When He Desires: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 1)
When He Desires: Chapter 10

There’s a subtle shift in the car’s steady hum, a gentle lurch that morphs into a sharp slide. My stomach drops as the car begins to skid, the tires losing their grip on the surface beneath us.

I clutch at the armrest, my knuckles whitening, eyes widening in alarm.

The scenery outside the window spins as the car pirouettes across the road. I yelp and hear Rowan swear. He fights for control, wrestling the wheel back and forth. The sound of the tires skidding on the snow is punctuated by the staccato beat of my own racing heart.

The flashback crashes into me like a brutal wave.

“Hold on, kid.”

“I’m scared, Daddy!”

A sudden warmth spreads through my body, subtle at first but rapidly intensifying. There’s a furnace inside me, and it’s just been ignited. The heat comes from deep within my core, radiating outward like ripples on water.

“I don’t want to do this!”

“Shut your mouth, girl.”

My skin prickles. Sweat beads across my forehead. I’m right back there, on the back of my father’s bike in the Ring of Fire, my hands slippery against the leather of his vest, and my eyes squeezed shut. The roar of the crowd is in my ears, so loud it’s deafening. He rides at high speed in an impossibly tight circle. All I can do is hold on and pray we won’t crash.

I brace for impact, but then as quickly as it started, the sliding stops.

For a moment, the only sound is the engine idling.

Then Rowan’s voice fills the air. “Hey. You okay?’

My heart is inside my throat, my nervous system in overdrive. I press my palms to my chest and try to inhale.

I can’t.

There’s a strange, almost suffocating quality to the air now. It feels thick, harder to breathe. My clothes cling uncomfortably to my skin, damp with sweat, and I’m aware of every layer.

There’s no damn air.

“Shit.”

I hear a car door open, then close, then open again. Cold air rushes inside and bites against my burning skin. A warm hand appears on my thigh. “Blake, look at me.”

My eyes crack open. It takes me a moment to orient myself because the car is skewed and facing the wrong direction. Rowan is standing outside, between the open door and my seat, his concerned gaze on me. Snowflakes pepper his hair.

The hand on my thigh squeezes gently. Another comes up to brush against my cheek. “You’re burning up.”

“Panic attack,” I manage to pant out.

“Let’s get your coat off.” He helps me pull the zipper all the way down and pushes the coat off my shoulders. “Take a deep breath.”

I do. It’s easier now that the vicious heat inside me is ebbing away. My breath is a puff of steam that quickly dissipates into the frigid air.

Rowan’s eyes stay glued to my face as his hands gently press down on my thighs. There are thin gold shards slicing through his hazel irises. I hadn’t noticed them until now.

He turns one palm up. “Take my hand.”

I do it, sliding mine into his much bigger one. Even in my current state, I can’t help but marvel at how nicely it fits.

“Breathe with me,” he says softly, curling his fingers around me. “In and out. We’re safe, Sunshine.”

I swallow and do as he says. “We’re safe.”

“That’s right,” he rumbles.

My next inhale brings his scent into my lungs, and it makes the panic from moments earlier melt away.

“Have you been in a car accident before?” He runs his thumb over the inside of my palm. That tiny movement shouldn’t make the hairs on the back of my arms stand straight, but it does.

“Once,” I whisper. “I was with my dad, and I got really hurt.”

“Hmm.” The hand on my thigh gives me a gentle squeeze, and all of my awareness zooms in on the sensation. “No wonder you got so shaken up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Do you think you’ll be okay if I keep driving?”

“Yes. I’m okay.”

He nods, and his gaze drops to my lips for just a second before he lets go of my hand. “Good.”

While he walks around the car to get back into his seat, I fold my coat across my lap. The place on my thigh where he had his palm simmers with residual heat.

I swallow. Great. Add a panic attack to the list of awkward moments with my new neighbor.

“We’re almost home,” he says as we start driving again. “I’ll go even slower. Is there someone at home who can keep an eye on you? I haven’t seen anyone else coming or going.”

“No, there’s no one else.” I bite down on the corner of my mouth. “It used to be my mom and I, but she died earlier this year. If she were still around, I know exactly how the rest of my evening would go.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She’d give me a big hug when I told her what happened and then insist we sit down for a cup of tea. It was our ritual. A cup of tea, every morning and every evening.” I still haven’t broken the habit of always making her a mug. God, I miss her so much.

He adjusts his grip on the wheel. “I’m sorry. What about your dad?”

“He died years ago. He was rarely around anyway.” And he had a habit of showing up at the worst times with empty promises, stolen money, and little else. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be all right.”

His jaw firms, but he keeps his eyes on the road and gives me a small nod.

The car grows quiet, the noise outside muffled by the falling snow. All I can hear is my thundering heartbeat, and I’m worried Rowan can hear it too.

Snark and banter I can handle, but him comforting me? It’s throwing me for a loop.

What did you think he was going to do? Toss you out of the car?

No, of course not. He did what any decent person would do.

So now he’s decent?

I fold my lips over my teeth. This is confusing. I thought I had a solid read on Rowan, but now I’m questioning myself.

Is there more to him than meets the eye?

I shoot him a discreet glance. He’s focused on the road and seems oblivious to the fact that my heart is still pounding.

And not just because of the near accident.

I wasn’t totally repulsed by Rowan’s touch. I should have been. But I felt…a lot of things, and disgust wasn’t one of them. I’m not sure how to process that fact.

I put my coat back on and zip it all the way up. He glances at me but doesn’t say anything.

As promised, we move slowly through the blizzard. After what feels like an eternity, Rowan finally pulls into my driveway.

I clear my throat and try to pretend like my perception of him didn’t just tilt on its axis. “Thanks for everything.”

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own? I can stick around for a bit.”

“I’m sure.” I need to get out of this car and collect myself. “I owe you for the drive and for getting me home safe. Would have sucked to die on my birthday.”

His brows arch. “It’s your birthday today?”

“Twenty-three.”

A genuine smile appears on his lips, and it makes something flutter low inside my belly.

“Happy birthday, Sunshine.” He reaches over me and opens the door. “Watch your step.”

Snowflakes land on my burning cheeks as I walk toward my front door. Right before I go inside, I glance over my shoulder and see Rowan watching me.

I give him a jerky wave, step over the threshold, and lock the door behind me. Then I stand there with my back pressed against it and take ten very deep breaths. Just when I think I’ve managed to calm down, I remember the weight of his hand on my thigh and how it felt.

Warm, sure, and safe.

I groan. Enough. I need to get a grip.

Shaking the snow off my Vans, I kick them aside and make my way to the deck at the back of the house. Cold air wraps around me as I pry the door open and stick my head out. That’s better. I need to cool down.

Hold on a sec.

I squint my eyes at the fence between the Jacksons’ backyard and mine. When I left this morning, it was broken.

Ignoring the fact that I’m only wearing socks, I step out onto the snow-covered deck and walk over to the railing at its edge so that I can see better.

It’s not broken anymore.

I huff out, and my breath swirls in front of me in a plume of white.

He fixed it.

He actually fixed it.

A grin comes over my face. Happy birthday to me.