Dark Devotions by Nichole Greene
15
GRANT
I’ve been staringat Liv sleeping for the past hour. All my muscles ache from sleeping in this damn chair all night, but knowing someone breached the property a few nights ago, I couldn’t relax without knowing she was protected. I can hear someone moving around in the kitchen, so I stand, stretching out my stiff muscles as I go.
Lake is already starting a pot of coffee. I give him a nod of greeting when we make eye contact.
“Did you sleep out there all night?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Yeah. I waited until she fell asleep to settle in though. After the shitshow yesterday, I figured she wouldn’t want to fall asleep looking at my face.”
“I can’t argue with you.” He scratches the stubble on his jaw. “Nolan and I are leaving tonight to find Sharpe.”
“Is that who took out her parents?”
“Yeah. He confirmed it with Nolan yesterday.”
“He’s going to know you’re coming for him. Do you need backup?”
He slants a bored look in my direction. “We’ll be fine. Are you going to be good with Liv? Or should I say, are you going to be nice?”
“Yes.” As soon as the words left my lips yesterday I wanted to take them back, and then she walked past me. It took every ounce of willpower I have not to reach out to her and beg for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it though. Something I keep telling myself over and over. Lake is the only one who knows the guilt I’m struggling with right now.
“You need to open up to her. Take her to dinner or one of your clubs tonight. I’ve had eyes all over Manhattan the past couple weeks, and there’s been no sign of Tripp. With you and the plainclothes security detail, it should be okay.”
“If she agrees to spend time with me. She was pissed yesterday.”
“Rightfully so.” He cocks an eyebrow at me. “But she misses you. She smiles when she looks at photos of you. She looks for your face in the room whether you’re there or not.”
“Morning.” Sawyer walks in already dressed for the day in a navy suit. “I have the chopper coming in an hour and a half.”
“Okay, I’ll go get ready, then.”
“Wake Liv up on your way. In case she wants to shower before we leave. She doesn’t need to pack, I had more clothes delivered to our apartments. She’s got clothes in all four now.”
“Did you even ask her first? It’s a bit presumptive.”
“No. I’m not planning on letting her leave again.”
“Same,” Nolan says as he walks in. “So you better fix what you fucked up yesterday,” he says pointing at me. “Because where Livvy goes, I go.”
Liv is getting up when I walk into the living room. I watch her stretch, the tank top she slept in shows an expanse of skin that is finally free of bruising. I do note how she winces as she rubs her ribs though.
She turns and looks at me with her golden brown eyes. There’s a hollow emptiness there today, all the spark that was there last night is gone. My chest aches thinking about the range of emotions she’s gone through in the past few weeks. At least last night she had spark and fire back in those beautiful eyes.
“The helicopter is coming to get us in a little over an hour if you want to shower.” My tone is harsh, and her gaze hardens in response. I barely hold back a smirk, at least I got a little life back in her this morning. She’s already pissed at me, a little more prodding can’t hurt. “We can’t get behind schedule so try to be on time.”
“I’ll do my best,” she sasses as I walk away.
I take a shower and dress in a pair of jeans and a Henley. I stay in my room until I hear the helicopter land. Liv’s holding Sawyer’s hand as they board, so I guess he’s not in the doghouse like Nolan and I seem to be.
I give both Lake and Nolan a one-arm hug and remind them to be careful and have each other’s backs. Sharpe is short for sharpshooter, the alias that he goes by in our circle. He’s one of highest paid assassins in North America and not someone to mess with. I’ll be concerned until they get back from this side mission.
“Look who’s holding us up,” Liv says as I climb in beside her.
The flight goes by about the same. Liv either ignoring me or getting sassy and me pushing her buttons. No regrets though, it’s actually kind of fun to antagonize her.
When we touch down on the roof of our building, I get out first and offer my hand to Liv. She grabs the handle instead and gets out with no help. We both look at Sawyer, waiting for him to get out, but he stays seated.
“I have to fly to Philadelphia for a meeting with clients. I won’t be back until tomorrow evening.” He leans out of the chopper and pulls Liv in for a long and thorough kiss. When they break apart, he whispers something in her ear, and she blushes.
When I hold my arm out for her, she brushes past me and heads for the steel door to the stairs. When I look back at Sawyer, he mouths “fix it” before sliding back into the seat. I jog over to where she’s waiting by the door and punch in the code, so she knows it.
“You can just let me into Sawyer’s apartment. I’ll be fine there until tomorrow.”
“No can do, Princess. You’re going to have to stay with me tonight.” I lead her over to my door.
“I don’t need you to babysit me. I won’t leave, I don’t even have anywhere to go.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I push my door open for her. “You’re coming with me to one of my clubs tonight.”
She blinks a few times. “You’re taking me out? Is it safe?”
“Liv.” I back her up against the door, caging her between my arms, “I would never put you in harm's way. Ever.” My eyes bounce back and forth between hers, imploring her to believe me. “I know things have been tense, but I need you to know that you are safe with me, always.”
She tilts her head back a little and nods. The movement brings our lips within a breath of each other. My control is slipping, all it would take for me to give in and feast on her mouth is a brush of her hand on me. She keeps the distance though, so I back up marginally.
The space between us reminds me of why I can’t have her. Why I don’t deserve her. I push off the wall and stalk over the sofa table, grabbing the tablet that controls everything in my apartment.
“You can control everything in the apartment from this.” I turn to hand it to her and see her standing with her jaw dropped.
“Grant.” She looks at me with rounded eyes. “Your walls are all glass.”
“Observant,” I say with a smirk.
“How do you get any privacy?” She walks over the glass wall that separates the guest bathroom from the living room. “Grant.” Her voice has risen an octave as she looks back at me. “Even your bathtub is glass. I didn’t even know that was a thing.”
“Anything can be a thing if you have enough money and a big imagination.” I tuck my hands in my pockets and watch her take everything in. “There’s a way to make the glass turn opaque in every room.” I lead her to the bathroom and show her button next to the light switch. As soon as she presses it, the walls go from clear glass to frosted.
“Thank fuck.”
I show her the rest of the apartment and get her something to eat. Then I go back into my office to get some work done and make some phone calls. When I come out an hour later, she’s passed out on the bed in the guest room.
I walk in to fix the blanket she’s using, but I also stand there and watch over her for a few minutes. She’s sleeping deeply, shown by the way her chest rises and falls steadily and the tiny little snores she makes every few minutes. Her hair has haloed around her head, and the contrast of her black lashes against her ivory skin is beautiful.
I stand there, cataloging every inch of her and every sound she makes. If I wasn’t afraid of waking her, I’d lean down and sniff her. I can’t help but reach down and gently run my thumb along her lush lower lip. It’s so soft and pink and perfect.
* * *
“Okay,” Liv says as she walks into the living room. “I’m ready.”
I look up at her, letting my eyes greedily soak up the sight of her dressed for the night. She’s wearing a short black dress that drapes around her body in a way that accentuates her slim figure. The hem of the dress hits her above mid-thigh, and I’m already fighting the urge to glide my fingers up the smooth expanse of skin she’s showing.
“Smile.” I say softly as I hold my phone up to snap a picture. “I’ll send this to the guys.” Hopefully it’ll be a good reminder of why they need to stay aware.
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear shyly before giving me a small smile. I know that Nolan would probably pull a full one from her, but I’m lucky to get anything at all. I try to convince myself that fact doesn’t hurt.
“Where are we going?” she asks from more than an arm’s length away.
“Seven. It’s my most secure club.” For one level you need to be a member, but I’m not sure if she could handle the things that go on there. I don’t want her triggered seeing people engaging in BDSM play. “It’s a burlesque club. I reserved one of our private tables.”
Her eyes sparkle with interest. “I’ve always wanted to go to one of those.”
I grab our coats from the closet. As I help her into the long, hooded coat that Sawyer bought for her I can’t help but be thankful for his eye for fashion. From a practicality standpoint it’s a solid choice, the hood covers her face in shadow. Beyond that though, the cut of the coat and the belted waist exaggerates her slight curves.
She keeps an arm’s length between us at all times. Every time I place my hand on her back, she shifts away. I clench my jaw so hard I think I might crack a tooth when she slides into the town car and plasters herself to the far side.
Logically, I know the blame for this lays in my hands but fuck logic. If she wants to play nasty, I can play fucking nasty. I move toward the middle of the seat and splay my knees out the side. My left thigh presses against hers while I open my phone and check texts and emails. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her look down at our legs before glancing up at me. When I don’t move, she huffs a tiny breath and jerks her leg away.
I pretend to ignore her, my eyes trained on my phone, but all my other senses hone in on her. She smells like vanilla and honey, an intoxicating combination that I’ve never forgotten. It’s another thing to thank Sawyer for, remembering the brands of toiletries she used. The car hits a large pothole and sends her careening into me. Her hand lands on my thigh and briefly squeezes me. Before I can fully appreciate the warmth of her hand on me, she has snatched it away and pushed right back to the opposite side of the bench seat.
I drag a harsh breath into my lungs. This is worse than I thought it would be. I need constant reminders as to why I don’t deserve her smiles, her loyalty, and her love.
Broken ribs.
Shattered soul.
Murdered parents.
My hands may not have been the ones abusing her the past few years, but they definitely aren’t clean of responsibility. I repeat those reasons like a mantra over and over until we pull up in front of the club. It’s an hour before we open, so no one is out front yet.
I exit and hold my hand out to help her, but she ignores my offer and exits without assistance. She looks at the facade of the building before turning back to me with a question in her eyes. Her confusion is understandable; when my business partner, Griff, and I designed and opened this club, it was built for discretion. The outside is unremarkable with no flashy lights or even a sign.
The upper level is where my office is, he has one here too, but his full-time job is running a media conglomerate from a midtown high-rise. The main level is where the burlesque club is. Then the level below is a BDSM dungeon that requires a membership. We cater to the upper echelons of society with deep discretion and strict rules. The lowest level is an illegal fighting ring where we hold unsanctioned fights and gambling. The clubs serve more nefarious purposes for us beyond allowing our members to exercise their dark sides, we gather intel that we use to gain favors throughout our syndicate.
I grab Liv’s hand and pull her inside with me. I lead her into the lounge, saying hello to the bartender who’s already setting up. A few of the dancers are running through their numbers on stage.
“This is our table for the night,” I tell her as I lead her to the table beside the stage. The half circle booth is partitioned off by tall screens, so it’s only visible from the stage. “I have to go upstairs for a couple minutes, but I’ll send Sammy, the bartender, over to get you a drink.”
After a brief discussion with Sammy about making sure no one approaches Liv, I head upstairs. I poke my head in Griff’s office to see if he’s here, but it’s empty. I go down the hall to see if our attorney is here, she has some contracts for a new restaurant I’m thinking about opening with an out-of-town investor. She’s not here either but has the contracts in a manilla folder on her desk with my name on a post-it.
I grab it and scribble a thank you on one of her legal pads. I skim through the contracts until I find her bulleted list of things she thinks we need to negotiate and things we can offer as incentives. I pause outside my office door, debating whether or not to look through everything up here or take it down to the table and look through it there. I decide to get back down to her, as if I could stay away.