Sin for Me Page 9

  Except that wasn’t exactly a smart move in the middle of a crowded club.

  Sure, he owned this neighborhood and the police chief was on his side, but even he couldn’t get away with murder. In any case, it would alert Novak to the fact that Gideon suspected he was after Zoe, and Gideon didn’t want to give himself away like that. It was better if Novak thought him complacent, especially if that led to Novak’s getting overconfident and fucking up in some way.

  No, he had to be calm and get Zoe out of here without fuss. Or at the very least without killing the men who were touching her.

  Gideon finished pushing himself out of his chair.

  Tori stared at him in surprise. “Hey? Where are you going?”

  But he ignored her, already walking, shoving his way through the crowd around the dance floor, approaching Zoe and the two assholes on either side of her. She was grinding her hips against them and looking pretty happy with where she was at. She wasn’t going to be pleased with what he was about to do.

  But he didn’t give a shit. She didn’t know who these guys were and he did.

  Not wasting any time, Gideon gave the man pushing against her a hard shove, while he elbowed the guy in front of her. The two men were obviously not expecting it, stumbling away and cursing as they knocked into other dancers.

  Zoe’s eyes flicked open, and she frowned in puzzlement. Then her frown deepened into a scowl as she realized who it was putting a stop to her fun.

  Gideon closed a hand around her elbow and gripped her tightly. “Say good-bye, little one. It’s time to go.” He didn’t look to see what Novak’s men were doing, turning in the direction of the exit and dragging her off the dance floor without a backward glance.

  “Jesus Christ, Gideon!” Her voice was loud in his ear. “What the hell are you doing? This shit is getting really old.” She tried to pull her elbow from his grip, but he was having none of it.

  Second time in a week he was pulling her out of this club. It wasn’t happening again.

  As he went by, he caught a glimpse of Tori staring at him as if he’d lost his mind, but he ignored her. It probably meant calling her for a friendly hookup later wasn’t in the cards, but too bad. Zoe’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

  Fuck, he’d been a fool to let Zoe talk him into bringing her here. He should never have done it, never have said yes. If he hadn’t been watching her like a hawk, those pricks would have taken her and God only knew what would have happened after that.

  No, he knew. He knew exactly.

  “Stop!” Zoe dug her heels in, bringing him up short.

  He turned around sharply.

  They were in the narrow concrete corridor that led from the club to the exit. A blue striplight ran down the walls on either side, bathing the corridor in an eerie glow. People were pushing past them, most going toward the club rather than leaving it.

  Zoe had planted her feet in that stubborn way she had, her skin darker and burnished with sweat in the weird blue light. Through the black lace of her top, the gold bra she wore gleamed, drawing his gaze helplessly.

  She had no idea, Jesus Christ. In her little skirt and top, with her black hair like a cloud around her head and sweat on her skin, her glasses pushed firmly up her nose, she looked like some hipster’s perfect sexual fantasy.

  Except the expression on her face wasn’t seductive in the slightest. It telegraphed mad as hell loud and clear.

  Her golden eyes glittered, her mouth set in a hard line. She raised a hand and there was a moment when he had not the slightest idea what she meant to do with it.

  Until she slapped him across the face.

  The blow turned his head to the side, the sound of her palm against his cheek echoing in the corridor, making people turn to stare at them.

  Shock pulsed through him.

  Fucking hell. She’d hit him. She’d actually hit him.

  He turned his head back to face her. She’d lifted her hand again, but this time he didn’t leave anything to chance, reaching out and grabbing her wrist before she could hit him again, holding on tightly to it.

  His cheek stung, the shock beginning to ebb. Deep inside him something grew very still, very quiet.

  “Have you finished?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

  “No!” Her chin was sticking out, fury in her eyes. “I wanted to stay and dance, you asshole!”

  If he hadn’t known her, he would have thought that this was purely a tantrum. But he did know her and he could see what was beneath all that boiling rage. Fear. Of him.

  She’d never looked at him like that before and he didn’t like it. He was the one person she should never have to be afraid of, not ever. Yet for some reason, she was afraid of him now and he didn’t know why. He’d pulled her off that dance floor to protect her and no, he hadn’t had a chance to explain that yet, but surely she knew that he would never hurt her?

  After you spanked her in the hallway?

  That quiet, still part of him shifted. This had to stop. Whatever it was that was changing things between them had to be dealt with. And soon. Before it broke the relationship they had entirely.

  You know what it is, don’t kid yourself you don’t.

  Yeah. He did.

  “Zoe,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter 7

  Zoe’s hand hurt and she was almost shaking with rage. The last thing she felt like doing was talking. Yet again. Especially when he hadn’t listened to her the first time around.

  But, oh God, she’d hit him. Which was stupid and wrong and she hadn’t meant to at all. She’d just been so . . . angry.

  She’d been enjoying dancing with those two guys. Only, in the privacy of the darkness behind her closed lids, it hadn’t been two strangers she’d been dancing with. She’d been dancing with Gideon.

  It had been his hands she’d imagined on her skin, his heat at her back, or her front, it didn’t matter which.

  He was her go-to fantasy. And when he’d ripped those guys away from her, she’d realized that actually, he would always be her go-to fantasy. That it didn’t matter who she was with or what they were doing, in her head it would always be Gideon.

  Everywhere she went, he was with her, she’d never be able to escape him, and that had been why she’d gotten so angry. She would always want a man who didn’t want her.

  So where did it leave her?

  Nowhere. The same place you’ve always been.

  It went out of her then, all her anger and outraged pride. Because it didn’t matter what she did or how angry she got, nothing changed. So what was the point getting upset about it? What was the point fighting against it?

  Arguing with him only made things worse and certainly made her feel terrible, and after the uncertainty of the past month, with Zee and his father coming down on them, then all this crap with Novak, terrible is not what she wanted to feel.

  So now you’re just going to accept the status quo, like you’ve been doing for years. Nothing will change if you don’t change it.

  Zoe swallowed. Changing it was too hard. Things were better when she didn’t rock the boat.

  His fingers were warm around her wrist, making her feel all kinds of things she didn’t want to feel, so she pulled against his hold. “Let me go.”

  That hard look was still in his eyes, the one that had gathered there when she’d slapped him, making her afraid. Not that he’d hurt her, because she knew he never would, but afraid she’d crossed a line. Broken something that couldn’t be fixed.

  “Are you going to hit me again?” There was no expression in his voice.

  People were walking by, staring at them, and without the anger pumping through her, she was beginning to feel self-conscious and stupid, and a bit shaky.

  “No,” she said thickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “You wanna know why I pulled those guys off you?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “They were Novak’s.”

  She blinked at him in shock, the
last glowing remnants of her anger flickering, then going out. “W-what?”

  “I think you heard me.”

  Her dance partners were Novak’s men? Surely not. They’d seemed like . . . well, like guys who’d wanted to dance with her, not thugs who’d wanted to hurt her. “How do you know they were Novak’s?”

  “I just know.” There was something unfamiliar in his gaze, something dark and cold and utterly certain.

  She swallowed, not wanting to believe him, a part of her wanting to cling to not knowing, wishing she’d never pulled away from him back there on the dance floor. Wishing she’d stayed at his side. Stayed where she was safe and where nothing had changed.

  But it was too late for that.

  “So you know that like you know Novak’s my father and that he’s potentially out to kill me?” She tried for sarcastic yet it came out sounding anxious instead.

  Gideon’s expression betrayed nothing at all. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, ignoring her question. “We’re going home, Zoe. And then we’re going to talk about what the fuck is going on. Understand?”

  A little thrill of fear went through her, though she tried not to show it. “Which particular thing are we going to talk about then? This crap about Novak or . . .” She stopped, suddenly not wanting to say it out loud.

  Gideon clearly had no such issues. “You and me. We’re going to talk about you and me.”

  Shit. Talking about “you and me” was the last thing she wanted to do, but it looked like he wasn’t going to give her any alternative.

  “What about those guys I was dancing with?” she asked, in a last-ditch effort to distract him. “Shouldn’t we be talking about them instead?”

  “No.”

  “No? Just . . . no? After you said I was in danger and that—”

  “Zoe.”

  It was only her name, spoken quietly. Yet there was so much authority in the word, she fell silent.

  He released her wrist and she let it drop, rubbing at it with her other hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment, wanting to offer an apology at least. Because if he was right and those two guys had actually been Novak’s men, then he deserved one. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

  In the weird blue light of the corridor, he looked even darker and more menacing than he had on the dance floor, the blackness of his eyes like the night itself. “You can explain that when we get home.”

  “Gideon, I’m kind of tired and—”

  “Now, Zoe.”

  Without waiting for her to respond, he reached out and grabbed her hand, his warm, strong fingers lacing through hers. Then he turned and began to walk to the exit, leaving her no choice but to walk with him.

  The line outside the club was long and full of yuppies and hipsters all hoping for a gritty night out on the mean streets of Detroit. The neon painted their excited faces in different colors, picking out the broken pavement under their feet, and illuminating the graffiti on the abandoned building across the street.

  The signs of a city that had hit rock bottom and yet was on its way up again. Trash and graffiti and broken buildings, but there was life and color and people having fun all the same.

  It was a pity she couldn’t take part in any of it.

  She followed Gideon down the street, his hand tight around hers, pulling her along. He didn’t speak, keeping his gaze forward, not turning to look at her even once.

  Clearly, he was really pissed with her.

  Is it any wonder? You kicked up a giant tantrum, then slapped him like an outraged virgin. Face it. You’re exactly the child he thinks you are.

  She bit her lip, hurrying to keep up with his much longer strides, trepidation tightening inside her at the thought of their impending “you and me” talk. God, she’d much prefer to push him on how he knew all this stuff about Novak, get some answers at least, not talk about why she’d hit him. There was obviously a reason he refused to tell her how he knew, and she had a feeling it wasn’t good. But hell, she’d rather push that than have to give him the pitiful truth about her own feelings for him. About why she’d hit him and why she was afraid. It was too painful, not to mention pathetic, and she didn’t want it out there. Especially not if he was going to use the same scare tactics on her as he had the last time, up in her bedroom.

  The memory made heat prickle over her skin and her breath catch. Oh hell, she really needed to stop thinking about that.

  Ten minutes later, they were outside the entrance to their building and Gideon was unlocking the doors, pulling her inside. He stayed silent as they went up the stairs to the apartment, but there was an air of intentness about him. Okay, so there was probably no point repeating the fact that she was tired and wanted to go to bed, and could they talk in the morning?

  Sure enough, when they got inside, Gideon pushed her firmly in the direction of the living room. She went with a heart slowly sinking right down into her platform motorcycle boots, her gut churning with a fear she didn’t want to examine too closely.

  Sitting down on the blue velvet couch under the windows, Zoe put her hands in her lap, watching as Gideon came into the room after her, stopping right in front of where she sat and folding his arms. He looked down at her, making her feel even more like a child with his height and the sheer weight of his presence.

  There was a tense silence.

  Then he asked, “Mind telling me what the hell was going on back there?”

  She tried to moisten her dry mouth. “What? With those guys? I was dancing.”

  “I meant you slapping my face.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not good enough.”

  She clasped her hands together, her knuckles white. “Well, if you won’t tell me how you know all this stuff about Novak, even though it’s apparently a life-or-death situation, why should I tell you about what happened back at the club?” It was a stupid thing to push him, especially when he was in this mood, but she couldn’t help herself.

  His expression hardened. “You really wanna push me on this, little girl? Because you might not like it if I push back.”

  No, she had a feeling she wouldn’t. “Okay, okay. I slapped you because I was angry with you for pulling me away from that dance. I was enjoying myself.”

  “Angry enough to hit me?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that, not without exposing herself, so she bit her lip and tried to think of a reply that wouldn’t.

  He stared at her, a strange intensity in his dark eyes. “What’s going on, Zoe? You’re pissed with me but you won’t tell me why.”

  I want you, that’s the problem. I want you and you don’t want me.

  She bit her lip harder, trying to keep the truth safely inside. “I told you why. If you have to keep asking, then perhaps you’re not listening.”

  But he only frowned. “You were afraid of me back there, weren’t you?”

  “I hit you. I wasn’t sure what you’d do.”

  “Bullshit. You know I wouldn’t hurt you, Zoe.”

  “Are you sure? You hurt me last week.” The words came out without her meaning to and as soon as she’d said them, she wished she could take them back. Because now it was out there between them, the moment he’d spanked her butt and then she’d . . .

  She stopped the thought dead and looked down at her hands since that was easier than looking into his strong, dark face. But it didn’t help. She could feel his gaze on her, boring into her with the intensity of a laser beam.

  There was another long, hideous silence.

  “I know what you want, Zoe.” His voice was quiet, all the hard edges softening. “I know why you’re so pissed with me. I was just hoping you’d tell me yourself.”

  She closed her eyes, her heart squeezing tight in her chest. Please don’t say it. Please don’t.

  “It can’t happen—you know that, right?” He sounded sympathetic and gentle and in that moment she didn’t know who she hated more, him for saying it or herself for not hi
ding it well enough.

  “What can’t happen?” Even now she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it to him.

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “No, I really don’t—” A finger caught her beneath her chin, tipping her head up and there he was, crouched down in front of her, the look in his dark eyes inescapable.

  “You and me, Zoe,” he said, his voice still impossibly gentle. “I’m talking about you and me.”

  The lump in her throat swelled up so it felt like she couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. But she had to say something. “I know.” It came out sounding petulant and not at all cool and calm liked she’d hoped. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry. Maybe I had a crush on you a while back, but it’s over now, okay?” She swallowed and pulled her head away. “Are we finished? I’m tired and I really want to go to bed.”

  “No, we’re not finished.” He didn’t move. “We need to sort this out, because I can’t afford for us to be fighting all the time, not with Novak possibly looking for you. We need to be working together on this.”

  “Which really means you telling me what to do.”

  The look on his face hardened again. “Zoe. This is the sort of shit I’m talking about. You treating this situation like it’s something I’m doing to you personally. This isn’t about me telling you what to do, this is about keeping you safe, for fuck’s sake.”

  Anger and a kind of despair turned over inside her. “You always say that. You always say it’s about keeping me safe. But you won’t tell me how you know I’m in danger and I don’t understand why you. Surely you’ve got better things to do than to keep watch over me?”

  “I’m watching over you because you’re my kid sister. Because I’m responsible for you.”

  Kid sister. Yeah, he had to say it, didn’t he? Had to rub it in, make it worse. And of course he didn’t answer the other question either, the question as to how he knew she was in danger from Novak.

  She looked away again, unable to bear the expression in those dark, magnetic eyes of his. “Fine,” she said dully. “I’ll stay here. Be a good little girl and do everything you say.”