Chapter 34

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Nathaniel's P.O.V.

I thought Ezra being out of Anastazi's life now would've been the best thing to happen aside from her coming back but seeing how she broke down in my arms last night because of him leaving made me want to haul his lizard eyes back here if it'd make her happy again. And if that wasn't fucking growth, I don't know what was. I stared down at my wrapped knuckles as I sat up in bed, feeling my heart clench uncomfortably. Amid her distress, she still put her needs on the back burner to take care of my hands and dripping hair despite the fact that she was quite literally minutes away from breaking down. I knew Ezra left the moment he did. After I was informed that Anastazi took off of work yesterday, I had someone keep tabs on her while my tech guy dug around and found Ezra's flight information. He had two one-way flights scheduled to London, one for the day he left and another for next week. He bought two tickets for that flight, and I could only assume that was meant for both him and Anastazi. In the end, he chose the one ticket.

She stayed.

For what or for whom didn't fucking matter to me. She was here to stay, and that information alone eased some of the stress embedded deep in my bones. As for me almost not making it in time to save the woman that had her hand wrapped around my heart, I was still fucking infuriated about that. The man I had assigned to keep tabs on her had one job, and he fucked it up and got distracted on his phone after she left the beach. He didn't realize she was gone until it was almost too late. Luckily, I was close by and was able to get to her in time to see her standing a few inches away from the man that was going to wish he hadn't been assigned to his job with her tiny fists clenched at her side and look of resignation on her face. Even as my car sped toward her, she stared at it ready for it to plow her down. I wanted to throttle her little neck for being so goddamn reckless and shake some sense into her brain, but the relief I felt when she was safely buckled in the car was like none other. The only reason I hadn't put a bullet in the skull of the man that lost her was because he made up for it when he captured the other accomplice that tried to get away in the van.

The sole reason my knuckles were busted was because I spent the time after I dropped Anastazi off, pummeling it into the tattooed man's face releasing some of the pent-up anger I had. I didn't even get to the torturing part of things yet to seek out answers because I was too distracted wondering how Anastazi was coping after almost being kidnapped again on top of Ezra leaving. That woman had already been through enough with me, and she still couldn't seem to catch a fucking break which did not sit right with me. I was still completely clueless as to who was behind her kidnapping, even after spending countless days and nights going without sleep trying to figure out who the hell had the audacity to keep targeting her. The amount of progress we've made which was damn near none pissed me off, and it was only a matter of time before I completely snapped.

I unclenched my fists before my knuckles started bleeding again, which would lead to getting scolded by the bossy woman above me, not that I'd mind, but I didn't want to get her worked up if I could avoid it. She was going through enough already. As much as I wanted to keep my thoughts centered around her and only her, it was time to start the long day I had planned. I was already running late from reminiscing on the moment after Anastazi had cried herself to sleep on my lap last night. How perfectly her body fit in my arms and how happy I was to hold her to the point where I had to control my breathing to keep my heart from jumping out of my ribcage. How she unconsciously gripped my tank when I tried to get up and carry her to bed. How she snuggled deeper into my body when I somehow managed to grab the blanket that had fallen on the floor when she got up to get the first aid kid from the kitchen and wrapped it around her delicate frame. I lost count of how many times I had to stop myself from kissing any part of her, not wanting to overstep my boundaries. The last thing she needed after this breakup was me trying to swoop in and claim her, no matter how much I ached to do so. What she needed was time, and I was a patient man when I wanted to be, and for her, I'd be anything she needed me to be.

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