17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Dax
Well, that fucking happened.
I had certainly not planned on receiving the most mind-bending blowjob of my life when I knocked on Lucy’s door. I was planning on whipping something up for her to eat, then heading to our separate beds.
She was like a siren, and I was a sailor unable to resist her lure. I didn’t care how much was at stake. How dangerous I was for her, and she was for me. No. I just wanted to take her, every inch of her, and make her mine.
“Dax…” she said as I scooped her up and dropped her into the bed.
Fuck. The sound of my name on her lips made me weak.
“Yes?” I struggled to keep my voice even.
Her face was still flushed, and I couldn’t believe those perfect lips were just wrapped around my cock moments ago. My heart sank when I realized the nervous glint that shot through her eyes.
“I want you to…”
I knew exactly what she was about to say. It was suffocating me on the inside, but I knew better than to give into that impulse.
I couldn’t fuck her, even though I desperately wanted to. It took every ounce of my self-control to refrain from taking her entirely against that wall moments ago.
I wouldn’t cross that line with her though.
Not right now. The tension was so high, and her world had just been turned upside down.
I tried my hardest to keep a distance from her.
To remain professional and be there for her strictly as a protector like I promised.
Everything we had already done was a mistake… but I couldn’t say I regretted it.
“Try to get some rest, Luce,” I told her, bending to gently kiss her forehead before pulling the duvet up around her flawless naked body. Then, despite every instinct running through my body, I walked away. Shutting her door behind me, I went to my own room where I had a long, sleepless night.
I was out of bed before the sun rose. After a cold shower, I made my way downstairs and flipped open my laptop as I sipped a cup of espresso in the kitchen.
Immediately, I navigated to my messaging app.
I’d been talking to Emile last night before I went to check on Lucy.
I’d been planning on coming back to the kitchen, so he must have assumed I left him on read.
I clicked on Emile’s name, and a series of messages flooded the screen.
Emile: We’re running through the street cameras on Haight and the nearby cross-streets to see if we can find the fucker who took the pics. Clay and one of his guys are already in her apartment to keep watch. If anyone tries to break in there for her, they’re in for a surprise.
Emile: This wasn’t exactly subtle, Dax.
I frowned and clicked on the video link below the message.
It popped up with a view from across the street, facing Lucy’s apartment building.
I clicked play and saw the Pagani sitting in the corner of the frame.
The frame is still for a second, then I see footage of myself hauling ass with Lucy behind me in her bright purple pants and my giant hoodie.
My hand was drawn under the flap of my jacket, and I could see the flash of metal from my gun underneath it.
What the fuck else was I supposed to do? I had no idea what I was walking into, and I managed to get Lucy out of there without a scratch. I closed the video tab and went back to the chat.
Emile: Found him.
I clicked on another video link and pressed play.
This time, the camera faced the other side of the street.
It zoomed in on a window above the liquor store a couple of buildings away.
The time stamp was set five minutes before Lucy called me yesterday.
A figure in a dark hoodie loomed out of the half-open window, a camera in-hand.
Fire raged in the pit of my stomach as I paused the video and tried to zoom in further.
The figure’s features were indistinguishable, even through the sharpened footage.
I toggled the video forward and watched the camera flash a couple times before the window closed and the figure disappeared.
I exited the video tab again and clicked on the next one Emile had sent immediately below it.
The footage showed the figure exiting the liquor store with a time stamp a few minutes later.
He stood on the sidewalk and took some photos of Lucy’s apartment from the street.
It was obvious by the walk and stature of the figure that underneath the hood was a man.
My skin went cold. The feed captured him slinking to a small gray sedan where he got in the front seat and hunched down.
I noticed the tail of the Pagani on the other side of the street across the screen.
For a few minutes, nothing happened other than a few passersby walking in and out of the frame.
Then I saw the back of my car exit the frame and a few more seconds passed.
The hooded figure reappeared in the driver’s side window, and it looked like he was holding a phone to his mouth.
The video had no sound, and a few more minutes passed before he set the phone down and drove off in the opposite direction from where I took Lucy last night.
I brought my hand to my temple and gave it a subconscious rub as I sipped down the rest of my espresso. I exited the video back to Emile’s messages.
Emile: Plates on the gray sedan are registered to Theodore “Teddy” Griffin.
He lives in Oakland and has a record ranging from armed robbery to identity theft, but he got out of prison almost five years ago and hasn’t been arrested since.
We tracked his movement back to a crack house on the other side of the bay.
He has no legal employment history on his background check.