Chapter 19
TARA
Tonight was exhausting. Samaira and I had just returned from our recon mission.
Because of Knox fucking Steele, I had to regather all my intel, relocate all the Russian hideouts, and redouble my efforts to find them as soon as possible.
I didn’t need Knox blowing up all the hideouts at random and giving the Russians time to keep changing everything.
I had to beat him in finding all the hideouts.
That was why all of us women were taking double shifts in recon.
So I was dead tired on my feet when I stepped into my apartment.
Yet dark tendrils of anticipation churned in the deepest recesses of my mind when I saw the broken chain in front of my apartment.
My stomach swooped with that exhilaration at the thought of finding out what Knox Steele would’ve left behind for me today.
Because I was sure he’d have left something.
Shadow lunged at me with both of his paws resting on my chest as he tried to lick my face.
He smelled of blood and bone. Yep, the fucker was definitely here.
I grabbed Shadow’s snout and gave him a mock glare.
“You’re making friends, huh? Haven’t I taught you not to accept food from strangers, baby? ”
He all but panted in my face and tried to lick me again.
I let go of him, deciding to brush his teeth before sleeping, and turned to look at my house, searching once again for all the fucking recording devices.
“Let’s go hunt for the recording devices, Shadow.
I’ll give you treats later.” I clapped my hands and gave him the reference for the first recording device I found under the edge of the kitchen island.
Once Shadow and I spent ten minutes destroying all the recording devices from the living room—my breath turning shallow with every recording device that I smashed—I left Shadow to his dog bed in the living room and stepped into my bedroom.
For a second, the unkempt bed shocked me. My visitor, a.k.a. Mr. Perfectionist, never left my bed and comforter the way I’d left them. Was it because of the note I’d left him? I took a step closer to my bed and noticed the note lying on the comforter.
My fingers froze midway to picking up the note when my eyes fell on the comforter—my filthy, cum-soaked comforter.
My vision turned red as my heart pounded against my rib cage.
Heat, unlike anything I’d experienced before, pulsed under every inch of my skin as my gaze stayed glued to the filthy mess he’d made on my bed.
The thought of him stroking himself while standing in my room, over my bed, thinking about me had my panties soaked and my throat dry.
With shaking hands, I plucked the note that he’d placed strategically by the biggest wet patch.
My little criminal,
Good girls clean up their mess.
Bad girls get punished.
Your soon-to-be captor,
Knox Steele
I scrunched the note in my fist and threw it at the wall with a scream. Knox Steele was hell-bent on confusing and traumatizing me.
C’mon, baby, please be my girlfriend. You know I’m obsessed with you. You’re the only one I see. You’re the only one I want to be with.
“B…But, I don’t feel that way about you.”
Desperate, adoring eyes turned dark and unhinged, terrifying me to my bones. His hands clutched my arms so hard I knew they left their dark red imprints on my skin. He looked down at me as he snarled, “I refuse to watch you with anybody else. Either you’re mine, or you belong to no one.”
A loud bark at my back snapped me out of the dark web of memories I’d tried so hard to leave behind.
My heart raced for an entirely different reason as I took a seat on the revolving chair at my desk while Shadow tried to climb over my lap.
His loud pants and soft licks gently untangled me from the harrowing nightmares of my past, softly bringing me back to the present.
My eyes moved to the bed, and I clutched Shadow tighter to my chest. It’s not the same as that. I took a deep breath and laid my head on the back of my chair, staring at the ceiling.
Why did Knox’s action trigger me to that moment? Was I afraid of Knox, or was I afraid of Knox being just like the monster who ruined my face?
But if I was afraid of Knox, why did his presence, his stalking, his obsession leave me breathless and agonizingly aroused?
Why did I want to go and fucking lick that damn comforter?
Why did I have to be so fucked up about my own damn desires?
Had that one moment in my life permanently ruined me for my own kinks?
“What are we gonna do, Shadow baby?” I whispered in my baby’s neck, clutching him in my arms, feeling his rapid heartbeat against mine, breathing in his strength and loyalty and his motherfucking fighting spirit.
I changed the bedsheets—just for that, I’d screw him over extra hard—took a freezing cold shower to wash away the scalding heat of my nightmares, and went to sleep.
I absolutely did not dream about feeling eyes on me while I slept. I did not think about Knox Steele jerking off while standing over my bed, his eyes staring obsessively and unabashedly at me. I most definitely did not wake up writhing on my bed with my fingers buried in my drenched pussy.
“Fucking Knox ruining my own bed for me,” I muttered, unlocking the fancy door of his apartment with a few taps of my tablet. Did he think he was the only one who could do that?
Now that I’d connected my tablet to his Wi-Fi network, his entire apartment, his phone, and every single security system in his building were under my control.
I knew he was at his precinct because I had two of my ladies monitoring the area around the building, while I had one girl listening to the recording device at the precinct.
I’d already disconnected the two cameras in his house from my phone.
For the next few hours, Knox Steele’s apartment was my playground, and I was ready to play my heart out.
I locked the large front door behind me and turned to face the apartment. It wasn’t as massive as mine, but it still was a large apartment. The sun streaming from the three massive double-hung windows created shadows on the large sectional couch that faced a giant sixty-five-inch TV screen.
A small round dining table separated the living area from the open kitchen. The black granite kitchen island was lined with two dark-wood barstools. The large wall behind the TV screen was painted dark gray, while the rest of the house was all white.
I dropped onto the couch and put my feet up on the center table, which was completely devoid of any knickknacks. The house was fucking spotless. I noted the two cameras that I’d already disconnected. He wouldn’t be alerted to any presence while I turned this place upside down.
Starting with the very couch that I sat on. I opened my backpack and pulled out the first item of destruction.
A jar of roaches. Slowly, I opened the lid and let those little fuckers loose in the crack between the cushions.
Next, I walked into the kitchen and opened his fridge, since mine is of great interest to him. Apparently, the guy believed in healthy eating. Every shelf was loaded with fresh veggies and meat. The shelves on the door had sparkling water, beer cans, and milk.
I plucked the carton of milk, opened it, and spat in it. Take that, you stalkery fuck.
Then I put my hair in a ponytail and rearranged his entire kitchen, moving all the pots and pans from one shelf to another and changing the spots for every single item.
By the time I was done, three hours had gone by, and I was hungry. I opened his well-stocked fridge and prepared myself a pan-fried chicken and broccoli. Because my mama had raised me right, I put the leftovers in the fridge for my stalker. Or stalkee. Whatever the situation was right now.
Unlike him, I did not clean up the kitchen after myself. Because fuck him.
Since I was exhausted after arranging the kitchen, cooking, and eating to my heart’s content, I needed to move to the bedroom.
The hallway to the bedroom had two more doors—one led to a guest bedroom, while the other was a washroom. I pulled apart the neatly arranged comforter and the bedsheets of that bedroom while I broke the handle of the toilet’s flush tank on my way to Knox’s bedroom.
The door to his bedroom was slightly ajar. For some reason, my body refused to barge into the room, kicking and screaming. Instead, I took a soft step, pushing the door fully open. For some insane reason, I needed to prepare myself before slipping into my stalker’s sanctuary.
My feet froze at the threshold. At the writing on the large whiteboard hung on the wall right across from his massive bed.
Don’t have too much fun without me, my little criminal.
My little criminal. I couldn’t stop the amused smile that slipped onto my face. Dammit. Why did he have to challenge me and insistently prod at every one of my reckless impulses?
His bedroom had a lot more personality than the rest of the house.
The giant California king-size bed sat at the center of the wall, the sheets and comforter made so well that they rivaled those of a luxury hotel.
Who the hell has the time for making a bed so perfectly first thing in the morning? Fucking loser.
The nightstand on one side of the bed had a modern, minimalist lamp with two books, whereas the one on the other side had two small plants.
A painting of an ocean with a lighthouse on the shore decorated the rich navy wall right behind the bed.
A five-foot-wide work desk sat right across the bed, with not a single hint of a clue laid bare on it.
The desk was literally empty except for a pen stand, another fucking lamp, and a little plant.
However, a small photograph was placed along the wall.