Chapter 4 - August #2
We’ve got a recon date with Kate’s bedroom. I hate how the thought of breathing her scent in again affects me.
I take the lead upstairs, because some part of me wants to check that there’s nothing personal lying around, no underwear on her floor for Grayson to see.
I come across a shrine to fantasy romance.
Fairy lights halo the window nook, and I picture her curled under the amber glow, reading there.
Fake black leaves and red roses drape over a color-coded bookshelf.
Skulls, fantasy goblets, blades, and mythological creature ornaments adorn the shelves.
Why does it unnerve me that I want to keep looking?
I run a finger over 3D printed signs of Morally Grey Alley and From Once Upon a Time to Once He Tied Her Up.
A postcard. Naked. Erect. Dripping cum. Jesus, that’s not art, it’s porn. I turn away before Grayson catches me staring and drops another quip, or I get hard imagining Kate pleasuring herself while looking at it.
PJ3 groans when I move to her bedside table.
Half-burned Smut & Sage candles perfume the space with Bergamot and Sandalwood.
Her comforter is a patchwork quilt of cool purples, pinks, blues, and reds that contrast with the black edges.
Heart-shaped pillows and another dick plushy rest against the bedframe.
Everything about this room undoes my order. Nothing good can come of unraveling. I’m here to find evidence, not dwell on the past.
Desperate to find a smoking gun, I tear through every cupboard and drawer of her dresser. Socks, T-shirts, a matching onesie set for her and her dog. I come out covered in glitter. In her.
Don’t make it personal.
Fantasy art on a calendar draws me closer.
Dates with friends. Vet checkup for PJ3.
Her mom’s birthday. Errands and reminders.
Red circles on four days remind me of my sister marking out when she expects her period.
I take a picture of that for reference if needed. Professional curiosity, of course.
I drop to one knee and comb through her bedside table, hoping to find a flash drive.
Instead, I find a stash of dark romance novels.
Definitely not beach reads. Red flags. Her kind of Bible.
Kidnappers with abs, hitmen with feelings, and mobsters who go to war for their women.
Nothing like a fictional felon to get the clit pumping.
No wonder Kate eyeballed me at the festival like I was Chapter Sixteen’s fantasy.
I put PJ3 down and flick through the pages, hoping to find a hidden note tucked inside. Neon ink flickers on the pages. I can’t tell if it’s a book club thing and she’s vandalizing the smut for fun or encoding encrypted messages.
Orange for “I’ll burn down the world before I let him touch you again.”
Red for “Who did this to you?”
Green for “He’s grumpy and locks everyone else out but her.”
What the fuck is that? Is that what book girlies call romance?
Hell, it may be code. I won’t put it past Kate.
I need a degree in Thirst Theology to be fluent in clit-erature to understand this.
There’s way too much to photograph in one setting and too risky to remove when she’ll notice a book missing.
My eyes snare on the line, “She’s not my weakness, she’s my favorite sin.” The same protective feeling that overrode me last night rises again.
A shadow looms over me, and I snap out of my daze, realizing I’m being watched.
“Deciphering color-coded clit-lit or memorizing dirty talk for recon?” Grayson’s voice drips with smugness.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” I slam the book shut.
His hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes. “You’ve got my back, and I’ll peek over yours. Now put the smut away before I send in your application for the sixth book club member.”
No thanks. “And if you planted devices in her bathroom, I’ll kill you.”
He raises both palms. “Nope. Just snooping.”
“Good. Let her have some semblance of privacy.”
Meanwhile, PJ3 sits by my side, his tail swishing and head cocked, puppy eyes imploring me for another snack.
“I’m adopting the dog so he’s not subject to this.” I tuck him under my arm like a football and prepare to rescue him. “I need bleach for my brain, and he needs therapy. And the three of us need to forget this happened.”
My skin crawls like I’ve walked in on something I’m not meant to see. I shove the book back in, thumping on something that makes PJ3 bark.
Grayson stiffens. “What was that?”
I’m wholly unprepared for what I find behind the books.
Grayson whistles low at the five vibrators in a neat row. “There’s a whole Cirque du Sex happening in here!”
Decency tells me the proper thing to do is shut the drawer and walk away. Depravity prompts me to catalogue the damn things as part of her case file. Strictly detective curiosity, not perverted interest. It’s a good thing my friend’s distracted. It allows me to shift my dick in my pants.
When something buzzes, I snatch the toy before it detonates my dignity, and put it back where it belongs. “This is her personal stuff, and it’s off-limits.”
I slam the drawer shut before I do something stupid. Something inside gives a sharp crack.
He pushes his glasses up his nose. “I think you broke it.”
“What?” I brave another look. Yep, the silicone on the pink bullet is mangled.
We’re the worst stalkers on the planet.
If she finds out we’ve been here, it can blow our cover. She’ll have Romans crawling all over her place. What if they find our tech and trace it back to us? I shut that thought down fast.
“I’ll fix this mess.” I pocket the evidence and leave the bedroom window unlatched for the return drop. “Grab the cloner.”
We work our way down the stairs, collect our things, and lock up on the way out. PJ3 gives me sad eyes through the window as we retreat. I drop Grayson at the bunker with a growled threat to keep his mouth shut and hit the road solo.
An hour later, I’ve survived the perky clerk at Pleasure Chest calling me “Romeo,” and the shame of asking for a replacement bullet “before my girlfriend kills me.” The shade’s wrong, but close enough.
Back at Kate’s, I climb up the tree and hop onto her roof, slipping through the unlocked window. PJ3 hears me and races up to greet me as I unbox the damn thing.
“Sorry, buddy,” I tell him, laying the new toy in the stash with the others. “I want to take you with me, but I think she’ll notice.”
I let him climb my chest, and lick my chin. I bribe him with more jerky, and leave the rest in the pantry.
I pet his silky head. “If that asshole from next door comes back around, draw blood, okay?”
PJ3 barks as if he understands.
“Good boy.” I give him a final pat and climb to my feet.
He whines when I leave him behind.
Walking back to my Camaro, I hope like hell Kate doesn’t notice the upgrades, or use it while we’re watching. God help me. My self-control and Grayson’s lifespan won’t survive.