CHAPTER 2 - PLAYING THE HERO WAS A MISTAKE

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Ethan

I didn't know why I did it, why I saved her. I knew she would probably wind up losing her life either way. The problem was, I didn't think at all. I just reacted. When we turned the corner, and I saw her with her blouse ripped open, running for her life, it shook something within me.

It was when she fell to the concrete, and they were closing in on her, that my mind went back to the worst night of my life. Somehow, the horror seemed to replay itself right before my eyes. My body froze for a moment as if I was seeing her all over again. I remembered her face looking up at me with desperation, begging for someone to do something, anything, to save her. Tears filled her eyes as the bullets rattled through her body, and blood spilled all over her dress. I was there all over again, watching helplessly.

Snapping myself back to reality, I knew I had to do something. I might have been helpless that night, but I had a shot at saving this girl, and I had to try. Firing at them would warn them off, but I knew these guys, and they knew me. They also knew I was not the one to cross, but that wouldn't stop them from going to their boss and plotting their revenge.

At least she had some street smarts about her. She stayed down while the bullets flew. It impressed me how she instinctively protected herself. Most girls in her position would have been frantic and made careless decisions. One wrong move and she would have found herself directly in the line of fire.

When I pulled her into the car, she looked so young that it stunned me for a moment. Her scraped face was bleeding, and although I tried to avert my eyes, they found their way to her ripped blouse. Her assailants had left her exposed, and I wasn't comfortable seeing her so vulnerable.

When she revealed she was homeless, I felt a tinge of pity. That was a foreign feeling to me. I rarely cared about what went on in other people's lives. It was their concern, not mine. She was so young to be on the streets, and I wondered how she got there to begin with. What could have happened in her life for someone so beautiful to wind up homeless?

When she told me her parents were dead, it made sense. What I couldn't understand was how she survived on her own. It was a miracle that what happened to her on that street had not happened before. Or maybe it had?

My thoughts quickly turned to the situation I had just single-handedly placed us in. At the moment, I hadn't thought through the fact that I would have to let her die, kill her myself, or protect her for the rest of her life. The weight of what I had done was sinking in. There was no room in my life for anyone else. Protecting myself was a full-time job. And of all people, it had to be a young girl? How was I supposed to take care of her in my line of business?

As I glanced over at her again, I found it hard not to stare. Being around beautiful women was not foreign to me. I had become accustomed to them throwing themselves at me. Each of them holding the same fascination — winning my affection. It had become a competition of sorts in certain social circles. Their ambitions were nothing more than a fantasy. They were merely entertainment to me.

Looking into this girl's green eyes, I saw a mixture of fear and strength. Her chestnut hair framed her face that still wore the aftershocks of what she had experienced. There was something different about her, and I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on her. In any life other than my own, I would have wanted to take care of her. Watching her trembling hands, I realize she was probably worrying about what I would do with her, and I didn't blame her.

I wanted to put my arm around her and tell her everything would be okay, but I had to be strong. The only side she needed to see of me was the one the rest of the world saw; a cold-hearted son of a bitch who cared about nothing but himself. That would make things easier because I wouldn't have to worry about her becoming attached.

Once the car was secure in the parking garage, my guards escorted us up to the penthouse. She never said a word. She just stood there with her arms wrapped around her chest. When the elevator doors opened, I watched her eyes widen in disbelief. I loved that she tried so hard to maintain a tough exterior, but I could see beyond that. What I saw underneath was a girl so fragile it frightened me.

Giving her a quick tour of the apartment, I showed her to one of the spare bedrooms. Once she stepped inside, I pulled the door shut, giving myself a moment to think. What was I going to do with this beautiful girl who had just fallen into my life? 

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A/N

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