He’s back in minutes with a freshly styled do that adds to that groomed perfection of his as he pulls his
jacket on one sleeve. Body emphasised by what he’s wearing and I am instantly drawn like a magnet to
look at him. My eyes scan impulsively, immediately to the one thing that stands severely out of place,
and causes an instant nervousness deep down in my gut; A tight chokehold on my stomach.
‘Why are you carrying tonight?’ I nod towards the holster under his armpit, face dropping as
seriousness hits me to dampen my libido. His gun on show and he just ignores me and continues
putting on his jacket smoothly to cover it up. Something in my stomach swirls with unease, nerves
rising as suspicion hits me and I move closer to him.
‘Alexi? You never carry when you’re going to dinner. Why are you taking a gun?’ Sixth sense has all my
alarms firing and my palms get instantly sweaty as nerves eat away at me. Something deep down
alerting me to this one detail and I can’t shake it away; A deep achy unease of something being wrong.
I have watched him come and go from this club, been with him at dinners, parties and such … he
NEVER carries when he goes to these things. That’s why he has security with him instead.
‘Sometimes I do.’ He avoids my eyes, voice strained and husky as he tries to dismiss me and I know
it’s a lie. I can tell. I don’t know how but I do. In all the months of knowing him, never being able to
second guess when he’s honest, yet right now, I just know. It kicks me low down with a fresh pang of
pain.
‘Is Mico going with you?’ my voice is higher, hints of anxiety peeking up as I get more internally
hysterical, and he is doing his best to avoid me, dodging me as I follow him around like a persistent
child. He walks away from me to use the mirror for his final check on appearance as he rights his jacket
and buttons it up carefully.
‘Of course,’ he answers flatly and that just tips me over. The complete obvious in what he just said.
Mico is going with him!
Mico is ALWAYS armed for this reason. Meaning he has no need of this unless his gut is telling him
otherwise. Something in him telling him he needs extra protection tonight.
I swear everything inside of me turns to instant stone and grips me coldly. My lip trembles as I am hit
full force with a wave of gut-wrenching concern for his safety, so strong I can almost taste it.
‘What kind of dinner? With who? Where?’ I question like the Gestapo, getting more and more worked
up, my voice straining with emotion as he tries to get around me and sighs as I block his path. Getting
in his way and hindering his progress.
‘You’re making me late.’ He says calmly, a little hint of a sigh but not annoyance. Alexi isn’t getting
pissed with my behaviour, which means I have hit on something truthful and it only serves to make me
worse. He moves me with gentle hands on my shoulder, but I grip onto one of them as he goes to
leave, and cling on tightly.
‘Alexi stop it … You’re scaring me … You don’t carry a gun, EVER, when you go out to these things. If
you feel something that tells you that you need it, then don’t go … stay with me. Stay here.’ I beg him,
tears hitting me from nowhere, terror clutching at my insides cruelly; twisting my guts all up into knots
with danger bells ringing in my head deafeningly. I can barely catch my breath.
Alexi just stops and turns his eyes to mine, slowly inhaling and pulls me close to him with a sense of
complete calmness. Facially against him, so our body heat meets, but I’m too wound up to get any
other reaction. His whole manner is that of the guy who cuddled me after finding Feral—softly, softly.
I don’t trust it one bit.
‘I know what I’m doing. This is my world.’ He leans in and kisses me on the forehead, unexpectedly
tender and lingers for a second, while I breathe him in and close my eyes at the forbidden touch
between us. He throws me completely off guard and I can’t stand it anymore, eyes flashing open as my
brain connects the dots with a more intense agony.
It’s too weird … it’s too much like a ‘goodbye’ for my liking and I don’t let him go; both hands on his
wrist as he tries to walk out and I hold with all my might. I dig my heels in and don’t care if I am acting
like an insane person. I won’t let him walk out that door. Every instinct is telling me he shouldn’t leave.
‘You’re not going. I won’t let you … in fact … if you go … if you leave … I’ll never forgive you. Ever! I’ll
pack my bags and run away, I’ll go somewhere you can never find me and screw your stupid club.’ I
start crying. Words tumbling out in a rambling mess of shaking voice and trembling limbs, gripping on
with everything I have in me as he tries to pry my hands from him without hurting me. Panicking while
Alexi looks surprised at my venomous threats and stops in his endeavours to get me off him. He
swallows noticeably as he returns that pale, calm gaze to my face and stops me fighting with a gentle
stroke across my face, moving hair from my damp cheek.
‘Careful baby, I might think you care.’ He smiles softly, a gentle look in his eyes as he traces a tear from
my skin with his thumb and wipes it away carefully. Distracted by him, he manages to slide his arm out
of my hold and I just shake my head desperately.
It calms my internal chaos for just a fraction of a moment; enough that he manages to get space
between us while I’m stunned at the tenderness of his action. Then fear grips me as he turns and walks
away quickly, knowing he needs to go before I grab him again. He moves fast and doesn’t look back.
‘Alexi, don’t …’ I croak, voice cracking as I impulsively run after him into the hall, he walks right into the
open lift before turning and stopping me from following him with a raised palm. He looks tense, not
angry or agitated, just pleading, with an expression that makes me want to wrap myself around him and
never let him out of my sight.
‘Trust me. I’m coming back.’ It’s all he utters, and I stand sobbing and clinging to myself, hugged by my
own arms which aren’t comforting. The door slides shut between us and I start to hyperventilate as it all
comes crashing in on me. That sense of complete emotional breakdown because he’s not listening and
I feel like everything is spiralling out of my control.
I run to the button and press it hard, over and over in a bid to get it open once more, or one of the two
lifts to open up. All I can see is his one going down on the counter under the button. With every second
my internal angst intensifies. I can’t breathe properly, gasping and panting as I shiver and shake.
‘Don’t you fucking dare, Alexi!!!’ I scream at the chrome doors, blinded by my tears, willing him to listen,
even if he’s already gone.
‘Don’t leave me!’ I sob as I claw at them in a bid to open them manually, but they still take an age.
My heart hammers inside of me as something tells me he knows he’s walking into a trap. He knows
something, which means, tonight, he may not have a choice but to be armed. He has a sixth sense and
truly knows this world, so if he believes something is amiss and is taking extra precautions for his own
safety, it means something really bad is going on. In his world—bad means something along the lines
of most normal people’s nightmares. Bad means Alexi is in really deep shit … Which means there’s a
chance he may not ever come home.
I can’t think straight. My mind falling into pieces of broken shards and shambles around my feet and I
try to pull myself together, try to be rational about this.
I wish I didn’t love him … I wish I didn’t care, but my heart is shredding and when the dumb door finally
opens I throw myself in without hesitation. Stabbing the G button with a force that almost cracks my
nail, and I start pacing frantically as I wait for it to move. Clawing at my hair as it finally slides shut and
feels like it takes hours to descend to the lower floors.
I dash out in frantically, no shoes on, looking a fright with makeup dripping off my chin amid a torrent of
tears, and can only see the normal floor security milling around as the back-door swings shut painfully
slow because of its safety hinges.
He must have already gone out and I run, pushing past them manically, as I get startled looks, yanking
it open and pull myself out into the darkness, assaulted by the cool night air. I can only see the
backlights, glowing red in the darkness, of Mico’s car leaving—too far to be stopped and already out of
the gate. My mind scrambling into high alert mode, and I wonder if I can get to the front door to stop
them in the street before they get any further.
I turn, mind set on hell-bent crazy and desperate to just stop him in any way I can, and run smack bang
into Jackson. It’s like hitting a warm padded wall at force and I gasp in stunned shock as a minor ache
hits my whole body with the collision. I am still sobbing and acting like a crazy lady as he catches hold
of me.
‘Miss Camilla, what’s wrong?’ He gives me a weird hug, fully capturing my limp form as he holds me
still, calming my flailing limbs and keeping me rooted to the spot.
‘We have to stop him … Something’s wrong … I can feel it. Alexi needs to come back.’ It’s out in a
whoosh of broken, breathy, tear-laden words as I swallow and choke trying to get them out, and
Jackson’s face tightens. A calm coming over him as he seems to understand exactly what I mean and
nods in a very soft and fatherly way at me, while patting my back gently. My body is straining and
buzzing with energy to run after Alexi, but he’s not letting me.
‘He knows what he is doing, don’t ever question that. Alexi has more instinct for things than any of us,
so he wouldn’t go if he didn’t know what he was walking into.’ He squeezes me reassuringly. Still a tight
grip, but I shake my head, brushing away his sense and sniffing back a gulp of even more tears.
‘He’s stubborn and pig-headed and sometimes blinded by it. His luck has to run out one day. I need to
stop him.’ I wail it at him but Jackson turns me, coercing me into his arm, pushing aside my fight as he
slides it around me and walks me back to the lift forcefully.
‘He’s surrounded by men who would take a bullet for him any day of the week. He has nothing to worry
about,’ he soothes kindly.
‘Then why does he need a gun with him?’ I baulk desperately.
‘Sometimes he likes to have an extra layer of security. You know him, Miss Camilla; he is always two
steps ahead and sees everything coming. He’s going to be just fine!’
Jackson is calming the worst of my hysteria as logic starts to move in and unfog my brain, knowing he
is right … In this anyway.
Alexi is what he is because of his crazy skill at reading situations and people, and always being ahead
of his game. He’s ruthless, but he’s clever. He wouldn’t walk into a trap without all his avenues being
covered and Jackson is right. He is known for overplaying the safety factor. It’s why he is still breathing.
It’s why he suffocates me with security and over protectiveness.
‘He told me to make sure you stayed put … To take care of you. Let’s get you upstairs and a drink to
calm you down. Alexi will be back by ten or eleven, and you will see for yourself, everything’s fine.’ He
is trying so hard to bring back my sanity with soft talk and gentle pats on my shoulder and I stop
fighting him, somewhere in my head, I start to listen. Needing this reassurance so badly as nausea
circles and swishes my stomach to death. I sniff and brush away the tears, blinking at him in utter
vulnerable defeat, clinging to his words.
‘He told you to make me stay? To take care of me?’ I blubber, wiping my cheek with the back of my
hand. Jackson nods and I know that Alexi must have known I would follow him down in the state I was
in. Stopping me—which only adds fuel to my unease, but I am trying to self-calm before I turn myself
inside out with my own over thinking.
‘Mico and Daniels are with him, and he has taken extra men tonight. Two cars … eight men. He’s
playing safe and he’s got everyone armed just in case. He knows how to handle this business. He’s
had a lifetime doing it.’ Jackson’s words are starting to filter through, making sense of my manic panic
and I take long deep breaths, tilting my face up to him very childlike—my voice fragile.
‘Really? You really think so?’ I ask him meekly when the doors slide on us and we are held in the small
lift as it starts to move.
‘He plays safe … if he thought he was in real danger, he would never go. He has an ego but he’s not
stupid. This business is bigger than him and he knows it. He knows there are people who rely on him
being here, so he wouldn’t deliberately throw himself in harm’s way. It’s not how we Carreros operate.’
Jackson is doing a good job of bringing me down, but I am still so completely overwhelmed with the
tightening knots of anxiety that are pushing my heart rate to painful rates.
‘Maybe I should call him … to be sure.’ I nod at him erratically, seeking permission, not really inside my
own mind and grasping stupidly. I may not have been able to stop him leaving but I can talk to him,
hear his voice, and convince him to come back.
‘Maybe, just to put your mind at ease; Get yourself to calm down if he tells you himself, he’s fine—He
will be fine. He always is.’ Jackson gives me a small squeeze, I guess to add weight to his words and I
swallow down the last of my over emotional outburst.
‘Right … You’re right. I’m being stupid. I don’t need you to come in.’ I nod again letting him go as we
open on the apartment floor and give myself a shake. Calmer head on calling Alexi and just trying to
stop acting like some irrational psycho having a weird meltdown.
He’s right. This is Alexi’s world … he’s king player for a reason, and I’m sure his gut instincts are a lot
better than mine. In fact, I know it. He’s a cold killer with a quick mind and sadistic streak. I know that
more than anyone. He’s a name of foreboding for a reason, and he’s made it to thirty-two years old
without once coming close to death, as far as I know.
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