Theirs to Corrupt (Titans Captivated #5)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tessa

“Ready?” Pax asks, his voice gentle.

A few moments ago, Torin stopped the SUV near my apartment building.

I’ve dreaded arriving here since we dropped Link back off at his office.

But I want to get my things.

“Tessa?” he prompts.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nod.

Mira unfastens her safety belt and opens the rear door.

Pax exits before me and then offers his hand.

I’m not nearly as apprehensive with him as I am Link. Why, I’m not sure. He’s every bit as threatening as his boss. Maybe more so.

He closes his hand around mine.

With Mira in front of me and Pax on my heel, we climb the stairs to the second-story unit.

As we approach the door, I see the first signs of the break-in.

The door frame is splintered, and some wood fragments litter the concrete.

My heart races as Pax pushes the door open.

The sight that greets me sucks the air from my lungs. This apartment had been a refuge, a space Natalie and I tried so hard to make into a home. Now it looks like something out of a war zone.

The couch is overturned, its cushions slashed open and its stuffing oozing out. The coffee table is shattered.

Without a word, Pax follows me inside and closes the door, with Mira keeping watch outside.

In the kitchen, drawers hang open, and all our silverware and utensils are strewn across the vinyl floor. Shards of broken dishes litter every surface.

The devastation is impossible to take in.

Numb, my legs wooden, I move into the bedroom.

The drawers to my small dresser are in pieces. Clothes that once hung in my closet have been ripped from hangers and are strewn about like confetti.

My bed has been destroyed, the mattress knifed apart like the couch. “Oh God.” I collapse against the wall as tears sting my eyes.

This apartment wasn’t much—a small place in a not-so-great area—but it was the place I started over. It was supposed to be my safe haven. “I thought I was prepared.”

“You couldn’t have been.” His eyes are dark, ominous.

“This…” Knowing I need to be strong and wanting to get the hell out of here as quick as possible, I push away from the wall. “I’ve never had a break-in before.” Nothing seems to be missing. “Is this usual?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

“What aren’t you saying?” I ask, dreading the answer but needing to know.

He hesitates, and he frowns. “Tessa…”

“You can’t protect me from everything,” I say, my voice stronger than I feel. “Please, just tell me.”

“This is extreme.” Pax sighs, running a hand through his hair. “They were looking for something specific. A clue to your whereabouts, most likely.”

There’s fury in this kind of destruction.

Was it my brother? One of the henchmen from last night? The man they sold me to?

I shudder, wrapping my arms around myself. Earlier I had protested the need for three bodyguards, arguing that it was overkill. Now, standing in the ruins of my life, it doesn’t feel like nearly enough. Can anything truly protect me from this level of determination?

With shaking hands, I gather what few clothes I can salvage, but most of my belongings are beyond repair.

In the shared bathroom, my toiletries have been smashed, leaving nothing usable.

As I load my meager belongings into a garbage bag, I feel utterly violated.

“We should go,” Pax says softly, his hand warm on my shoulder. “We’ll stop and get you some essentials on the way back.”

Unable to think, I tie the red drawstring and follow him to the front door.

Then I stop. “I need to clean up this place.” Especially if I’m never coming back.

“I’ll handle it.”

“But…” I look around. Where would I even start?

“Hawkeye has experience with this kind of thing.”

I hate that I’m okay with his suggestion.

I don’t feel safe here, and I never want to come back again. “Thank you.”

Pax takes the plastic sack from me and pulls the door closed behind us.

Sadness overcomes me.

Over the last couple of months, I’d started to let my guard down. I had a job I liked, a good friend, and the boy I loved babysitting.

Now, for a second time, I’m walking away from everything I know. And I need to let Serena know I can’t take care of Miguel ever again.

“You okay?”

Since there’s a lump lodged in my throat, I remain silent.

Within a minute, we’re pulling out of the parking lot, and I don’t look back.

Torin drives us to a nearby drugstore, and Mira shadows us inside, staying close and ever vigilant.

I shop for a few cosmetics and other necessities.

Pax pays.

I’m mentally keeping a tally of what I owe the men, but at this point, the amount they’ve spent is in the five figures.

Since I don’t even know when I can return to work, the debt is enormous. I shove aside the awful, niggling voice that says maybe I’ll never be able to have a job again.

On the drive back to Link’s house—my new home, I suppose—Mira yawns.

Long day for them, and I have no idea if they even had the opportunity to eat. More guilt heaps on top of me.

“Coffee run?” Torin suggests to Mira.

“Please,” she responds.

The thought of something warm, rich, soothing appeals to me. “Me too,” I murmur, surprising myself by speaking up.

What’s another seven dollars on top of what I already owe Link and Pax?

In the rearview mirror, Torin catches Pax’s eyes. He nods his ascent.

Apparently grabbing coffee is a potential risk.

Mira orders a straight-forward beverage, lots of caffeine, no sugar. Maybe because she’s working?

My mocha-and-caramel concoction is amazing, but after a couple of sips, I stare at the lid, and my mind reels, replaying the horror of the last twenty-four hours. Twenty-four? Maybe closer to twenty.

We arrive back at the house. Mira carries in the garbage bag filled with my belongings, and I carry the paper bag filled with things I bought at the drug store.

Link walks into the kitchen and stops near the counter. Though he’s in dress slacks and a shirt, he’s taken off his tie and suit coat.

He’s more approachable, drop-dead gorgeous.

My heart rate soars.

Glass of wine in hand, he sweeps his gaze over me.

Maybe my exhausted mind is playing tricks on me, but I’m certain he lingers on that spot he kissed, and my skin seems to tingle all over again.

Nervously I slide my cup onto the counter and hang my purse from the back of one of the barstools.

A bottle of wine is open on the kitchen counter, two empty glasses next to it. After the day I’ve had, the sight of it is almost too tempting to resist.

“Anything else tonight?” Torin asks.

“Food,” Pax says. He looks at everyone. “Pizza?”

Despite my filling lunch and the coffee with enough calories to fuel me for days, the idea of melty cheese and crispy pepperoni makes my mouth water.

Since I ran away from Chicago, I haven’t been able to afford anything other than the paper-thin frozen variety from the grocery store.

Everyone nods enthusiastically, and Pax calls in an order and includes a pan of chocolate chip cookies as well.

A few minutes later, Mira and Torin head back out to pick up our dinner.

“Not allowing any deliveries onto the property,” Pax explains.

Another reminder of how mad my life has become.

“Wine?” Link asks.

“Thank you.” I tuck my leftover coffee into the refrigerator.

The red wine is rich and flavorful, and the effects seem to go straight to my head.

Pax and Link talk, and I perch on a barstool and listen. Already I have a favorite place to sit in the kitchen.

As Torin and Mira arrive back home, Pax opens a cabinet and removes several plates.

“Can I help?” I offer, needing to do something useful. The pampered princess role I’ve been thrust into is so unusual, and it doesn’t suit me.

Pax shakes his head. “After we’re back from Vegas, you can.”

The reminder of our impending trip—our wedding—sends a jolt through me. The day after tomorrow, I’ll be married to not one, but two men?

Mira and Torin pass on the invitation to eat with us and instead carry their own box out of the house.

Instead of getting back into the SUV, they continue walking past the pool to the guest house. “They’re staying on the property?”

“Having them close by is essential,” Pax says.

The aroma of melted cheese and spicy pepperoni fills the air as we settle around the kitchen island, pizza boxes spread before us. Despite the comfort food, tension hangs heavy in the room. I’m hyperaware of Link’s presence beside me. His arm occasionally brushes mine as he reaches for another slice.

Suddenly, Pax’s phone chirps. He glances at the screen, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, moving away from us.

I don’t even pretend to focus on my food. Instead I turn toward him and eavesdrop.

My heart stops when I hear him ask, “Marge?”

The slice of pizza slips from my fingers, landing with a soft plop on my plate. “Pax?”

But he pays me no attention. His expression is dark, unreadable, and his body is tight, poised for action.

After he ends the call, he immediately dials another number. This time, I leave my chair and walk over to him, desperate to hear more. Only one word reaches me clearly. “Inamorata.”

My mind races. Inamorata? Isn’t that Italian for…sweetheart? Beloved? What does that have to do with Marge?

“Need cleanup at the Rusty Nail,” Pax says tersely into the phone.

Cleanup? A chill runs down my spine. In movies, cleanup usually means.…

No.

Refusing to think like that, I shake my head.

As Pax ends the call, I reach out, gripping his wrist. “What’s going on? Is Marge okay?”

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of sympathy before the professional mask slips back into place. He nods once. “She’s fine.”

Relief floods through me, quickly followed by a new wave of dread. “Then…” Someone else isn’t?

And why did she call Pax?

Is this something related to me?

Pax doesn’t answer. Instead he turns to Link, his gaze hard. “You got this?”

Link nods, and a silent understanding seems to pass between them.

As Pax shrugs into his motorcycle jacket, my world tilts off its axis once again. He makes another call, this time to Torin, updating the couple on the situation.

Moments later, Mira and Torin arrive at the main house.

“I’ll show you to the security room,” Link says to the couple.

Security room?

Until now, I didn’t know he had one.

Not that it should be a surprise. Link and Pax don’t seem to leave anything to chance.

“I’ll roll with you,” Torin says to Pax.

His reply is clipped. “I’ll be faster alone. On my bike.”

“You don’t know what’s out there,” Torin replies.

In the end, Pax agrees to go with Mira in the SUV while Torin stays with us.

“Call Inamorata for more backup,” he tells Torin. Then he indicates his head toward the driveway. “Let’s go.”

Torin and Mira exchange glances, and a thousand unspoken words pass between them.

Judging by the concern in Torin’s eyes, I wonder if there’s something more than a professional partnership between the two.

Suddenly me and Link are alone with Torin, and once the sound of the vehicle fades into the distance, the house seems to echo with silence. A chill slides down my spine.

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with a thousand times before,” Torin reassures me with a half smile.

Mobsters? Abductions? My virginity being sold?

Not comforted, I rub my arms, trying to warm up.

Link shows Torin to the security room. Then, when he’s back, he says, “Come here.”

I’m so exhausted, overwrought, that I barely register what he says.

But then he crosses to me, wrapping me in a strong embrace and easing me against his broad chest.

The emotional dam I’ve built since the night I found out Axel’s plans bursts. With gasping sobs, I finally cry.

Even though I’m soaking his crisp white shirt, he doesn’t let me go.

His heart thumps steadily beneath my ear, a reassuring rhythm. One of his hands strokes my back in soothing circles while the other cradles the back of my head.

“Lean on me,” he encourages, his breath warm against my hair.

I’ve spent a long time relying only on myself. And the idea of counting on someone else—especially someone like Link—is terrifying. And yet…

Despite my intentions, I melt against him, drawing strength from his solid presence.

I breathe in deeply, inhaling his scent—a mixture of confidence and pure masculine power. Though it shouldn’t be, the combination is comforting.

As my tears subside, I slowly pull back, looking up at him. The way he studies me makes my breath catch. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed by my breakdown. “Your shirt…”

He shakes his head, cutting off my apology. “Not necessary.” His voice is gruff but soft.

Slowly he brings up a hand to brush a strand of hair from my face.

His touch sends tingles across my skin, and I look up to meet his blue eyes. There’s emotion in their depths that I’ve never seen before. Admiration? Desire?

Surely I’m imagining things.

“Don’t apologize, Tessa. You’re the strongest, most resourceful woman I’ve ever met. What’s happened in the last twenty-four hours would destroy a lesser person.”

With his thumb, he traces my cheekbone, wiping away the last of my tears. My heart races as he leans in slightly, and his gaze drops to my lips.

Are you going to kiss me?

Will I let you?