Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Mac
While I never expected to see E killing someone, let alone his dad, the sight is unexpectedly hot. He doesn’t stand there and meekly allow his father to spin lies, he fights back. For a brief second, I think a bullet is headed my way, but when E sees the danger, he turns the gun on his father.
The view of Thomas Miller’s blood and brains brings me a sense of finality, even if it means I don’t get to make his pain last. Seeing his father’s insides on the outside has a different effect on E, who falls to his knees in the space between the body and the desk.
“Are you alright?” I ask, taking a step closer with my hand out.
Not everyone can take death well, but I don’t need him vomiting on the crime scene. Or crying over a man who doesn’t deserve his grief. Plus, I find I want him to be okay. I need my pet to be happy and safe.
“I’m…” E looks up at me and I see dry eyes. “I think I’m a little in shock, Sir.”
Taking a deep breath, I crouch down to caress his face. I didn’t like being apart from him for even a day. “Am I?”
E’s face scrunches up in confusion, but he leans into my touch. “What?”
Surely he has to feel some annoyance of betrayal at how I left him in Manhattan. For all he knew, I wasn’t coming back for him. I need to make myself clear.
“Your Sir. Are you still mine, E?”
He takes a minute to process my question and then E looks me in the eyes. The corner of his full lips lifts in a smirk, and I rejoice internally to see it again. “I think I’ve been yours since we met.”
“Good,” I nod, holding out my hand to lift E to his feet. Pulling him against my body, I tilt his head back to make him look at me. All I find in his eyes is devotion. “Because I plan to keep you.”
“Keep me?” E asks, hope in his voice before he licks his lips.
Not able to resist, I smash my mouth down on his.
It’s rough, raw and full of passion, as if we were parted for months instead of only a day.
E’s hands grip my sides tight before he moves them to my shoulders.
He’s on his tiptoes to accommodate for our six-inch height difference, but he uses a bit of force to try and keep me in place.
There’s no need for force, I’m happy right where I am. Kissing my pet while his father’s still-warm body lays at our feet.
Slowing the kiss, E whimpers in protest, but I pull back just enough to see his face. I trail the hand I have at the back of his head around to trace the collar I locked onto him when I still wasn’t sure why I cared so much. Now, I know the truth.
“I promise to keep you forever, E.”
Whether it’s my vow or the use of his name, my pet’s eyes go wide and his mouth slack. Chuckling, I close his mouth and step back to hold his hand. E squeezes my hand, a grin slipping onto his face, and I look back down at his father.
“We need to stage this scene,” I tell him, analyzing the situation. I drop the bloody knife on the desk. Let them think he stabbed his own men and took his life. The gun is in his hand after all.
“Oh, are we ready to get back on mission now? Sir…” Di’s rhythmic teasing breaks the last bit of the bubble I created with E. “Because Miller’s men are twenty minutes out with the helicopter.”
“We have fifteen minutes to get out of here,” I explain to E. I grab Miller’s briefcase and pull E past the desk and out to the hall. “Grab anything you need.”
E glances down at the suitcase I assume he left in the hall, which I used to kill Booker. There’s no blood on it, so I won’t mind lugging it with us. Booker turned out to be more muscle than brains, and he’d been easy to trip over the piece of luggage before I stabbed him in the gut.
“You still have that picture of my mom in your apartment?” E asks, barely sparing a glance at the dead bodyguard. I nod and he tugs me over the body and pool of blood to the stairs. “Everything else is replaceable.”
After that, we don’t hesitate. I lead E around to turn the power back on, confirming with Di that the cameras will remain off until we’re out of site. Racing down the stairs to the beach, we hear a helicopter approaching.
“Duck,” I say while not waiting for E to comply. We crouch down between the end of the stairs and some tall beachgrass. The helicopter gets closer until I see the lights of it descending towards the front of the Miller property. “Let’s move.”
“Neighbors’ cameras are on a loop, you’re good to go,” Di assures me.
Running on sand makes us slower, and I feel like E is holding his breath the whole way to the set of stairs that take us up to my car. We can’t hear the helicopter over the waves anymore, but they may have also found the bodies by now.
The gate guards rushed to the house when the power was cut, and they were dead too. They may not have been responsible for the crimes of Thomas Miller, but killing them got me to E faster.
Sliding into the black sedan Di rented me under a fake name, I thank her foresight for the tinted windows.
We can make it back into the city without being easily caught on camera.
Still, I hand E a second hat from my bag in the back before turning the car on, cranking up the heat.
We’re warm from the run and adrenaline, but it’s a lot colder than he’s dressed for in a polo shirt.
“Put this on and don’t take it off until we’re back at my place,” I tell him, putting the car into drive. “Buckle up, pet.”
E doesn’t speak, but he does what I ask. Switching my phone from the earpiece to speaker, Di keeps me updated as we go, having me veer off the main road five minutes later.
“Cops incoming.”
“I tried to set the scene like a murder suicide.”
“I’ll write something up,” Di says cryptically.
“What’re you going to write?” E asks, finally breaking out of his stupor.
“This ain’t my first rodeo," Di replies in an attempt at a southern accent. “He can’t live with himself anymore. His men are complicit. He leaves everything to charity.”
E snorts and I glance at him as I slow for a stop sign before heading back to Montauk Highway. “No one would believe that. He only donated to charity if it curried favor with a business associate or he needed to pay less taxes.”
The use of past tense for his father gives me some assurance E has accepted what happened. “Di will figure it out and make it look real. She knows what to do.”
“Like I said,” Di retorts. “Going silent. Here if you need me.”
As we cruise along the almost empty highway in the early morning, E and I settle into a comfortable silence. He rests his head against the headrest, face towards me, and I can’t help reaching out to take his hand. He squeezes back and I feel his shiver.
“Are you cold?”
“No,” E shakes his head. “Glad it’s over. Just thinking about how close I came to losing you. We were about to leave for Cuba, and then he was taking us to Russia. What if you couldn’t find me there?”
Moving my hand up to his neck, I glance over to catch his frown. I hurry to reassure him. “You were never lost to me. Your collar has a tracking device. I will always find you. Though I don’t plan to let you out of my sight again anytime soon.”
Reaching up to feel the skin-warmed metal below his throat, he touches the collar over my fingers. E blinks and then smiles. “You always knew where I was?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he nods and drops his hand.
“‘Okay,’ what?” I ask, not sure I asked a question.
“You can keep me forever, Sir.”
If I have my way, I will.