Page 20 of Psycho Saints
"You'll be safe. There'll be guards right outside the door, and we'll be watching. Julian and I will be nearby. If you feel in danger, just yell for us."
"Julian was there last time," I spat the reminder. "Cristian warned me against calling for him. Said he'd make it worse."
"Cristian will never truly put you in harm's way. I believe that, hurt you, yes, but that's the way he is. Actually put your life in danger, no."
I sighed, hating the truth in his words. Cristian's mind was a mess, but he had a twisted softness for me. He'd shown that a few times now, but his need to hurt me was still present.
"He wants to meet you back at the apartment," Tyrone continued. "I'll be upstairs with Julian. We're nearby, and you will be safe. You have our word."
My chest tightened with unease, a familiar knot of dread settling in the pit of my stomach. I could feel my heart racing, pounding against my ribcage like a caged animal desperate for escape. "It sounds like I don't really have a choice, do I?" I muttered, knowing at the end of the day, the brothers danced to their own drumbeat.
"I think it's worth hearing him out. But if you really don't want to, then I will send him away," Tyrone said slowly, surprising me.
He'd send his brother away again? That also meant he was already at the apartment. I swallowed down the dryness in my mouth as I contemplated it. Cristian had done something horrendous, and then attacked me on top of it. Forgiving him was not something I could just do, but if I was pregnant with his child…
Fuck. I groaned and massaged the bridge of my nose. Hearing him out and giving him one last chance was something I needed to consider.
"Fine. But this is his last chance. If he does anything, I swear to god…" I let the words hang, not even sure what I'd do. I could stab him again, but he'd probably just announce his love for me once more after the last time.
"I understand." Tyrone's voice held a hint of relief, and my lip quirked. To think the logical leader of the brothers was now listening to me had me snorting internally. How the tables had turned.
The line clicked off, and I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, as I steeled myself for whatever awaited me back at the apartment.
What could he possibly hope to say to try to repair even a touch of what he'd done?
As the car pulled up to the apartment building, my heart raced, and I stared down at my hands as the engine cut off and the guard opened my door. I stepped out, my legs feeling like lead as I made my way inside. The elevator ride seemed to take an eternity, each floor bringing me closer to a confrontation I wasn't sure I was ready for. One guard remained with me, a silent protector ordered to defend me by the great Tyrone Silvestri himself. It didn't ease me all that much, especially since I knew how wild Cristian could be. One man would stand no chance.
The elevator dinged as it reached the penthouse, and my heart fluttered as the doors opened.
I stepped out of the elevator, my breath catching in my throat as I took in the sight before me. The entire lower floor of the apartment was transformed, strewn with roses and petals, candles flickering everywhere. The soft glow created an intimate atmosphere that made my heart race for all the wrong reasons.
And there he stood, Cristian, looking far too good in a black suit that hugged his frame perfectly. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight of him, his blond hair slightly tousled, those deep brown eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin tingle. The candlelight cast shadows across his angular features, accentuating the dangerous allure that seemed to radiate from him. I couldn't help but notice how the suit emphasized his broad shoulders and lean physique, a reminder of the raw power he possessed. Despite my better judgment, I felt a flutter in my stomach, a mix of anticipation and fear that only Cristian could evoke in me, and a traitorous hint of attraction.
For a moment, neither of us moved, until he blinked, and his lip pulled into the faintest smile.
"I've organized dinner," he said, his voice low and hopeful. "Even made dessert myself."
I narrowed my eyes, caution creeping in. "You want to talk?"
He nodded, extending his hand. "Will you join me?"
Hesitantly, I followed him to the table, purposely ignoring his outstretched hand. A flicker of hurt crossed his face, but he remained silent.
As he pulled out my chair, I couldn't help but quip, "I'm a bit underdressed for all this."
"You look perfect," he murmured, his eyes roaming over me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. I fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, instead forcing myself to meet his eyes with a defiant stare.
We sat in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering emotions. Finally, Cristian broke the quiet, his voice softer than I expected. "You should try the food, kitten. It's from a renowned chef in the area, specially for you."
I glanced down at the fancy meal before me, an elaborate array of colors and textures that looked more like art than dinner. Despite the knots twisting in my stomach, the aroma was enticing, wafting up and teasing my senses. Deciding to at least taste it, if only to have something to do besides endure Cristian's piercing stare, I took a small bite. The flavors exploded on my tongue, a deliciousness I wasn't about to make clear with him watching me with bated breath.
Cristian began to eat as well, but I could barely focus on the food as I found myself staring at him, torn as my emotions roiled. My stomach twisted uncomfortably in his presence, a reminder of everything that had transpired between us.
He set down his fork midway through, those dark eyes catching mine and holding them.
"I'm sorry."
I blinked, the words slicing through the tense silence like a sharp blade, words I wasn't sure I'd ever hear, especially not from him. My heart, already a frantic drumbeat in my chest, skipped a rhythm at the unexpected softness in Cristian's voice. It was a strange contrast to the darkness that usually danced in his deep brown eyes, havoc that mirrored my own tumultuous soul. I found myself holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the world to tilt back into its familiar, frenzied spin. But there he was, the man who called me 'kitten', the man who baked to soothe his demons, offering me an olive branch in the form of two simple words that held the weight of the world.