An Eye For Illusion: A Private Investigator Romantic Suspense: (Dunn Security Group Book 2)

Chapter 4

Isigh as I lay my head back against the soft couch cushion. “Why the fuck can’t I find anything?” I mutter to myself. I scrub my hand down my face in frustration.

I close my laptop and slide back further into the soft leather couch. I close my eyes against the low lights in the living room.

That damn PI hasn’t found anything and neither have I. Oh, I’ve been trying, too. On paper, my fiancé Elliott Moore is squeaky clean, but I don’t believe that for one damn minute. I groan, and my stomach pitches when I think about the upcoming wedding.

My father has pushed for this relationship from the start. Elliott is a broker dealer and the perfect addition to the family business. At first, I didn’t care. I had no desire to get married out of love. I figured agreeing to date Elliott would get my dad off my back. If it led to a marriage, it would only be a business deal. Nothing more.

My feelings started to change shortly after we got engaged. I’ve never been the lovey-dovey kind of woman, and I didn’t think Elliott would pressure me into more. We’d slowly built a friendship that would hopefully one day turn into trust and intimacy.

It isn’t far-fetched to think our relationship could turn into that, but at that point in time, I wasn’t there yet. We’d spent plenty of time together when our schedules allowed it. Dinner dates, staying at each other’s houses for a movie night in, or getting together with my father for dinner.

All of it was going smoothly. At least, I thought so on my end. That ended when Elliott came to me one night.

“Don’t you think we should’ve been intimate by now, Jade? I mean, we’re getting married.”

His question throws me off guard for a second. I’d been upfront about how I felt from the beginning. I was as honest as possible. I didn’t feel that way about him—yet.

“I thought we already talked about this, Elliott?” My confusion is clear on my face.

He huffs. “Yeah, well, that was months ago. How do you expect us to get married if you don’t even want to have sex with me?”

His question is like a proverbial slap to the face. I wasn’t ready, and I sure as hell wouldn’t force it. I didn’t think it was a big deal for him. When we first discussed it, he agreed that we shouldn’t rush things, but now it seems as though things have changed.

“I never said I didn’t want to have sex with you, Elliott. I said I wasn’t ready yet, and you said you respected that. You said you wanted me to be ready and comfortable. What’s changed?”

He paces in front of the giant windows in my living room, roughly running his hands through his hair before spinning to face me.

“What’s changed is you’re supposed to be my wife in a few short months, and it seems like you barely like me, let alone want to marry me!” he roars.

I’m taken aback by the venom in his voice. For the past few weeks something has been different… He’s had a shorter temper and has been more distracted and jittery. I haven’t had any idea what’s going on with him, but I’m starting to worry.

Just a few weeks ago, I met him at his place for dinner. When he opened the door, I gasped in surprise and concern.

He had a huge black eye and a busted lip. I asked him what happened, and he said it was no big deal. He’d gotten into a scuffle with a client who took a hard loss on an investment.

I thought it was absolutely fucking crazy. Since when did million-dollar clients beat up their brokers?

He swore up and down that it was nothing I needed to worry about, but even now after the bruises have healed, I can still see the same jittery man standing in that doorway. He fidgets as he continues to pace in front of the windows without truly focusing on anything.

Something happened…and it wasn’t anything good.

“What’s really going on here? You can talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

My words only seem to agitate him more.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

The malice in his tone has the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I’ve never been afraid of Elliott before, but the way he’s talking and acting makes my fight or flight response roar to life.

“What have you done?” My tone is deadly quiet as my pulse races in my ears, the pounding so loud I can barely hear myself think.

He turns abruptly, and before I can register what’s happening, he’s in my face, his hot, sticky breath hitting my cheek and making my skin crawl in the most uncomfortable way.

Every protective instinct in my body lights a fire under me, urging me to get out of there. My lungs seize with fear. His eyes are unnaturally dilated, and his stare is ice cold.

“Maybe you should be more worried about what you haven’t done, Jade.”

My heart races as I scan his hard, detached eyes. It’s like looking into a black hole. I recognize no part of Elliott Moore staring back at me right now.

“What do you mean?” I ask carefully.

“What I mean is if you don’t start acting more like my fiancé and less like a cold-hearted bitch, your father is going to find out just how conniving you really are.”

My eyes narrow at his threat. My hands go up to push him away from me, and he stumbles back.

“Like my father would believe you over me, Elliott. We can end this here and now. Nobody fucking threatens me!” I yell.

He turns then, a sickeningly sweet smile curving his lips. “How far would you go to protect your father, Jade?”

I’m jolted out of the memory when my cell rings. I look down to see Elliott’s name, and the knot that’s become so familiar to me forms in my belly at seeing it. I push ignore on my phone.

After that night, everything changed for me. I became almost desperate to break off the engagement, but every time I went to my father to confess my concerns about Elliott, something would happen.

Either Elliott would be there with my father, or my father would gush about something Elliott had done, or how excited he was for the wedding. Every time something would stop the words, “I don’t want to marry Elliott Moore,” from leaving my mouth.

It was like karma was giving me the middle finger for ever having agreed to marry him in the first place. After that night, I felt stuck and confused because Elliott went back to being the sweet, doting man I’ve known for years. It was like that night was just a nightmare I conjured in my own mind.

I even started to believe it, too. I started to question if it ever really happened to begin with, but that sticky, slimy feeling I felt that night is ever present now when I’m around him. It’s the only reminder that I’m not going crazy and that night really happened.

My only way out at this point is to prove to my father that Elliott Moore isn’t the man he claims to be. He fooled us both for so many years. I never once doubted him or his intentions.

Not only do I need to prove it to my dad, I need to prove it to myself. Because of his actions since then, I’ve been gaslighted—by him, by me; I don’t even know—into believing it’s possible I made it up or blew it out of proportion. I need to see the truth for myself.

The proof I need to protect my father and me risks putting us in danger. Whatever is going on with Elliott is dangerous, and he’s desperate.

A desperate man will do whatever it takes to save his own ass, including taking down my father and me. Elliott Moore is a threat, one I’m unwilling to let win.

To top it all off, I risk hurting the reputation of the company my father and I have worked tirelessly to build. Elliott knows a lot of powerful and wealthy people. I wouldn’t put it past him to use that to his advantage against the company if I push him.

I’ve sacrificed everything to get to where I am today. I started in the mailroom until I could prove to my father that I could do this, that I could be the leader he needs when he retires.

Without this position, I can’t do all the good I want to, and that’s a sacrifice I’m unwilling to make.

But I’ll be damned if marry that man.

I need insurance that he can’t come after us.

I was hoping I could find a way out myself, but the closer we get to the wedding date, the more of a predicament I find myself in and the more I start to panic. That’s why I called Dunn Security for help. They’re supposedly the best. Even though Colin could use a personality transplant, he’s one of the best PI’s on the west coast.

I snort out loud at that thought. I’m really starting to question my judgement at this point. I’m jolted out of my spiraling thoughts as my cellphone rings on the coffee table again. I open one eye, peering at the screen to see who it is. It’s almost eleven p.m., so I know it isn’t work, and it sure as hell better not be Elliott again.

I’ve become very inept at avoiding him whenever possible.

If it’s anyone other than Bridgette, I won’t answer. Maybe Colin, but he’s proven to be very unreliable on providing daily updates. I doubt it’s him, unless he actually has an update.

I suddenly sit up and reach for the phone, my heart pounding at the thought of maybe finding a fucking way out of this mess.

My shoulders drop slightly when I see who’s calling.

“Hey, Bridge,” I answer.

“I figured you’d still be up. You still scrolling the deep dark web for Elliott’s secrets and lies?” she teases.

I huff. “Nooo. I’m lying here contemplating running off to Fiji and hiding out for the rest of my life.”

“You’d never leave me here with the wolves, and you know it.”

I sigh because she’s right. I’d never do that to her, but I would take her with me! She’s my cousin, but she’s also my best friend. She’s the only one in my family I trust with my life and my darkest fears, including those about Elliott.

“Wouldn’t I?” I respond, teasing.

“You forget, Jade, I know you—the real you,” she says softly, slamming me back into reality. Bridgette knows me better than anyone, even better than my own father. She’s been more like a sister to me than a cousin.

“I know. Everyone else believes I’m a raging bitch.”

I wrinkle my nose at that thought. I gave myself this image, but I wish people knew the real me. At least, the people closest to me.

“Hmmm, I wonder how they got that impression.”

She doesn’t wonder because she knows this is exactly what I want people to believe. The little girl who got pushed around re-emerged as a powerful, take-no-shit businesswoman.

I wish I felt that confident dealing with Elliott, though. This whole situation has made me feel out of sorts, like I’ve been thrown into a world of unknowns and scary possible outcomes.

I sigh. “You know it’s better this way.”

Bridgette has always told me I’ve worn this mask for too long, taken this charade too far. She always tells me if I’d just let people in, they’d see who I really am. That I’d gain their respect that way instead of through the fear of me theoretically ripping them to shreds.

“It’s not…but I don’t want to go down this road with you again tonight. What’s the PI found on Moore?” She changes the subject quickly to prevent an argument spawned by her wanting what’s best for me and me vehemently avoiding it.

“Pfft. A lot of fucking nothing. He’s supposedly the best, but judging by his lack of information and lack of communication skills, I’m not so sure.” I roll my eyes at the thought of him.

Cocky bastard.

“Mmhmm.” I can hear her tapping the keys on her laptop.

“He tap dances on my last nerve. I don’t know that any man on the planet has ever annoyed me even a fraction as much as Colin does. If I didn’t need him so fucking much, I’d trade agencies.” I huff.

The tapping continues before she says, “Ah, I see.”

Surely, she isn’t looking him up. I mean, his picture won’t be anywhere; he’s a PI. Remaining anonymous is absolutely necessary. I tried looking him up on social media myself only to come up empty-handed. What if he uses a fake name online? What if he’s using a fake name with me? What if he isn’t really Colin Brooks?

My mind is reeling.

“What are you looking at over there? What are you typing?” I ask, barely taking a breath between questions.

“I’m updating my website for a new specialized therapy I’m offering. Calm down, Jade! I’m not spying on your man.”

Her giggle makes me turn red. I feel heat creeping across my cheeks. I don’t know why my mind jumped to that conclusion.

“He isn’t my man! He’s working for me, nothing more.” I pretend to be exasperated with her. She’s just giving me a hard time, and I enjoy the distraction from where my mind was before she called.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”

“You don’t believe me? Colin is only working for me to get me out of this engagement with Elliott. Then we go our separate ways. That’s it.”

“Bingo. Every time I talk to you, you talk about Colin.”

I roll my eyes. “Because he drives me insane. He’s literally the most frustrating person I’ve ever had to deal with…” my words trail off.

“And yet, you haven’t fired him and hired someone else.” Her tone is a matter of fact, and damn if she isn’t right.

If anyone else spoke to me the way he does or didn’t follow my instructions to the letter, I would’ve already let them go. However, something tells me Colin is my best bet to get out of the marriage and the hell away from Elliott Moore.

I release a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, Bridge. Love you.”

“Love you, and you know I’m right!” she says before a couple smooching sounds and ending the call.

Truly exasperated now, I toss my phone on the sofa beside me and flop back against the cushions.

What the hell am I going to do?

I have a psycho for a fiancé and a PI who can’t communicate but seems to consume my thoughts lately.

Iwake up hot, sweaty, and incredibly turned on. What the hell? I groan and turn my face into my pillow, fighting the urge to reach between my thighs. I know I’d find my panties soaking wet from the dream I just woke up from.

I bite my lip, thinking it would be so easy to slide my hand down and insert two fingers into my throbbing pussy and let them chase away this excruciatingly frustrating feeling.

My eyes flutter closed, the grogginess once again pulling me under. My mind instantly takes me to where my dream left off. My body relaxes back into the soft mattress.

He hovers above me, his blonde hair falling over his forehead. It’s messy from me running my fingers through it. His muscular torso is on full display, and I take my time, enjoying the sensation of running my fingers through every contour of his abs.

His hard cock is lined up and waiting to enter me, but for some reason, he hasn’t yet taken the prize. I want to scream, what are you waiting for? But when I move my lips, no sound comes out.

I moan, his fingers finally pressing lightly on my clit. My back arches off the bed as I try to chase his fingers. His touch is too soft, and as quick as it was there, it’s gone just as fast. My moan turns into a groan at the loss.

“Do you like that, princess?” he asks in a deep, gravelly tone, like he’s barely able to contain himself.

I try to answer him, but once again, I can’t seem to find my voice. I thrash on the bed in response, pulling his body closer to mine. He only smirks in response and pulls back.

I cry out at the loss of his skin on mine, and I reach to pull him back, but my hands can’t seem to grab him.

No, don’t leave me like this.

“One day, princess, your pretty pussy will be all mine.”

He backs off the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. They’re intense and focused. His normally playful demeanor is still there, but there’s a softness in his eyes that I’m not used to. And it’s directed at me, which is another thing I’m not used to.

I want to ask him where he’s going and why he’s leaving me. I try to form the question burning on my tongue, but no matter how much I urge my mouth to cooperate, it doesn’t.

He smiles gently. “It isn’t time yet, but it will be soon enough.” And then he just disappears into thin air.

I jolt upright, my pulse pounding in my veins. The first thing I notice is my pussy is painfully empty and throbbing. I rub my thighs together, the friction causing a slight tease of pleasure. The next thing I register is that I’m home alone in my king-sized bed with the sheets twisted all around me.

I look at the giant floor-to-ceiling window in my bedroom. The moon is high in the sky, and the city lights are bright below.

I throw myself back down on the bed, my forearm going over my eyes. This time, I actually groan out loud.

What in the world was that?Of all the people I could have a sex dream about…my subconscious goes and betrays me like that? Then again, that dream gave me one of the greatest teases of my life. It just happened to be with the one person I can’t stand the most.

Colin fucking Brooks.

Falling back asleep after my wet dream about Colin was impossible. I tossed and turned, squeezed my eyes closed so tight it hurt, but sleep never came. I kept picturing his cocky grin and his eyes staring into mine while he hovered over me.

I push the blankets off me with a frustrated huff. “I guess I’ll just shower and head into the fucking office then,” I grumble to myself. There’s always plenty of work to lose myself in. It seems like I do that more often than not these days.

I slide the dimmer switch on the wall inside my en suite bathroom to the lowest setting. The room has only a faint glow—good enough to see but not enough to blind me. I’m in no mood for bright lights at this hour. Especially without getting enough sleep.

I turn on the shower and allow it to get steaming hot. I slip off my thin satin pjs and toss them into the hamper. When I step inside the shower, the water burns my skin, and it feels so good. I stay under the stream, allowing my body to adjust to the temperature.

I spend the rest of the shower trying to scrub the indecent thoughts of Colin from my mind. But no matter how hard I try, every time I close my eyes, all I see is a set of incredible washboard abs and a killer smile.