Chapter 26
KNOX
Awet scrape of tongue ran along my cheek, making me jump out of bed, my gun pointed at the offender. The offender being my almost best friend, Shadow. “Whoa, buddy. This is not how you wake me up.”
He gave a low growl. I gave him a few scritches behind his ear and went to the restroom. “Wait for me. We’ll go for a walk and grab a coffee.”
Once I had freshened up, I grabbed Shadow, and we walked to the nearest coffee shop. “Do you know what your mom likes?” I asked him, as if he was going to answer.
Knowing my Tara, she was a baddie from the outside and softy to her very core. Yesterday’s moment in the subway was clear proof of that. My Tara hated when people stared at her. She’d flinched like people were disgusted by her, as if she didn’t belong.
While many people did stare, most of those gazes were filled with horror, not disgust. My Tara was a stark reminder to every person of the horrors and the monsters that lived among us.
It wasn’t her face that terrified people.
It was the thought that it could be them that terrified them when they looked at her.
But my girl was in too much pain and trauma to see that. Maybe her own emotions blinded her to other people’s view of her, or maybe she refused to see it right now.
But she would.
One day, she would stop caring about other people’s—fucking strangers’—opinions and thoughts about her.
One day, she would only care about my fucking eyes on her. My fucking opinion on her. My desires, my obsession, my touch, my fucking feelings for her.
Because that was how I felt about her.
So to cheer her up and show her that I was a good roommate—a forever roommate because I wasn’t spending a day without my beauty—I got something for her soft heart today.
We’ll see if she prefers that or if she likes her coffee as dark as Shadow Panther.
I also picked up a little gift for her on the way.
Once back to the apartment, Shadow went about playing with his chew toy while I started preparing some breakfast, which consisted of heating two of the already stacked Tupperware containers. The grilled breakfast burrito sizzled on the hot pan as I reheated it.
Right as I was plating the third burrito, my little beauty walked in, rubbing her eyes.
Shadow gave out a loud bark and lunged at my girl, making her giggle as she dropped on the floor and started giving him kisses.
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. How did this beauty turn into a rage-filled little monster, slaughtering men mercilessly?
Once she’d showered Shadow with all her kisses—stupid fucking dog was going to be dethroned within a week—she walked to the island where I stacked the fourth burrito. “Coffee?” I asked, nudging the to-go cup toward her with my little gift on top.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “A rose?”
Before I could even say a word, she picked up the stem and brought the flower close to her nose and smelled it. Her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes closed in pleasure. My cock hardened, and my chest expanded with relief and joy. I vowed to bring her flowers every chance I got.
When she opened her eyes and met mine, I gave her a smile. “I wanted to show you how happy I am that you agreed to let me live with you.”
“You blackmailed me into it,” she grumbled, but smelled the rose again before grabbing the cup of coffee. “You know how I like my coffee?”
I tilted my head, meeting her eyes. “Do I?”
With her eyes fixed on mine, she took a sip. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and a little moan of delight escaped her lips. My cock immediately took notice as I got lightheaded for a second. “Hot vanilla latte with lots of caramel syrup.”
“You love it, huh?” I asked, my eyes glued to the little drop at the bottom of her lips. If she didn’t wipe it off in the next three seconds, I wouldn't be held responsible for my actions.
She must’ve heard my warning in her head because her tongue made a quick swipe at that little drop. Heat rushed through my body at that little gesture, my cock throbbing with need. “It’s a treat, for sure. No way I could drink that every day.”
“What do you drink every day?”
She jerked her head toward the coffee machine on the counter behind me. “A plain black. Sometimes, I’ll add a teaspoon of sugar and some cream, depending on my mood.”
“What mood makes you want to add that?”
Curiosity shone through her eyes, as if it were ridiculous for me to ask such a question. “The day after a mission.”
“Ahh. Makes sense.”
She took another sip of her coffee while I took our plates to the dining table.
“You didn’t have to,” she said, gesturing to the plates.
“I eat breakfast in the morning. I’ll prepare for both of us. You need to keep those muscles of yours fueled.”
A confident smile took over her entire face as we took a seat across from each other at the dining table, and she flexed her biceps. “Aren’t they fueled enough already?”
If that wasn’t an invitation to touch her, I didn’t know what was.
Immediately, I leaned forward and squeezed her bicep, touching her arm without having to fight her for the very first time.
Her gasp echoed in the short distance between us, and an electric charge zapped down my arm, raising all the hair along the back of my neck.
Keeping my hand closed around her arm, because she hadn’t actually asked me to remove my touch, I said, “They’re perfect. ”
Her chest rose and fell as I loosened my grip to a soft touch. If she thought I was going to let go of her arm without being asked to, she was out of her mind. Keeping my eyes on her, I grabbed the burrito in one hand and took a bite, quietly caressing the top of her arm.
Something was dangerously addictive about my little beauty.
It was impossible to comprehend that I didn’t even know about the existence of Tara a few weeks ago, but today, I would destroy anything that kept me away from her.
Today, she was my obsession.
“How’s your leg?” she asked, grabbing the burrito with both of her hands and biting into it, not asking me to remove my hand.
I shrugged, looking down at my plate to hide the overwhelming relief that hit my chest. “I grabbed two painkillers. Should be fine for the rest of the day if I don’t hit the field.”
She nodded. “You know, as much as I stalked you, I don’t really know much about you, while you seem to know a whole lot more about me.”
I swallowed my bite. “What do you want to know?”
“Are you really a psychopath?”
I nodded. “Clinically diagnosed as antisocial personality disorder. Most people call it a psychopath. My mother, however, tried her best to channel my antisocial and, you could say, unhealthy obsessions and impulses, into more law-abiding, more socially acceptable actions.”
A frown appeared between my girl’s eyebrows. “So you didn’t become a detective because you care about catching criminals and bringing innocent people to justice?”
My hand coiled tighter around her arm. “I do care about catching criminals. Nothing feels better than solving a difficult case, hunting and chasing down a criminal, and putting him behind bars.”
“But you don’t care about innocent people?”
I see what she was saying. I shrugged, leaning closer to my Tara.
“I care about no one. Only you. But I do care when criminals go unpunished, when justice isn’t served, and innocent people end up paying the price.
I hate having to let a criminal go. I hate when the monsters of this world strike upon the helpless and those weaker than them.
Fucking cowards. Those are the things that I feel about innocent people and the criminals.
I realize the injustice, the inequality, of this world.
But I don’t feel their emotions. I don’t lose my sleep over the people I don’t know or don’t care about.
The only person I’ve lost my sleep over is you, my little criminal. ”
“Why? I’m just a criminal, aren’t I?”
Her eyes were bright with challenge and nerves. I leaned closer. “Despite being a criminal, you saved my life. You challenged me. You were unafraid to play with me. You came on my fucking uniform. So no, you’re not just a criminal. You’re a worthy opponent. A worthy partner now.”
“So it isn’t pity that has you glued to me like this? It isn’t my scars that have you obsessed with me?”
This was important to her. Even though I didn’t feel her emotions, I understood the logic behind her question. So I was careful and honest in my answer. “You know, as well as I do, that I was obsessed with you way before I saw your face.”
“Your change of heart was after seeing my face. Until then, you were chasing me, stalking me, with the motive to arrest me.”
“I could’ve shot you, then arrested you the first time I saw you in that dingy little basement.
I could’ve arrested you several times after that.
I didn’t. I was obsessed with your daredevil attitude, your ballsiness, your power, your mischief, your strength.
Your face simply revealed the strength of your character to me.
I’d rather play and fuck and own a strong woman than put her behind bars. ”
Her cheeks flushed a deep red, a softness pooling in her wary eyes. But she still scowled at me. “You don’t own me. You never will.”
“I’ll own every inch of you, little criminal. Just like you own every inch of me.”
Her mouth pressed tight at that, a clear disbelief shining in her gaze. I let her process my words. My beauty needed time to get where I was.
“So when do you leave?” she asked, casually diverting the topic. I let her.
Her question was just a reminder of the horrible reality that I’d have to remove my hand from her arm soon. That I’d be away from her for the next few hours. “In half an hour.”
She nodded, and we silently finished our breakfast, with my hand firmly, happily, obsessively glued to her arm.