The Alpha Bodyguards Books #4-6

Chapter Forty-Two

S he left.

The gate closed.

She fucking left .

Adrenaline surged. Muscles gripped in rage, the urge to go after her relentless, I stood there.

Still.

Then I counted.

Smiles, laughs, touches, glances, expressions, words, orgasms—except I couldn’t count. I couldn’t fucking add up the numbers and average and analyze. I couldn’t fucking count her reactions because I’d stopped counting.

Goddamn it, I’d stopped counting .

I’d let my guard down. I’d let her in. I’d given her the plan. I’d given her everything.

Then I’d gotten complacent.

Now she was gone, and I had no idea why.

Her voice whispered in my head. I think I like you.

My nostrils flared. I walked in to my closet.

Would it always be like this?

Fuck. Shirts, pants, boots, clothes on.

A week of your kind of sex, and I’d be carrying twins.

I rushed out of the closet. Carpet, hardwood floors, six glass sliders—I closed them.

I’ve never felt anything even close to this.

My hand went through my hair. I turned.

Later, baby, I have to shower.

Her bag. The bed, the bench, the pillows.

I’m processing.

The comforter. Disheveled, used, wet.

You’re serious, aren’t you?

Her words, they kept coming.

Don’t do that to me .

Don’t make me wait.

You’re going to make me say it?

I wanted you.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK. I walked out of the bedroom. I ignored the boy’s room. Stairs, railing, nineteen steps, hardwood floors, glass, chrome, steel, white.

This house, it’s too much.

You’re a lot to take in.

Eight open sliders, pool, loungers, dock, boat. I slammed the glass doors shut and locked them. Turning, my gaze hit the coffee table.

Plates, juice, waters.

You cook almost as well as you kiss.

I don’t do rules.

I’m not ready.

I grabbed the plates. Kitchen, sink, dishes… fridge.

Maybe you weren’t the only one waiting.

I slammed the plates in to the stainless-steel sink. Porcelain shattered, and the sound echoed through the empty house. Chest heaving, blood rushing, I grabbed the edge of the counter. She’d left. She’d fucking left . Without words.

A cell phone vibrated.

My heart jumped, and I looked to where I’d left my cell.

Except it wasn’t there. Two feet to the left, it was on the edge of the island. Face up.

I picked it up.

Incoming text.

I swept across the screen.

Unprogrammed number.

Come on. Pls call me. I can’t take this.

Then there were five older texts above it.

I scrolled up and read them in order.

Hey, it’s Summer again. I need to talk to u. Call me.

Pres, call me .

Come on. It’s not like I’m tryin to suck your cock. Ok, maybe, LOL. JK. Unless, u know… ur up for that? Haha, just call me. XO

Alright, u have to call me. U kno what this is about. We need to talk about it. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Pls answer me. Need u bad Pres. Call if u don’t wanna text. Would rather hear your voice anyway.

Mercy read these.

All of them.

Deleting the texts, I blocked the number like I should’ve after the first text came through earlier this afternoon. Then I dialed Mercy.

Her phone went straight to voice mail.

I pulled up the app I used to track her phone. No location available. She’d shut her phone off. I dialed her house phone. Four rings, voice mail. I hung up, pulled up a ride share app and ordered a car. Two minutes out.

I dialed the kid.

“Hey, Preston, what’s up?” he asked cheerfully.

“Where the fuck are you?”

His tone went all business. “On assignment. What do you need?”

For him to get his shit under control. “Where?” I demanded.

“Amherst estate.”

“Oh my God, is that Preston?” I heard the blonde in the background. “Let me talk to him!”

“Keep your fucking phone on lockdown. She lifted my number from you.” It was the only way she could’ve gotten it.

“Oh, fuck. I’m sor—”

“Handle your shit.” I hung up and got an alert that someone was at the front gate.

I grabbed my keys and walked out.