Page 11 of The Gangster's Girl
“Rules are rules. Clay sends his wishes.”
Knees weakening, I let out a pant. It’s Clay who sent them. Locking eyes with Ronnie and Robbie, I squirm when they charge for me again, whispering, “Don’t. Let me go.”
They stop in their tracks. They know. They know what’s in my heart and they know Clay won’t budge. He never backs down when he wants something. Fighting him to begin with was useless.
“Stay safe,” Ronnie whispers and Robbie squeezes his fists but he doesn’t do anything.
“Bugs...,” he croaks and tears prickle my eyes as I’m dragged off. I wish things had been different and that he had accepted Clay’s formal request. He refused and these are the consequences
“Bye dad,” I whisper and it’s the first time I’ve ever called him that. A lump forms in my throat as I’m pulled into a car and looking back, I watch the trailer park become smaller and smaller.
“Look straight ahead,” the men sitting beside me orders and I take a deep breath. “Your old life is behind you. You’re Clay’s now.”
Wrong. I wasalwaysClay’s.
****
Stumbling up to Clay’s mansion, I blink at the foyer lights when I’m pushed inside. My jaw drops when Clay comes down the staircase, looking ready to do murder. “Watch how the fuck you handle her,” he growls, shoving at the man who brought me to him.
“Orders were to deliver her and that’s what I did. Besides, this was just a favor and not something we owe you.”
Clay’s jaw clenches and he takes a step closer to the man. “You could’ve at least let her put her shoes on.” His mouth snaps. “Get out.”
The man leaves, along with two others and my eyes dart to Clay. He’s not looking at me, his brow furrowed and a couple of buttons in his shirt are open. My heart sinks when I realize how troublesome he looks, because he’s the kind who wants things to go smoothly.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he murmurs, “I’m sorry about that. Didn’t mean for things to go this way.”
Swallowing, I murmur, “Who are they?”
“Old friends of mine.”
Oh sure. “They don’t look very friendly,” I say and Clay flexes his jaw.
“They are, trust me. Don’t worry about them.”
He doesn’t want to talk to about it, doesn’t think it’s appropriate for my ears. Yeah...there’s that overprotectiveness again. I wrap my arms around me. “You always tell me what to do and I always listen, don’t I?”
Finally his eyes go to mine and they’re deep and stirring with emotions I’ve never seen in a face before. I don’t even think I could name them all. They’re too grownup, too unfamiliar and a slow burning fire sizzles in me at the thought of seeing what he feels for me in his eyes again and again until it becomes familiar.
“You should. I’ll always have your best interest at heart.” He hisses and cups my cheek. “Forgive me if they were too rough for you or if it made you skittish.”
“At first it did,” I whisper, licking my lips and Clay winces, “when I didn’t know why they were there but then they said they would bring me to you.”
Clay’s eyes darken. “How did you feel then?”
I drag a breath. “Wanted.”
And I still feel wanted. Giddy when Clay clasps my hand and I inertly follow him into the living room. Everything goes fine until he drops my hand and I realize I’m actually alone with him. I’ve never been alone with him and I’m dressed in close to nothing. Clay seems very methodical about the whole thing, keeping his eyes to himself before sitting down on the chaise.
“Come sit in my lap,” he orders gently and I flush. I feel like tugging at my nightgown but if I do I’ll probably flash him my underwear and I bite my lip. Something dark covers his eyes and he frowns. “You’re not wary of your uncle Clay are you?”
I shake my head. I don’t care what business he’s involved in. To me he’s just a man I’ll always accept no matter what. Crossing the floor, I sit down in his lap and I can barely breathe. It gets even worse when he strokes my hair from my face and watches me as if he never before noticed how many colors there are in one sunset. He takes in every little detail of mine and his eyes say it doesn’t matter how many colors one sunset has.
They still pale in comparison to me.
“I shouldn’t have ripped you out of bed like that.” He swiftly glances at my nightgown. “I should’ve waited until morning but I couldn’t last the night with you.”
My lips curve. “You’re a poor loser.”