s t e l l a n
Stellan could hear the music bumping before they even entered the club.
For some reason, there was an unsettled feeling in his stomach. He had been to clubs before, but never with a girl he really liked, especially when she just happened to look finer than sin.
And on top of that, there was already a constant feeling of looking over his shoulder for Brett or any other of his former gang buddies. They could be anywhere and everywhere, and it made him constantly nervous. He feared that they would be on the run forever; that was a prison of its own.
Stellan opened the door for Everly and followed her in. They were immediately hit with a blast of upbeat music and a roaring crowd. He could practically see her bouncing up and down in excitement. When she turned to look at him, the excitement on her face mellowed a bit. His heart sank.
He wished she would have let him explain earlier. He didn't pull away because he didn't like the kiss. No, quite the opposite. He almost couldn't stop kissing her.
He wanted her. Too much. Too soon. They had known each other for a total of about seventy-two hours, and there he was, all but flinging himself at her.
But more than that, he didn't want her to think she owed him anything. If she had kissed him for some twisted way of thanking him, he wouldn't be able to live with it. He would gladly make the escape all over again just to show her that he would do it for her.
And now that they attempted to take things to the next level, he didn't want her to go in with any feelings of obligation.
But now as she walked ahead of him, he regretted not saying something earlier. The way her hips swayed in that tight red dress stirred an unfamiliar feeling in his chest.
She turned to him and offered him a small smile. "Can we get a drink?" she asked, with a cool, detached tone to her voice. Not the warm tone from earlier, when she'd told him she was willing to fly away with him... to anywhere, as long as he was there.
He nodded and put his hand on the small of her back to lead her to the bar. She flinched at his touch, and he felt his heart splinter. I've really fucked this up, he thought. When they reached the bar, she requested a Cosmo and he ordered a whiskey neat.
He held up his glass to her in a toast. "Here's to settling down for a bit," he said, and she raised her glass and clinked it with his.
"Cheers," she said quietly, taking a large swig of the reddish-pink liquid.
He pulled out a bar stool for her and gestured for her to sit. It was the only empty spot at the bar, so when she sat, he leaned on the back of the chair, his elbows bent. At this angle, he was incredibly close to her, and he could smell her vanilla lotion, and as he glanced down, he noticed how delicate her collarbone was under the thin straps of her dress. His heart sped up and he downed his whiskey, asking the bartender for another.
She finished her drink quickly and motioned for another. He watched her knock it back and felt a pang in his stomach. He hoped she wasn't trying to forget what had transpired between them. He didn't want to forget the fire that erupted within his soul when their lips met.
She set the glass down with a clink and looked up at him, her eyes glassy. He could tell she was getting tipsy, and he felt a strong urge to protect her–to make sure no one in this packed room took advantage of her. He slid his arm around the back of her chair, following the curve as he leaned in toward her. "You okay, Ev?"
She nodded, leaning into his arm. He hoped that was her way of showing she forgave him.
Two drinks later and he felt more confident. The music was pulsing and he watched Everly watch the crowd. He could easily see her in the mix, enjoying herself.
"Do you want to dance?" he asked her, dipping close to her ear. He could feel the warmth from her skin.
The glee in her eyes when she turned to him set his heart beating anew. She downed the rest of her drink and placed her hand in his outstretched one, her buzz evident when she stumbled off the barstool. He tugged her gently into the throng of bumpers and grinders, pulling her close to him by her slender waist, not just to keep her steady, but because he wanted her up against him.
He wanted her to feel what he felt when she was near. He wanted to take back everything he had done to upset her. Maybe this dance was what they needed.
He felt like it might be working because she willingly pressed her body to his and snaked her arms around his neck, swaying to the beat of the quick hip-hop song that was bumping through the speakers. Just then, though, the beat changed to a slow, sexy R&B tune, and they automatically slowed their movements, her hips pressing into his.
He felt his heart speed up as the tiny bit of distance that had been between them closed, and his body began to respond to her nearness. "Ev," he began, and she looked up at him, her chocolate eyes seeming darker than usual. His eyes roamed over her crimson lips, full and parted.
He ran his hands up and down her sides, the tight scarlet fabric hiding none of her curves. She just seemed so fragile in that moment, her eyes turned up to his with hesitant trust. He had fucked it up so badly earlier, and he wanted to make it right.
First, he wanted to apologize, to clear the air between them, and this time he didn't want her to misinterpret.
"Look, back in the hotel... I'm sorry about before—"
"Don't be, Stellan. I wouldn't want me, either," she slurred. "Not after all that I've done." She rested her cheek on his chest, and he was sure she could hear his heart beating a hundred miles an hour.
What? He didn't understand. What had she done? And what made her think it would affect his feelings toward her?
"You haven't done anything, why would you think that?" Stellan rested his chin on her head, hugging her to him.
She tightened her arms around him and he felt her take a shuddering breath. "I–I can't–" she started, but as he stared across the room, deep in thought about what she could be talking about, he felt a pair of eyes on him. And when he met those eyes, his body immediately erupted into trembles.
"Oh, shit," he murmured.
Everly lifted her face from his chest and looked up at him. "What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes unfocused.
"I–I can't believe this," he started, holding her tighter to his chest. It was impossible...
"What?" she demanded, her voice taking on a high-pitched, alarmed tone.
But the man was already approaching them, a sinister smile across his tanned face.
"Well, well. If it isn't Stellan Hailström?" the man said smoothly, walking up to them with long strides.
Stellan moved Everly behind him, out of the man's sight.
"Merrik," he acknowledged, his voice low and tight.
Everly held tight to Stellan's arm. "Who is that? How does he know you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Stellan did not answer right away. He was in shock. Neither had contacted the other in years, and this was the last place Stellan would have expected to run into him. His whole body shook. Everly squeezed his arm.
"What, you're not going to introduce me? That's just rude," Merrik said, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
Stellan took a breath. "Everly, this is Merrik. My brother."
Everly gasped as she looked up at Stellan, whose face had reddened.
"Outside," Merrik stated. He approached the exit at a brisk clip.
Stellan glared at Merrik's retreating form but knew he didn't need to piss him off; he was holding all the cards at the moment and the element of total surprise. He looked down at Everly reassuringly and led her outside.
"What brings you to Chicago, little brother?" Merrik asked smoothly, leading them into the alleyway next to the club. He leaned against the brick wall of the building, crossing his long legs in front of him. "It's been a long time."
Stellan pursed his lips, not budging.
"Tsk. I got a phone call yesterday," Merrik said, reaching into his coat pocket for a cigarette. He lit it, puffing at it for a moment. "Want to guess why?"
Stellan didn't answer; he honestly didn't know what to say without revealing too much. Information was dangerous with Merrik; he was a man who dealt it like the most sought-after thing on the planet.
Merrik took a long drag on the cigarette and stared at him. "You left the gang. Why?"
Stellan started, frowning at the cloud of smoke drifting toward him. "Vinnie called you? You didn't tell him I was here, did you?"
"Of course not, brother. How was I supposed to know you were going to stumble into my backyard? He just wanted me to be on the lookout for you," Merrik responded. "And maybe Vinnie should know... But more interestingly, I want to know why you took off with their target." He nodded to Everly. "Vinnie is not happy."
Stellan glanced at Everly and back at Merrik. "I had already planned to leave. I'm tired of living that way; I've been tired of it for a long time," Stellan said, rubbing the back of his neck. "When they brought Everly in and said Vinnie wanted her 'clean,' I know what that means. I couldn't let them hurt her... it wasn't right," Stellan answered.
Merrik scoffed. "Since when do you care about what's right?" Merrik took a final drag before tossing the cigarette to the ground. He stepped on it, twisting his ankle to smother the flame.
The look on Stellan's face hardened. "I've always cared. But now I'm doing something about it."
Merrik thought for a moment before bending to retrieve his cigarette butt, tossing it in the dumpster across from them.
"If we're done here," Stellan started, pivoting toward the alley's exit.
Merrik stood up straight and grabbed Stellan's wrist. "We aren't. I have a job for you, brother."