Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Kill Bianca Rossi?!” Shawn’s voice screeches through my phone, worsening the ache that began to form behind my eyes the moment I left Nocturno. “Dude, are you nuts? Do you know how well-protected she is?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and push out a steadying breath. “I’m fully aware of the situation, Shawn.”
“Oh, super. You have a death wish and I get to come along for the ride!” His tone is harsh, but I hear the distinct quiver of fear in his words. “And what about the woman you’re stalking? You could get her killed! She’s not a part of this shit. She’s innocent.”
The sound that barrels out of my mouth can only be described as a growl. “I would never let anything happen to Ava. I’ll fucking die first.”
“Oh,” he whispers, “I, uh, didn’t think…didn’t know you were—”
“Well, I fucking am!” I shout. “I’ll protect her.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Frustration prickles in my gut as I stare at my laptop screen.
Despite hours of research, I’ve found next to nothing on Bianca, certainly nothing useful.
It’s not surprising, though. People like us, those who live and work within the seedy underbelly of this city, are ghosts.
We hide in the shadows, imperceivable to those who live in the light.
“Just get me everything you can on Bianca. I want to know where she eats, where she sleeps, everything.” I end the call. The ache in my head deepens to a throbbing pain.
Initially, I hadn’t planned to kill Bianca. I’d only planned to make her life hard enough that she’d leave me alone. It doesn’t seem like I have a choice anymore, not if I want to keep Ava safe. If both Mikhail and Bianca keep coming after me, it’ll only be a matter of time before they find her.
An image flashes in my mind of the face of the woman I couldn’t save.
Mom’s lifeless eyes stare up at me. Looking into the airy blue of her irises was always like looking up at the sky on a sunny day.
Now they’re cloudy and unseeing. Her beautiful raven hair is no longer silky, but matted with blood. Her cheeks are smeared with it.
“Goddammnit!” I slam my palms on my desk hard enough to shake the wood and send pens scattering to the floor. I won’t let it happen again.
Go to her, the beastly thing inside my chest screams. I push myself away from my desk, my body moving of its own accord.
Protect her. I shove my arms into my jacket sleeves with enough force to nearly rip open the seams. Keep her.
My car keys are suddenly in my hand. Make her yours.
My car rumbles to life beneath me. The tires squeal, skidding against the pavement and picking up speed.
* * *
Gravel crunches under my boots as I step toward Ava’s front porch.
Little chunks of rock skitter across the driveway, landing in a patch of dirt and dead grass.
I inhale deeply. The emotions that have a death grip on my heart seem to loosen as the perfume of autumn fills my lungs.
Greedily, I suck in air until the nauseating tang of exhaust fumes and garbage that saturates the city is replaced by the scent of wood and earth.
The porch groans under my weight, its beams crying out as if they’re warning me that they might not hold on for much longer.
As I stare down at the aged wood, my mind wanders.
It conjures images of the home I’ll have built for us away from the stench of the city.
My mouth tips up into a smile as I think about my little bird sipping her morning coffee on a porch that isn’t about to collapse.
The door handle doesn’t budge when I turn it. “Good girl, keeping yourself safe,” I whisper.
I let myself in with the copy I took of her key. When I push open the door, I’m hit with an immediate sense of relief. I inhale deeply, pulling her sweet scent into me. She smells like home. A melodic hum travels through the house, leading me right to her.
I step lightly, avoiding the floorboards that creak as I follow the sound of her close-lipped music to her office.
She sits cross-legged in her desk chair, her fluffy pajama pants bunched up around her knees.
Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, save for a few tendrils that have fallen out.
The strands bounce around her face as her head bobs to the melody she’s making.
She presses her palms to her headphones and belts out a line from whatever terrible pop song is playing in her ears.
The sound isn’t unlike a cat being strangled, but I’m enraptured, anyway.
She’s in another world, her eyes furiously scanning over a stack of papers in front of her.
Where have you traveled to today, little bird?
I ask her silently. In my mind, she whips her chair around, a smile breaking across her face.
She jumps up from her chair and throws her arms around me before launching into a wild story about dragons and faraway battles.
Soon, I remind myself as I drag my body away from her office, she’ll love me soon. My chest pinches with every step I put between us. When did her love start to matter to me so much? When did it change from wanting her to simply want me, to wanting her to love me? Needing her to love me?
“Shit,” I huff under my breath.
As much as I want to, I won’t disturb her when she’s working.
I know how much she loves her job and I’ll never take that away from her.
My feet shuffle reluctantly beneath me, hauling me up the stairs and into her guest bedroom.
I lay down on the small bed, letting my legs dangle over the edge of its tiny frame.
The moon peeks through the window, creating a line of silver light across the floor.
Hidden in the shadows of Ava's house, the tension in my body eases.
My shoulders loosen and my headache drifts away.
My little bird won't be alone tonight. I couldn't leave her alone if I wanted to.
My body wouldn't let me. Even if I tried to claw my way out, I couldn’t.
My fingernails would gouge new grooves in her old windowsills, but my feet would remain rooted on the floor.
But I don’t want to leave her. She's at risk, especially now that I'm planning Bianca's death. There are too many things that could go wrong. I wonder, does she feel my protection when she can’t see me? Does it free her? Does it suffocate her? Imagining her struggling to breathe, my dick strains against the confines of my jeans. She looks so beautiful with my hand around her neck, her cheeks turning rosy and warm. She’ll look even more beautiful when she’s choking on my cock.
The patter of clumsy footsteps floats up from the first floor.
My little bird’s bare feet slap against the wooden floors as she moves.
I could leave the room, following the sound of her footsteps to her, but the temptation to see what she does when she thinks I’m not around is too great.
It claws at me, demanding that I remain in the shadows.
Before her feet hit the stairs, my body is moving.
I dash down the hallway and into her bedroom.
The puffy down comforter sits askew on her bed, half of it dragging on the floor.
The fluffy, purple fabric muffles the sound of my body dropping to the floor.
I shove it aside and roll under her bed.
At least it’s bigger than the tiny thing in the guest room.
Bits of dust flutter up from the floor, swirling around my face.
My nostrils tickle and I shove my palm over my nose and mouth to block a sneeze.
The floor is rough against my cheek and I can feel chunks of lint and sock fuzz sticking to the stubble on my chin.
I rub my fingers over my face, scrubbing them away.
When Ava’s feet appear beside me, my muscles freeze and I force my breathing to slow.
She huffs out a frustrated sound just before her shirt drops to the floor.
Her pants come next, dropping into the bundle of fabric.
The sight of her bare legs makes my mouth water.
The bed creaks above me, the mattress dipping slightly as she climbs onto it.
Her panties flutter toward the floor. I whip my hand out, snatching them before they land on the dusty surface.
For a moment, as I lift her panties to my face, I expect some part of me to feel bad about it, as if there’s a dormant part of my brain that still cares about society’s indoctrinated moral code.
That part of me should cringe at the wrongness of hiding under a woman’s bed with her underwear lodged in my nostrils. And yet, I couldn’t fucking care less.
I suck in her sweet scent, nearly groaning as the delicate zest of her arousal hits my tongue. My jeans become an oppressive binding, crushing my hardening length. I run my palm along it, wishing I had enough space to pull it out.
“What the Hell am I doing?” she groans.
Yes, baby, what are you doing?
The bedsheets rustle and she lets out a pleased hum that makes my dick pulse with need.
“Touch me,” she whispers, “just like that.”
The soft sounds of her pleasure reach my ears and my breathing becomes as heavy as hers. I had wanted to see what she’d do when she thinks I’m not watching. Now, as I’m considering tearing through her old box spring to get to her, I’m wondering if this was a bad idea.
She whines softly, “I need more.”
The bed springs shift and groan just before I hear the drawer in her nightstand squeak open.
Her hand fumbles around in the drawer, making objects clatter together and paper rustle.
My mind scrambles, trying to remember the exact contents of that damned drawer, but I can’t think straight.
I can barely think about anything other than the images being conjured in my head by the sounds she’s making.
Her breathy moans fill the room and I envision her delicate fingers circling her clit. The cry that falls from her lips paints a vivid picture in my mind; her fingers sliding inside of her, her hips bucking as she forces them deeper.
I fist my hands, gripping them until I feel my fingernails digging into my skin.
What are you thinking about, little bird?
The thought pops into my head and spirals into something dark.
The sudden realization that she may not be thinking about me crashes into me like a freight train.
My body tingles as jealousy pumps its poison through my veins.
“Gray,” she purrs. “Fuck, master, right there.”
The organ in my chest expands, pumping so fiercely that I can hear it pounding in my ears. She’s fantasizing about me. My cock aches with desire. Precum leaks from me, making my boxers damp and sticky against my skin.
Ava screams my name as the orgasm tears through her. Her body quivers, sending little quakes of movement through the mattress. Her scream drowns out the sound of my groaning as I nearly come in my pants right along with her.
Something falls to the floor with a wet thwack.
Turning my head, my eyes triple in size at the sight of a purple, silicone dildo laying beside the bed.
The small toy is nowhere near big enough to prepare her for my cock.
I imagine her pained expression when I push into her for the first time and my dick hardens to the point of pain.
I still, listening to the sound of Ava’s breathing.
She snores softly above me, her breaths even and deep.
My hand dives out, wrapping around the dildo and pulling it toward me.
Little specks of dust are adhered to its surface, stuck in her arousal, but I don’t care.
I would eat dirt if it was coated in her release.
A low moan vibrates in my throat as I suck the tip into my mouth.
Her sweetness coats my tongue and my hips jerk, grinding into the box spring.
I clean the silicone toy with my lips and tongue until there’s nothing left of her on it.
“Fucking perfect,” I whisper, my need for her satisfied for now by the flavor that lingers in my mouth.
Something in my chest softens knowing that in her most private moments, she wants me.
My anxious, flighty little bird. She’s so afraid of my affection, but she can’t stop herself from dreaming of it.
A plan begins to solidify in my mind. It’s time for me to step up, to make her mine in earnest. She’ll never be ready if I keep giving her time.
Are you ready for me, my sweet, broken girl?
I’ll banish the thoughts that her monster of a father instilled in her. I’ll destroy the walls she’s built around herself to keep her safe. She doesn’t need them anymore. She doesn’t need a fortress to keep the monsters out. She has one of her own. I’ll be her monster. I’ll keep her safe.