BORDEN 2 - R.J. Lewis Page 0,1

Always she managed to cool the burn within him with just one look at her. She did something to him he didn’t fully understand. She made everything bearable.

Staring at her sprawled out in a peaceful slumber, all perfect and sweet, Borden knew he had no right to want her. But he made no apologies for it either. He was being selfish on purpose. Any compassionate person could see it was wrong. A good man would have realized she deserved better. A good man would have let her go to live her life to the fullest.

Only Borden was, by definition, not a good man. He knew she deserved better. He just didn’t give a fuck. By having Emma, he was putting her in harm’s way and yet… the thought of doing the right thing – of letting her go just hours after she’d given herself to him – was unfathomable. There wasn’t a single part of his being that would allow that to happen.

He couldn’t do it.

He just…couldn’t.

The selfish prick that he was felt assured by that simple fact. Even if it meant locking her away just to have her, he would do it. His want for her ran dangerously deep; it would frighten people the extent he would go just to keep her. And that’s all he wanted to do. Keep her. She wasn’t going anywhere, and that text…well, it was full of shit. It had to be.

Pulling out his zippo lighter, he rested his back against the headboard of the bed and twirled it between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabbed one of Emma’s infinite switchblades off the night table and opened it. He stared at the cheap blade, running his thumb along the dull end of it. He suppressed a smile at her ridiculous attempt at arming herself. It was akin to arming a gorgeous butterfly with a machete.

Just… adorable.

So pathetically, indescribably adorable.

That prompted him to glimpse at her again. He couldn’t help it. Dropping the knife, he lightly ran his fingers down her body, over the soft curves of her warm skin. He felt a stir of desire. If he wasn’t thinking so much about that damned message, he might have hardened again. He might have forced her awake with his cock between her lips. Might have taken her again, this time nothing like tonight’s soft lovemaking. He would have fucked her, and she would have writhed beneath him wanting every second of it. She would have moaned in his ear, clawed at his scalp, hurt him ‘til his dick throbbed harder, and she would have loved every single second of it. Because that’s what Emma was: hungry and twisted like him, selfish and hard like him. It only took him fucking up her life to realize it.

Now is not the time for fucking.

He listened to every bit of noise as he admired her, idly watching the minutes tick with this dread growing inside of him. In his need to see her, nobody but Graeme knew he was here. He didn’t even have a fucking gun on him.

He was suddenly disturbed by how vulnerable he was. He was the most feared man in New Raven, and the fucking idiot was sitting inside a dilapidated apartment building, unarmed, unprepared, and with a woman he cared for sleeping right next to him.

Brilliant, dickhead. Absolutely brilliant.

And all he could think about was that alleyway.

It took him ten minutes. Exactly ten agonizing minutes before he pulled his cell phone out and messaged Graeme.

You around?

Of course he was around. That man never slept. It took not even a minute for Graeme to respond.

Graeme: Always. Down the block from you in the back of my car. Why?

Borden: Notice any strange activity?

Graeme: Nothing from my end. I’m not in front of the apartment building. There were no spots available for parking. Want me to move?

Borden: I want you to drive up the street and let me know if you see anything in the alleyway across the building from us.

Graeme: And what happens if I see someone? Take him to dinner or drop him off at the park?

Borden paused before he answered, a fleeting round of scenarios running through his mind.

Borden: You take him to dinner.

In other words: You apprehend the fucker and wait for Borden’s next instructions.

In other words: Borden was going to cut every inch of flesh off the fucker’s body.

In other words: Fucker was going to his death.

Borden slid out of bed and looked out the window. Moments later the