have no choice."

That is not true. I have a choice. I can leave her, pay no heed to her, forget about her. But a part of me knows that I can't. The thought of her would keep me awake at night, pictures of her bright eyes will be replaced by faded ones that have no life. She would haunt me without being dead.

"Will you protect me?" she chokes out.

The fear hasn't left her yet. I drag my hand down her face until it reaches the nape of her neck. I hold her tight there, making her keep her eyes on me.

"I promise," I vow and the sigh of relief that leaves her mouth is a sound of blessing. I reach for my phone and dial my manager without moving my eyes from her. He receives it within seconds. "Hanson, I need a chopper."

"On it, sir," he replies.

I cut the call while Tatia blinks at me as if she wants to say something but can't. I squeeze her neck and feel her pulse calm down under my wrist when she focuses on my touch, letting it seep into her mind.

"Breathe," I tell her, using my fingers to draw circles on the nape of her neck.

She closes her eyes, inhales a deep breath, and exhales with her mouth. Then she looks at me.

"Will you protect me?" she starts. "Even if it does not affect Lizzie? Will you keep me safe? Or will you let him take me?"

I squeeze her neck tighter, her doubt igniting a fire in my veins that wants to warn her to never doubt my words as I rasp with my mouth close to hers and the air between us thickening with my resolve.

"I made a vow to you, baby girl. If he wants to take you from me, he has to do that over my dead body."