Chapter Fourteen
Jaxon
I’m a mess of emotions. Something I don’t deal with well.
He kissed her.
Sam fucking kissed her, and I want to ring his goddamn neck for this. I want to gut him, then strangle him with his intestines. I want to chop his dick off and make him choke on it while he bleeds out. I could saw his fucking head off right now, and not bat an eye about it.
I’m furious like I’ve never felt before.
He kissed my girl.
My goddamn girl.
His lips were on hers for nearly three seconds—trust me, I know. I watched it a hundred times, and a hundred times I had to talk myself out of going down to the apartment and tearing his head from his neck with my bare hands.
But… she told him off. He left. They had a fight.
Small wins, I guess. But it isn’t enough. He deserves pain for touching something that doesn’t belong to him.
I don’t want my little dove to be upset, but I sure as fuck don’t want them together.
While he’s gone, I watch her. The angle of the cameras in the bedroom don’t allow me to see what she’s doing on the computer, but I assume it’s prep for class or choosing classes considering she’s so engrossed.
It’s peaceful for a while. Calm and quiet.
Her on the computer, me sitting upstairs from her, watching.
He comes home, though. Of course, he comes home. Where else would he go?
I watch as he takes his meds, as he knocks on her door. I hear their exchange, then watch as he mopes to the couch and lies down. The pill works quickly, and soon enough his eyes are closed.
My phone dings with a message from Solar Surge. It can only be one person—so I snatch the phone up quickly, and my heart nearly beats out of my chest.
Golden_Phoenix: When can you be here?
I want to say now. Right fucking now. I want to tell her I’m feet away, just a few floors, and I’ll be down there in a second, but that will ruin it all. It’ll ruin everything.
Fucking patience can suck my dick.
My fingers shake as I type out the message.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: When do you want me to be?
When the response comes through, I can’t help but grin.
Golden_Phoenix: Tonight?
LMCYTTWACYAGG: I was hoping you’d say that.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Send me your address. Leave the rest to me.
Golden_Phoenix: Do you need a key or something?
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Won’t it be more fun without it?
I chuckle because it has been more fun not having a key, though now that I do have one, it is quite convenient.
Golden_Phoenix: But what if you can’t get in?
LMCYTTWACYAGG: No faith.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Just leave it to me, mine.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: I can’t wait to see you.
Golden_Phoenix: I have no limits. Do what you want to me. But we should pick a safe word, just in case.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Good idea. It’s your word, so you choose it.
Golden_Phoenix: I’ll go with Phoenix.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Smart. See you soon, baby.
My dick is hard as I think about her pussy wrapped around me. I need to prepare for this, but I can hardly think straight. It’s been too long since I’ve had her, and finally, tonight, I’ll have her again.
Do I feel bad that it’s under false pretenses?
No. Not fucking really.
One way or another, she’s going to realize she belongs to me. Maybe this is the push she needs in the right direction.
The hours drag on, but I keep my composure, as difficult as it is.
Knowing she’s waiting for me spurs something on…
something that is not easy to control—a primal eagerness like I’ve never felt before.
I even shut off the screens so I can’t see her.
I want it to be a complete surprise when I walk into the room and find her waiting for me.
For me.
The adrenaline and excitement as I think about what could happen, has me almost giddy.
Like that first time I chased her through the woods.
It’s not only the act, it’s the unknown.
The randomness of it. The chase, the hunt.
Tonight, there is no chasing, and there is no hunting.
But I still have to work for what I want.
Like an animal looking for food. It won’t be provided to me on a platter.
I have to work for it, and that makes the reward so much fucking sweeter.
Shortly after I told Sailor I would see her soon, she’d texted me again to warn me about Sam asleep on the couch.
She said I would have to be very, very careful not to wake him.
She told me to channel my inner Mario—whatever that means.
It did make me laugh, though, because if only she knew I’d already prepared…
that I’ve mentally ran through this exact scenario a thousand times and I’ve already done it a few.
I have to make this believable, have to pretend I’m someone else.
I have no idea how I’m going to do that when I get my hands on her.
How will I pretend I don’t know where to touch her to get the best sounds?
How will I pretend I don’t already know her favorite parts?
How can I make sure I don’t touch her the way I did, the way I so badly still want to?
Would that give it away? Could my hands on her be enough to ruin this?
I don’t know, but it’s worth the risk—everything with her is.
I have to pretend this is the first time all over again.
I have to pretend that I don’t know her, which is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
I can revel in it later, when this is done, and I’m back upstairs.
I can recall every little touch, every whimper.
Waiting and breaking into the apartment will be the easiest part. It’s everything that comes after that’ll be a challenge.
And when the time finally comes, I call for every bit of confidence I can muster, because for the first time when it comes to her, I am unsure. I am scared.
I fucking hate how I’ve lost her… and the more I think about it, the more I try to understand and figure out ways to fix it.
Every day I wonder if I should call or text, but I’m afraid of what I’ll get in return.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.
I’ve never loved someone the way I love Sailor.
The way I feel about her is beyond obsession.
It’s something deep, primal, something on another level entirely.
I don’t know what to call it because even love doesn’t cut it.
I turn the screen on for just a moment to make sure Sam is still asleep on the couch, before I turn it off again and exit my apartment.
The ride down the elevator is faster than usual, everything about it loud as hell thanks to the silence of the night.
The hallway is dark, and when I stop in front of her door, I pull my mask down a little further before trying the knob.
I smirk when I find it locked. She doesn’t want to make this easy for me.
She wants to see how badly I want this. And that’s half the fun to her.
She needs to know she’s worth the fight.
And fuck, I’d battle everyone on this planet if only she’d ask me to.
I’d fight for her honor, cut off the heads of all my enemies and put them on stakes.
I will go back to my medieval roots, if it’s what she wanted.
Anything she wants from me, I will give it. All the fucked up parts of me. The best parts of me. My time, my blood, my fucking soul.
I wish she knew that I no longer belong to myself, that I am hers… always and forever. I thought she knew that. I thought she understood how serious this was to me… I don’t know where I went wrong.
I don’t use the key, in case she’s waiting on the other side and listening. The lock-picking kit works just as well at this point, and I’m careful and quiet as I step inside the apartment, like I have many other times.
My heart is racing, my gaze going to the couch and the lump that’s on it, covered by a thin blanket.
I should slit his throat. It’s the least of what he deserves, but she doesn’t deserve that. So, I won’t. I should teabag his ass though.
Instead of doing any of that, I move past him, holding my head high, and go right for her door. It’s closed, and when I turn the knob, ready to get in there and be next to her again, I find this one locked too.
“You really aren’t making things easy for me,” I mutter quietly, pulling the kit back out. This lock, funny enough, is more work than the other.
When it finally gives, I pocket the kit before turning the knob and slipping inside.
The room is dark, dim light from the street and parking lot flooding in through the open curtains. The room faintly smells like the asshole it belongs to, but her scent is taking over.
The bed is in the middle of the wall opposite me, but she’s positioned on the right side, as she usually is. Her cell is resting on the end table, and the first thing I think is to take it so she can’t call for help. Crazy, I know, but she’d love it.
My feet carry me toward the bed, and I’m crawling onto it before I can think better of it. She shifts under the sheets, taking in a sharp breath, waking up. Her body goes stock still when she feels me over her.
I press the sheets tightly around her with my body, using my hands and legs to press her down so she can’t move. Her breathing gets heavier, louder, and my grin gets wider.
“I made it,” I whisper. “Now you really are mine.”