Chapter 31
Sutton
Miles had showed up at ten o’clock last night wearing sparkly gold glasses with a bottle of XO Patrón in one hand and two shot glasses in the other that read Swallow It All Like a Lady.
Needless to say, Sunday morning I woke up with a bit of a hangover.
I stayed in bed for an hour, scrolling on my phone until the smell of coffee wafting through the air coaxed me to my feet.
I found Miles in the kitchen, standing under a Happy Birthday, Bitch sign that he must’ve brought with him.
“Happy birthday, cookie. May your day be gayer than the roller-skating party I went to during Pride in San Francisco.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, and he passed me a mug and looked toward the living room.
“That bag was delivered for you. It hasn’t been easy to control myself the last hour while I waited for your lazy ass to get up. I already looked up the logo, so I know it’s from an expensive jewelry store. Hurry and open it before I do.”
I swallowed a healthy gulp of caffeine and carried the mug with me to the other room where a haughty-looking, matte-black bag was tied with a big red bow.
Inside was a card and a box. I slipped the note from the envelope first and read, Happy birthday, beautiful.
I can’t wait to fuck you with only this on.
Miles peered over my shoulder. “That’s hot.”
I pulled the card against my chest. “Nosy.”
“Open the damn gift already.”
I shook my head as I slipped the black box from the bag and flipped it open. Inside was a stunning choker with three strands of pearls connected to a large, diamond-encrusted sapphire clasp. The center stone had to be fifteen carats.
“Holy crap.” Miles gawked. “Is that…a collar?”
“What do you mean a collar?”
“It’s a necklace a Dom gives his submissive. It’s usually a leather choker or some shit.”
“Oh my God, really?”
Miles nodded. “I’m pretty sure it means you belong to him.”
I ran my finger over the sparkling sapphire. “Do you think this is real? The color is incredible.”
“It’s definitely real. I researched the store the minute Nestor handed me the bag. It’s high end. Most of their stuff is one-of-a-kind pieces. They don’t sell costume jewelry.”
I lifted the necklace from the box for a closer look. “It’s really beautiful.”
Miles smirked. “Good thing you got a rich Dom, because the leather ones you see in the window of adult stores are pretty damn tacky.”
I laughed. “I really don’t think it’s meant to be a collar. He bought me a pearl anklet too. The thought behind the pearls is actually really sweet.”
“Would it bother you if that’s what it was meant to be?”
I thought about it. I was crazy about the man. Not to mention, I was more than satisfied with how things were between Jagger and me in the bedroom. Plus, if I belonged to him, that meant he belonged to me. I shook my head. “I think I already belong to him, Miles.”
A few hours later, my best friend and I were heading out for brunch when the doorman stopped me. “I just tried to call you, Ms. Holland. You got another delivery from a messenger.”
“Oh?”
Nestor reached into a drawer and pulled out an envelope, extending it to me.
“Thank you.”
He tipped his hat. “Have a good day.”
“You, too.”
Miles wiggled his brows as he opened the door for us. “Another gift from your master?”
I turned the envelope over, expecting to see my mother or Jagger’s handwriting. But I froze with one foot out the door when I realized it wasn’t from either of them.
“Oh my God.” My heart pounded in my chest. “Miles, it’s a birthday card from him.”
***
Detective Wallace yanked up his pants by the front buckle as he paced in my living room. “So this is the first contact he’s made in six years?”
Miles reached over and covered my hands with his, stopping them from twisting and wringing. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it. “Thanks,” I whispered before turning my attention to the detective I hadn’t seen in years. “The last time he sent me anything was a card on my nineteenth birthday.”
“Why do you think he made contact again after all this time?”
I shook my head. “Maybe because I’m back in New York for my birthday? I moved out to California to go to school six years ago this fall.”
“But the cards stopped coming when you left?”
I looked to my mother, who had showed up an hour ago even though I’d told her she didn’t have to. “Mom? Did they really stop, or did you just tell me they did so I wouldn’t get upset?”
She shook her head. “They really stopped coming. I don’t live here anymore, but I did for more than a year after Sutton left while my husband and I did renovations to his place, and no card came. Plus, I sometimes still get mail here and the doormen just hold on to it. Nothing’s come.”
Detective Wallace scribbled some notes in his flip-top pad. “So if he knew you weren’t living here, this guy has likely been tracking you all this time.”
A chill ran down my spine. “But how? How does he know I’m back?”
“I don’t know.” Detective Wallace pulled something that looked like a tweezer from his pocket and used it to pick up the card. “Hopefully he left some DNA on this so we can find out.”
“What is she supposed to do?” my mother asked. “Sit here and wait for him to show up one day? What have the police done in the last six years to catch this man?”
“It’s still an open investigation, ma’am. But there isn’t much we can do without new evidence. Now we have some. We’ll also have the security video footage pulled from the lobby and see if that gives us anything.”
I looked to my mom. “Nestor said he was pretty sure the guy had been here before to deliver.”
Detective Wallace nodded. “If he used a messenger service to drop it off, the company should have records where the envelope was picked up. If he brought it himself, hopefully we’ll get him on camera.”
I felt all the color drain from my face. I don’t know why I’d assumed that the doorman recognizing him meant the card had been brought by a legit messenger. “You think he comes to this building so often that Nestor recognizes him? What does he want? What is he doing here?”
My front door burst open, and all four of our heads turned to watch Jagger storm in, followed by Edmund. I stood, and he rushed over and wrapped me in his arms.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
“I’m going to find this fucker and kill him.”
“That’s probably not a good thing to say in front of the police, son.” Detective Wallace stood and extended his hand. “Detective Richard Wallace. And you are?”
Jagger left the detective’s hand outstretched while he patted me down like he was looking for holes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a little shaken up, that’s all.”
He blew out a breath and finally acknowledged the waiting detective, clasping the man’s hand with his. “Jagger Langston.”
“And your relationship to Ms. Holland is…”
“I’m her…boyfriend.”
My mom’s forehead wrinkled. “Umm... Did I miss something here?”
“I’ll explain later, Mia,” Edmund said.
Detective Wallace asked a few more questions, none of which any of us had answers to. Eventually, he flipped his little notebook closed and used a handkerchief to pick up the birthday card and put it into a plastic bag. “I’ll be in touch once I know something.”
Jagger folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve already spoken to Commissioner Frank about having my security team kept in the loop.”
The detective frowned. “Great. You’re one of those. I do my job the same whether I have the boss up my ass or not. In fact, all that does is take time away from going after the bad guys.”
“Considering it’s been eight years since Sutton was assaulted, and you still haven’t caught the guy, I’m not entirely convinced that doing your job is enough.”
The detective’s face heated. Edmund noticed and stepped between the men. He laid a hand on Jagger’s shoulder. “Everyone is just a little upset right now. Thank you for coming so quickly, Detective.”
Wallace mumbled something I didn’t catch, then nodded to me before walking to the door with Edmund following.
My hands were clammy, and I felt like my clothes were sticking to me, even though the apartment had central air. “I’m going to go wash up and get changed.”
Jagger and Miles both stood at the same time, like they were planning on going with me. I smiled. “I’ll be fine.”
In the bathroom, I washed my face and doused my wrists with cold water, then I went to the bedroom and changed into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt.
It wasn’t lost on me that this had practically been my uniform for a full year after everything happened eight years ago.
When I’d finally spoken to a therapist, she’d told me it was likely part of my PTSD, and I was avoiding wearing anything that might attract a man’s attention.
I sat down on the bed, replaying the last hour in my mind until there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
Jagger slipped inside, shutting the door behind him.
I smiled halfheartedly. “Are you coming to check on me or looking for a place to hide from my mother? I’m sure she couldn’t wait to interrogate you about what’s going on between us.”
Jagger sat down on the bed next to me. “Both.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening. I thought I’d finally put this nightmare behind me and moved on.”
“I’m sorry, but I promise you, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
“I just feel so…violated. Like this guy has been watching me for who knows how long, and I had no idea. He might’ve been walking in and out of this building.” I looked around. “Could he have been inside this apartment and I didn’t know it? Am I that oblivious? I feel like such an idiot.”