Moriarty's Musician

Knowledge Is Power, Part 10

Annabelle didn't move, her arms still extended, her fingers still clutched around the gun, her gaze glued on the man she had just killed at point-blank range.

Moriarty slowly approached Annabelle and took the gun from her fingers. He tossed the weapon on the ground and turned her towards him. He gently lifted her quivering chin, and in the full light of the cottage, grimaced at the extent of the damage done to her face.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice catching in his throat.

Annabelle didn't look up at him. The tears were clouding her eyes at what she had just done. She had killed a man. "He's dead."

Moriarty nodded at her words and wrapped his arms around her. "He's definitely dead."

"I killed him."

"Yes, you did."

Annabelle squeezed her eyes shut, but she didn't cry. She only curled her arms around Moriarty's waist and rested her head on his shoulder, her lips close to his neck.

Moriarty could feel Annabelle's breath whispering across his skin. He pulled her closer into his body. He had to protect her. It wouldn't take long before they raised the bounty on her head, especially now. She had killed one of their own and the elite would be relentless in coming after her.

"James, I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have left."

Moriarty sighed and with his hand around her waist, guided her to the couch. Once there, he didn't hesitate to pull Annabelle back into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and, closing his eyes, rested his lips against her hair. "I won't let you go again. You're stuck with me, Miss Watson."

Annabelle heard him, but barely. What was wrong with her? She could hardly focus. "There was a woman in the mansion, James. She played the piano. Either that or I'm going crazy like my mother."

Moriarty smiled, loving the way his name still flowed so easily from her lips.

"I know, kitten. I know. Jack told me about her."

Annabelle lifted her head and met Moriarty's eyes. "And you believe him?"

He nodded and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I believe you." He touched her chin and traced his fingertips lightly over the bruises on her face. "I thought I'd lost you, darlin'."

A hint of a smile touched Annabelle's lips. She turned her face into his palm and kissed it. "You almost did. And the worst part is that I almost lost you."

A lump formed in his throat at her words. Was this what it was like, this intensity in his chest, this euphoric warmth spreading over him? Was this...

He lifted Annabelle's chin again and studied her face. She was so beautiful, his little musician. And he knew what he was going to do. He would hide her away and spoil her with all her heart's desires. She would want for nothing. And most importantly, he would keep her safe.

Moriarty lowered his face, his mind swirling with what he wanted, but he hesitated. He wouldn't force her. She had just gone through a nightmare, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. But Annabelle didn't pull away. She leaned forward, her eyes searching his, her mouth parting slightly, expectantly. Moriarty's heart hammered in his chest as his gaze dropped to her lips. And he kissed her.