Moth to a Flame

24. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Landon

Chipping dried nail polish is a form of art.

Scrape it too hard, and the whole layer might come off. Go too hard with the metal ruler or Swiss blade or whatever it is you use, and your nail might get scraped along the way.

It takes patience. Concentration.

Which I’m lacking.

This time, this isn’t Regan who’s responsible for it. Unlike last week.

When Rosemary went out for a delivery a few blocks away, I flipped the sign to their store to Closed . Regan didn’t need me to command her to kneel after I walked behind the counter.

She lowered to the floor as soon as I sat on the stool, as I pretended to be bored and chipped the nail polish she painted on me that morning. Regan sucked me off behind the counter where no one but me could see her lips stretching around my cock.

But I’m only a man. There was only so much pretending I could do before I sliced into one of my nails.

Unfortunately, today, I’m not distracted by a beautiful girl sucking my cock.

Today is Lester’s parole hearing.

I have everything set in the duffel bag in my car. The spiked baseball bat. The serrated knife. Ropes, zip ties, and a sedative I got on the dark web.

An abandoned warehouse I rented under a shell company waits for me about ten miles away from my home. The tarp is laid out all over the cement floor.

I’m ready.

Brimming with violent energy.

With revenge.

I’ll do it by myself in case they release him. For Regan. She won’t be there. She can’t be there. She’ll be locked in our home, just like we planned while I’m out there, destroying him.

“What’s your Viking boyfriend doing over there?” Willie asks.

Over the days I’ve spent in Regan and Rosemary’s store, I’ve come to know and like the older man. Mainly because the first time we met, he was suspicious about me. Because he’s protective of them.

“Yeah, Viking.” The nickname Willie gave me. Regan turns to me, to the stool I’m seated on. She’s beautiful in a simple pair of black leggings and a T-shirt. My problem is that her smile never reaches her eyes. “What are you doing?”

For obvious reasons, I’m not working. What I have been doing all day is sitting here, watching over her. Touching her. Sliding my fingers over her crotch and cupping her over her chastity belt when no one’s around.

More than anything, I’ve been expecting that phone call that’ll set me off on my killing rampage.

The nerves in my body are fired up. My jaw hasn’t stopped ticking since I woke up this morning. I notice how hard I’m gripping the metal ruler in my hand.

And guess what? I don’t give a fuck that it slices into my palm.

Nothing pisses me off worse than being unable to torture Lester until he cries for his mama.

The two people looking at me are kind. One of them is the love of my life. For her, I do my best to act normal. What most of the world perceives as normal, anyway.

Jaw unclenched. Eyes not narrowed. Pulse…Well, I can’t control my fucking pulse. Instead, I let out a long breath.

“Chipping my nail polish.”

“You look like you’re trying to remove everything. All my hard work.” Her voice isn’t as melodic as it usually is. There’s a crack in each word. “Or are you trying to tear the nail itself out?”

This morning, in bed, I begged her to stay home. Rosemary could handle the customers for one day. Just one. I even called her sister. She agreed with me, threatening to lock Regan out if she came over there.

Regan, stubborn little thing, refused to listen to either of us. And I couldn’t say no to her.

“You’re right.” I put the ruler on the counter. Slam it down on it, actually.

Willie frowns. “You sure you’re okay? No work today?”

No, I’m not sure I’m okay. My anger and bloodthirst are hardly contained. I feel every bone in my body. My heart hammers in its cage.

I’m sitting next to the woman I’ve sworn to protect, and I’m failing because getting into Brinestone isn’t a viable option.

Lester is still breathing.

This is how I die. Desperate to kill someone so badly that I can’t take it. Any minute now, I’ll bash my head against the nearest wall until this need for revenge spills out of me.

“I took the day off. Spending quality time with my woman. I’m okay, really.” There’s no way my smile would look genuine. I settle for a neutral expression instead. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“He’s fine.” Regan pats my hand. “Perfectly fine, Willie. Thank you for asking.”

In my deranged state, I still manage to notice that her nails need painting. It was my turn to do hers before Willie showed up with his phone, asking to buy more disc space for his grandkids’ videos and photos since he refuses to hear about the cloud.

I notice another thing. The slight tremble in her hand.

Fuck, if only I had it in me to be a fucker and yell at him to leave. To let her sit here and do nothing as I spoil and hug her. Comfort her.

Unfortunately, that’s not possible. I like him, and I won’t ever fuck with Regan’s business. If someone hears a raging asshole has taken residence here, her customers would go elsewhere.

“Okay.”

While she rings his order of a new pair of headphones on top of his new memory card, my phone vibrates with a text message.

Beverly: You and your future wife have plans for tonight?

“Here’s your change, Willie.” Regan’s sweet, hushed voice is like a knife to my heart. She’s scared and yet she’s trying so hard.

My free hand clenches into a fist. I’d love nothing more than to shove it down Lester’s throat. Let him choke on my rage.

Since I can’t do that—yet—I text Beverly back, using this opportunity to distract myself. Calm myself down. Regan deserves it, the better version of me.

For her, I try. I even crack a stupid joke.

Me: Texting at work? What would your boss say about that?

Beverly: My boss is playing hooky. Don’t think he cares.

Oh, he cares. He cares too much, just not about work. About the woman behind the register with her long locks draped over her back. The woman who wears one of my black T-shirts because she said it makes her feel safe and she needed it today.

I sneak a glance at her, at how the shirt falls to her mid-thigh. How hot her legs look in the black jeans she has on.

Fuck yeah, I care.

“See you around, Viking.”

Regan’s texting while Willie waves at me from the door. “Have a good one, Willie.”

It’s just us in the store. I don’t go over to her. Not right away. I look at her. Imagine her pussy locked in the chastity belt, knowing that I have the key to it.

I’m her man. The one to protect her. The one to own her.

She belongs to me.

The rage subsides significantly. Whatever happens today, I’ll be there for her.

Tomorrow, our lives can start for real.

Either that, or the countdown will start all over again.

Fuck, I can already feel his intestines running through my fingers.

I’m about to text Beverly that I’m fully booked tonight.

She beats me to it.

Beverly: You’re going to say no. I know. You’re a possessive alpha and she’s yours. I get it.

Beverly and her wife are great. I’m sure Regan will like them. Another day, when her emotions aren’t wreaking havoc in her sweet body.

Beverly: Before you do, consider this. A. I’m feeling really fucking left out that Vince met her and I haven’t. B. Faith wants to meet you both and thank you for the new home. I hate disappointing my woman. So unless you want me pissed off that you made her sad, you two will come over tonight.

“She’s funny.” Regan’s next to me, not sounding amused in the slightest.

This isn’t jealousy, no. Heaviness. That’s what it is.

Minutes and hours have been slipping through an invisible hourglass without a single message or call from the prosecutor who handles her case.

The same heaviness weighs on my chest like a ton of bricks.

“She is.” I shoot Beverly a text saying not today and slam the phone on the counter. Look up at Regan.

“I’d love to meet them. Her and her wife.”

While I’ve been texting with Beverly, something’s happened to Regan. Her dread has managed to bleed not just into her voice or her smile, but her entire face.

Eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Her cheeks are ghastly white.

As if she’s back in that park. As if the fucker might show up here and demand to take what’s mine.

Not on my watch. Never on my watch.

She’s with me here, in the store. I’ll remind her of that. For the rest of her life, I’ll remind her that she’s safe, protected, and mine.

I have my hand cupping her pussy. My fingers press into her jeans, feeling the metal of her chastity belt, squeezing. She doesn’t put up a fight when I yank her over to where I’m sitting.

We’re face to face. Her eyes widen a little more. Her pupils are larger.

She’s turned on, not afraid. That means I’m doing my motherfucking job right.

“You will. Over dinner first, then at my office on other days.” I tighten my grip on her pussy. My middle finger presses harder into her center.

It has to hurt, the metal digging into her flesh. But Regan’s addicted to the pain I give her. She moans, her chest heaving with each labored breath.

“Your office?”

My other hand has found its way to the side of her neck. I stroke her pulse point, feeling sick satisfaction from how her blood thrums for me.

“Yes, my office.” Staying away from her is impossible. I lean in, running my nose along the slope of her neck. Inhaling her sweet scent.

I bare my teeth and sink them into her shoulder.

I’m taking out my aggressive energies on her. More importantly, I’m grounding her. Through pain. Through reminding her no one could ever own or scare her but me.

“Some days…” That damn belt. I need to have her soak my fingers and come all over them. Except Rosemary would be back soon. “I’ll have to go there. Meetings. Remind them I’m the boss.”

“M-hmm.” She clutches on to the black T-shirt I have on. The store is naturally warm, so neither of us needs the extra layers of clothing. It’s even hotter now. “You’ll have to.”

“With you there.” Goosebumps prickle her skin wherever my lips and teeth touch. Her delicate neck, jaw, cheek. Wherever I mark her. “At my side. I’ll get you everything you need so you can work there. Next to me.”

“Landon, it’s not sustainable.” There’s zero conviction in her voice. None whatsoever since I suck on that area below her ear that she likes. “I can’t have our customers waiting over a day—Oh, oh —” Those are for me, these sounds, when I roll her nipple between my fingers through her bra. “For repairs that can take less than a couple of hours at best. I need to be here.”

“Nonnegotiable.”

The little growl she makes at the back of her throat gets me so hard. Every fucking time.

“A few days a year.” I raise my face back to hers, trailing my hand back up to her throat. “That’s all I’m asking. Demanding, actually.”

I’m not toying with her anymore. I need her.

I’m taking her.

With the slightest pressure on her neck, I pull her to me. Press my lips to hers, hard, and assault her mouth, her tongue. All of her. I bite and lick and suck.

Her hands go to my hair that I left down today, yanking on it.

Woof!

Mojo, you cockblocker.

“Hey, guys.” Usually, when Rosemary catches us, she laughs. Smiles.

Today isn’t one of those days.

Naturally.

She doesn’t even look at us as she sheds her gray jacket and throws it on the empty stool next to the register. Just tugs on the sleeves of her red patterned T-shirt and stares out the window.

“I saw Willie going into his building. Got in before I could say hi. He was here?”

There’s a pang in my chest. One I haven’t felt before meeting Regan.

Rosemary is lonely.

An idea flashes. A brilliant one.

She needs a match. A boyfriend. Someone to be there for her because this situation with me and Regan isn’t temporary. She isn’t coming back to the apartment next door to her sister.

She’ll be my wife, living in our home, forever.

But why should Rosemary stay by herself? Or date men who aren’t worthy of her?

The woman is basically my sister, and I have just the person for her.

Vince. Rosemary and Vince. I can’t believe how I’ve missed this until now.

He’s a cynic asshole who’s loyal to a fault and smart. Rosemary is all those things, plus kind. They’ll make each other laugh. She’ll have someone to come home to other than that yapping dog.

Wait, do I really want him in my family? This meddling human who cares about me so much?

Oh, well. I’ve had worse.

I’ll start working on it after today. Everything can wait.

Regan comes first. Always Regan.

“I’ll be in the back working if anyone’s looking for me.” Rosemary sighs and disappears behind the door with a happily yapping Mojo.

“You seemed lost.” Regan’s fingers are no longer on me. Her hands are at her sides, clenching and unclenching. The tremor is back. “Are you thinking about today?”

She’s referring to both Lester and the long, arduous torture session I have planned for him if he’s released.

“No.” I grab her by the waist, flip her as she shrieks and giggles, and settle her between my thighs. “I’ve been thinking about how selfish I’ve been.”

“You?” She twists her head to me, pouting. I’ll do everything in my power to keep distracting her. “You’re the most selfless person I know.”

“A selfless person wouldn’t have gotten his nails done.” I wrap my fingers around her wrist, raising her hand to her face. “Without returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to.”

“First of all, yes, I do. Second, I want to.” With her back pressed to my front, I spin the stool until we’re facing the counter and flatten her hand on it. “After that, depending on how busy this place will get and if we get a certain phone call, I have something else planned for us.”

“You do?”

The last time I surprised her, it was a few days ago with the rape scene on the beach. She didn’t see it coming. Couldn’t believe it until I was balls deep inside her.

Feels like this happened eons ago. I’ve missed how her cheeks get red and her voice lowers into an awed whisper. Precious. Wonderful. Mine.

“What if they let him out before that?”

“He’s either going back to his cell or I’ll kill him for what he did to you.” I lean over and grab the black nail polish bottle. “But no one’s called us yet. So let me be here for you, Regan. Let me do this for you.”

She does, offering me her hand. I put on gloves, remove the old nail polish, and send her to wash her hands in the back.

When she’s back in my arms, I paint her nails with her hands flattened on the counter.

Focusing on the task at hand isn’t that easy.

Regan gets off on the way I touch her, on my cheek close to hers and the day-old stubble grazing her skin. She lets out these small gasps that get my dick hard, and fuck.

“I love you,” I whisper when I’m finished.

The words I never believed I’d ever say to a woman flow out of me.

“I love you.” Her head is warm on my shoulder.

I kiss her temple, placing the bottle aside. I’m almost there. Almost calm.

Almost forgetting about all the ways I plan on killing Lester.

For Regan’s sake, I pretend that almost means I’m already there. That nothing bothers me. I bring her fingers close to my mouth, blow on them, kiss each knuckle.

Sometimes she needs me to be this unhinged man who takes from her. Who’ll burn down cities and countries and continents for her. Other times, like now, she needs me to be gentle.

“You said you have something else planned for us today.” She sounds sleepy, eyes drooping.

“I did.”

Now that I’ve fulfilled her rape fantasy and helped her to get through that hurdle, I’m need to know what other kinks she might be into.

Sure, I can guide her through different kinks. I will.

But fuck if I don’t want her to tell me what she wants too.

“Tomorrow.” I press another kiss to her temple, wrapping my arms around her. “After you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

“Why?”

I chuckle at how she forces her eyes to open. “You’re exhausted. You need the rest.”

“Am not.”

“We’re going home.”

“Landon.”

Ignoring her, I turn to the repair room, ready to knock on the door, and let Rosemary know we’re leaving.

“No.” Rosemary’s voice is hushed. At first, I’m not even sure I’ve heard it. “No. No! Don’t you dare tell me—No!”

Regan freezes in my arms. Straightens her spine.

Sheer terror is etched on each one of her beautiful features.

“Landon,” she breathes.

“Yes, my love.” My lips quirk to the side. “He’s out.”

Let the games begin.