Chapter 6
Nicole
“Insufferable man,” I grumble, punching my pillow. Once my bedroom was straightened and packed up, he sent me to bed like I was a small child. Granted it was two in the morning by the time we got it wrangled into a sense of normalcy, but there’s still a lot to be done before they arrive later today.
“I heard that,” he hollers down the hallway. “Get some sleep, Nini. It’s going to be really busy in a few hours.”
“Fine,” I hiss out between clenched teeth.
If there’s something I hate with a passion, it’s being told what to do. It makes me want to do the exact opposite, only if I did that, he’d know since it involves the remainder of the kitchen, and a few odds and ends in various closets.
“Not trying to be an ass, Nicole. It’s been a long day for you is all. My job is to make sure you’re safe and protected, and one of those ways I can do this is ensure you get enough sleep. Sheathe your claws, little one, and get some rest. We’ll knock the rest of it out when Tressa and the brothers get here with the truck.”
“I’m sorry I’m being such a witch.”
I feel strange talking through walls, but since he can hear me, and I am snuggled under my covers, I don’t want to get out of bed. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact I’m his mate. I mean, up until Tressa and Chaos, I thought shifters were make-believe, a fictional creature for lonely women to fantasize about. Only… they’re not fake, because now, my best friend is one of them! Wait, I wonder if that means I’ll be one too once Stealth claims me; it’s something to ask Tressa when we’re alone because I don’t want to sound stupid around him.
“You’re not a witch, or a bitch, or a shrew, Nini. You’re a woman who’s been thrown into a situation she’s never faced before. Besides, if anyone calls you any of those names, they’ll answer to me. Now, go to sleep.”
“Good night, Stealth.” I wish I had the guts to tell him I was scared, because I am, so he’d come in and hold me while I sleep, but I’m not quite that brave. Maybe someday.
I hear his chuckle since I just had to say one more thing, but his voice is like a caress when he replies, “Good night, Nini.”
* * *
I manage to sleep for a few hours, but the warring emotions of excitement over Tressa arriving, and fear over the fact someone’s broken into my home at least twice now that I’m aware of, has me ready to hit the floor running and bolt from this town. Grabbing the clean clothes I sat aside for today, I head into the bathroom to take a shower. Stealth wasn’t clear about the timing of the club’s arrival, but I’m pretty sure I’ll have enough time to head into town to pick us up some pastries and drinks before we get started with the remaining packing that needs to be wrapped up. Hopefully, he’ll let me go by myself, although I should be fine since nothing’s happened when I’ve been out and about, only within the walls of my home.
As I finish dressing, I’m working on my arguments for why I should be able to do this, only to come up short when I realize I’m alone and there’s nobody here to argue with. I quickly strip my bed, then take my sheets and the towel I used and throw them into the washing machine, so they’ll be ready to pack. Since Stealth’s not inside, I put my shoes on, grab my purse and keys, then head outside toward my car.
“Where are you going, Nini?” he asks, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me. I shriek and spin around to face him, only to see him smirking while casually leaning against the side of my house. Well, apartment building, but Tressa and I have lived here so long now that I forget we’re in an apartment complex sometimes.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I yell, my heart still racing a mile a minute. “I’m gonna run out and get us some pastries and coffee.”
“You sure that’s a wise idea?”
“I should be perfectly fine. Nothing’s happened when I’ve been out and about around town before, Stealth. I’m not going to be gone for long.”
“Whoever it is seems to be ramping up, sweetheart. That’s my only concern.”
“I’ll be fine,” I airily reply. “Plus, I’m sure you’ve gotten an update on the club’s estimated time of arrival, which is why you’re out here.”
He chuckles but nods. “Yeah, they should be here in the next thirty or so minutes. Go, get the coffees and pastries, I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”
I’m unsure where my boldness comes from, but I reach out and squeeze his hand, then quickly turn and head to my car as though the hounds of hell are traipsing on my heels. As I climb inside and sit in the driver’s seat, I take a quick peek at him from under my lashes, and notice that he hasn’t taken his gaze off me.
* * *
“I should be perfectly fine. Nothing’s happened when I’ve been around town before, Stealth. I’m not going to be gone for long.”
Right now, I want to kick my own ass for throwing this out into the damn universe. As I work feverishly at the knots in the rope that are tying my hands together, I can’t believe I was so stupid. In fact, I hope at this point that the club has arrived at my place, because at least Tressa will know where I came to get the donuts and pastries. At least then there’s a chance they might be able to find me.
Fucking Jeremy. Still the bane of my existence after all this time. Apparently, because he’s the jerk who’s been breaking into the house and tearing our shit up. It’s been over a decade at this point since we broke up, so I’m quite confused as to why he decided to snatch me. Well, he actually stuck a gun in my back and whispered that unless I wanted the clerk to get hurt, I wouldn’t utter a peep.
“Not sure why you refuse to tell me what I want to know, Nicole,” he sneers.
“If I understood what it is you’re asking me about, maybe I would tell you, Jeremy,” I reply. “Why have you been breaking into my home and snooping through our stuff?”
There’s a part of me that now wants to leave everything behind or maybe even burn it all since he had his hands on our things. But common sense prevails; it would cost too much to replace all of it, although I think I’ll be buying new panties and bras. Just the thought that he might’ve pawed through my underwear drawer creeps me out.
“Didn’t have to break in, bitch, I’ve still got a key to your place.” His egotistical attitude, and flippant response has me beyond irritated. What gives him the right to come into my home uninvited and shuffle through my belongings? He’s just as whacko as he was back then. Thank gawd I had the good sense to let him go when I did. Granted, he was the one who broke up with me, but even still, I never stooped down to his level or begged him to come back. He’s a bit unhinged right now, and the blank look in his eyes tells me no one’s home and his anger is in control of his actions.
“I never gave you a key,” I retort.
Hell, the only reason he had the things in my house that he did was because sometimes, after we were done having sex, he’d go out to the living room and play his game. The clothes and whatnot were ones he left on my floor so they got washed and hung up, because I couldn’t deal with shit tossed everywhere.
“Nope, so I had one made one day from the spares I found in your well-organized junk drawer. Since you had them numbered, I didn’t dare take one of them,” he states, laughing at me. “You should see the look on your face right now. I bet you feel stupid as hell, don’t you?”
I might, but I’m sure not going to confirm that, at least not to him. Instead, I just remain stubbornly silent. My own OCD tendencies about labeling everything is why he was able to gain access to my things and get a spare key made for himself. How many times since we broke up, so long ago, has he been inside, and we didn’t know? Instead of answering him, I decide to ask him a few questions of my own.
“We’ve been over for a long time now, Jeremy, so why hide stuff in my house?”
“Because no one would ever expect you, or your goody-goody best friend, to be involved in anything that was illegal or nefarious,” he says, triumphantly shrugging his shoulders as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “I’ve used your place to stash stuff ever since we split up. The first time, it was pure luck. The cops had a description of me, and I knew they’d want to search here, so I remembered I had your key on my chain and lo and behold, neither you nor Tressa were home that day!”
So, we became his stash house? That makes me feel dirty and like an unwitting accomplice.
I want to vomit at how proud of himself he sounds, but I swallow the bile down and ask, “What kind of things have we unknowingly held for you?”
At that, he bursts into laughter, then replies, “You name it, I’ve likely hid it somewhere in your house at one time or another. Everything from jewelry, to guns, to drugs. Kinda makes me hard thinking that you and Tressa could’ve gone to prison if you’d have been caught with most of it.”
“God, you’re an asshole,” I mutter. Now I hope that Stealth and his brothers catch Jeremy; he deserves to be eviscerated for putting two innocent women in danger the way he did.
“Never claimed differently, dear,” he retorts. “So, are you going to tell me where they are?”
“Depends on what you’re looking for,” I sass, which earns me a fist to my cheek.
“I don’t remember you being such a smart ass before,” he says, grinning at me as I glare at him. “But, to answer your question, I’m looking for some gems. They’re not exactly small, but I tossed them into a container that had flowers in it or some shit floating in it. I’m also missing a flash drive.”
I think of the gemstones I bagged the other day, and realize I had stolen goods under my very nose… again . “I’m surprised you didn’t find them then, because all the glass vases have been packed, which means the contents were also packed up in the boxes,” I reply. “As far as a flash drive goes, you’d need to be a bit more specific because Tressa uses them as well, so if I found one around the house, I either tossed it into the container she had on her desk that’s full of them, or I flung them inside of my purse. Can’t really say for sure, though.”
“You’re just deliberately making things harder for yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, hitting me again. I can taste blood from where I bit the inside of my mouth; that metallic, coppery, icky feeling now has me wanting to throw up all over Jeremy.
“No, actually, I’m not,” I reply. He may not think I’m being truthful, but I typically don’t lie. It’s not worth it to me to have to remember what lie I told and to whom so I can cover my tracks. It gets confusing to keep the fibs straight. I just don’t feel as though Jeremy is being one-hundred percent truthful; he claimed if I got him what he was looking for, he would let me go, only the way he’s acting, I think my time is measured. He’s not going to let me walk free and have a witness on the outside that could put him away behind bars. The gun he keeps waving around doesn’t help my sense of unease, either.
“Please, realize I’ve been gone too long and come looking for me,” I chant over and over as I continue to work on loosening the rope’s bindings.
“Fine, then we’re going to your place to get the stones,” he decrees, snatching me up and practically dragging me toward the door. My feet hardly touch the floor which makes it ten times harder to keep up with his long strides.
“There’s probably going to be people there,” I warn. “You figured out we’re moving, which is probably why you’ve ramped up your efforts to find your stuff that’s actually not yours, is it?”
“Guess they’ll let me in and won’t mess with me when I show them this,” he states, waving his gun around yet again. I’d wish him luck, but I don’t want him to have that on his side. My only saving grace is that he’s not aware of the existence of shifters. They have the upper hand over him because projectiles have nothing on sharp teeth that could shred a human’s skin in zero point three seconds, and the speed of four paws that makes them faster than a speeding bullet.
Instead of answering, I simply shrug. I feel pretty confident that Stealth and his club brothers will be able to handle a bullet if they’re even remotely like the shifter stories I’ve read over the years. It’s another one of those questions I tuck away to ask Tressa once I’m safe at home.
He shoves me into the passenger seat of my own car, but doesn’t buckle me in, which makes me nervous because he’s not a safe driver to begin with, but I keep my mouth shut once again. I silently pray the pedestrians on the streets have the good sense to avoid him.
As he heads toward my apartment, I send up a silent prayer that if Tressa is there, Chaos keeps her protected and no one gets in Jeremy’s way. I’d rather be the one who gets injured if it means my best friend stays safe and sound.