Chapter 20
AARON
It took everything in me not to look at her.
In my clothes.
Bare legs. Hair twisted into a messy bun. Sleeves swallowing her hands. Shorts hanging low on her hips.
She looked…
Innocent. Soft. Too damn good.
And I was going to live with her?
For years?
This was going to be slow, exquisite torture.
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When we arrived at her neighborhood, she invited me in. I was still on a call with a major client, so I waved her off, told her I’d be righ behind. Once the call ended, I made my way up. Would’ve been rude not to.
The door was slightly open.
Bad sign.
Inside, the apartment was small, cluttered and looked like a damn hurricane had ripped through it.
Then I heard it.
A sound.
Muffled movement. A struggle.
Something in me snapped. I moved fast, heart hammering.
Then I saw it.
She was pinned against the kitchen counter by some filthy bastard, her shirt gripped in his fists, her face pale and terrified. She was shaking. Fighting.
Rage like I’ve never felt before burned through me.
I grabbed the piece of shit by the collar and yanked him off her like he weighed nothing.
My fist cracked into his jaw once, then again. The sound was music.
“Who the fuck are you?” he spat, blood already coating his mouth. “What is this slut to you?”
Another punch.
Didn’t even hesitate.
“Who I am doesn’t matter,” I said coldly. “But her?” I glanced at her, then back at him. “She’s my wife. You don’t look at her. You don’t talk to her. And you sure as hell don’t touch her.”
I shoved him toward the door.
“Get Out”
He stumbled out, knocking over a chair, the stench of fear and filth trailing behind him.
Then I turned to her
She was on the ground, clutching her torn shirt, trembling The sight of her like that did something to ine. Broke something.
I dropped to my knees and reached for her slowly
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Chapter 20
She flinched.
“Hey,” I murmured, softer now. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
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When she let me pull her into my arms–let herself break–I didn’t say another word
She didn’t need words.
She needed safety.
And I’d make damn sure she always had it.
I’ve got a mother. I’m surrounded by women I respect.
I’d do the same for any of them.
I held her until the sobs died down, until she pulled back and wiped at her eyes, creating a bit of space between us.
“I’m sorry, I’m really—”
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“You have nothing to apologize for,” I cut in, sharper than I meant. The fact that she even thought she needed to apologize pissed me
off.
*For what exactly?”
She blinked quickly. “T–thank you. Thank you for saving me.”
“I’d do the same for anyone in your position. You don’t have to thank me.”
She nodded. “Can we leave? Please?”
I gave a short nod. “Yeah.”
“I should change. Sorry about your shirt.”
I waved it off. That shirt was one of many. Didn’t matter.
“Take your time.”
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