Chapter 6 Bates #2
I slide into my new pickup and take off for her office, propping my phone onto my dash so I can steal glimpses of her during the drive.
I have the route memorized from the numerous times I’ve driven straight there after practices just to catch a real-life look at her.
Navigating the snow-covered streets and roads from the recent snowstorm, I make my way toward her office, stealing peeks at her on my phone when I can. She behaves for the rest of my commute, keeping to herself and avoiding the chatterbox who was flirting with her earlier.
Her head remains on a swivel as she waits for my arrival, and I love how on edge this is making her. Each hair standing on end as she anticipates my touch. It’ll only make the real thing that much better.
I find a parking spot on the street across from the office before putting my truck in park and settling comfortably into my seat. It’s not obviously noticeable from the front of her office, but close enough that I still have a good view and a short trek.
I’m going to wait a moment though. I’m not going into a full house with my mask on and certainly not without it, given how she reacted to the real me earlier.
According to the invite email I read on her computer, this event should be ending in about ten minutes, and then she’ll be all alone. I just have to figure out how to get rid of Kerrigan first. I don’t have a plan—I’m winging it—but I’ll find a way.
The front office door swings open, and I watch a few guys step through, rolling their eyes. They must not have found their match tonight from the looks on their faces.
They’d better be laughing at their horrible dates and nothing that has to do with the hard work my girl did to put tonight together.
They load up into one vehicle and disappear before I can wind myself up too much about their possible ungratefulness.
I lean back in my seat and grab my phone from the dash, getting a closer look at Serena, who’s now at her desk in the lobby. She types aggressively before huffing out a breath and grabbing her phone. Dissatisfied, she slaps it back down and types on her keyboard.
A moment later, she checks her phone again before angrily dropping it onto her desk.
Her lips are taut. She’s annoyed, and I’m watching her impatience unfold before me.
If she wants to think she’s the one calling the shots, she’s about to learn she’s wrong. Just because I’m outside doesn’t mean that I’m not in control.
A mask drifts over her face, one of practiced professionalism, as a happy couple exits the conference room and heads toward the front door, passing her desk.
They have a quick conversation before exiting through the front door, leaving only a handful of people remaining inside.
Her smile is one of pride when the door closes behind the couple.
I’m glad she had some success tonight. Now if everyone else would just hurry the hell up so I could have some alone time with her, that’d be great.
Slowly but surely, the remaining attendants leave. Fifteen minutes later, the cleaning crew exits, followed by the security she hired for the event, leaving only Kerrigan and Serena inside.
Checking the cameras constantly, I notice Kerrigan disappear into the restroom. Serena’s in the conference room, gathering the now-cold candles into a tote.
This is my opportunity. I can see the vision in my mind, and I’m moving before I run out of time.
Grabbing my mask, I slip it on and throw my hood up. I kill the engine and step into the cold, rushing toward the building while keeping an eye on their locations through my cameras.
It may only be twenty-one degrees Fahrenheit outside right now, but I’m not freezing. The adrenaline and excitement are warming me to the core.
Regardless, I hustle toward the front door, grabbing it firmly. It’s locked. Shit. But it’s okay; I have another way.
I quickly insert my key copy and let myself in, my eyes glued to Serena’s location. My heart is hammering out of my chest as I walk into the warmth and silently shut the door behind me.
In three long strides, I reach the bathroom. Using one of the lobby chairs, I prop it beneath the door handle, like I’ve practiced before, and lock Kerrigan inside.
A moment later, the handle jiggles, but it doesn’t matter; that chair isn’t moving. Serena can let her out when we’re done. Checking my phone, I see she hasn’t moved from collecting candles.
My stealthiness is undervalued because of the music singing through the speakers. I would find it annoying if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s muting Kerrigan’s voice, now calling out for Serena.
Approaching the open door to the conference room, I stop just outside of the threshold, out of her sight line.
She’s started dancing to the music, her back to the door, and I take full advantage of the noisy surroundings. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I step forward and slip inside of the entrance, enjoying her without a screen between us.
Her hips are swaying back and forth as she sings along to the song while gathering items from the table. I lessen the distance between us to three feet in three seconds and four fast strides.
She has no idea that I’m standing right behind her.
Widening my stance, I take the moment to study her through the mesh of my mask.
God, that dress was made to be worn by her, just like my hands were made to take it off … roughly, desperately, every second without touching her more torturous than the last. But once I finally peel every thread from her body, the real fun will begin.
Her body moves fluidly to the rhythm as she finishes cleaning up the table.
Much like a good hockey player can anticipate a goal coming, I can feel the air thicken as she lifts the clear tote into her arms. Her spine straightens, and I take a step forward, my fingers reaching out toward her.
Not wanting to cause her too much of a mess by spilling the tote’s contents all over the floor, I reach forward with my right hand and wrap my fingers around her waist before she turns, closing the distance between us completely. I pull her body flush against mine with a hum.
A mix of a shriek and a gasp bubbles out of her, and she drops the tote in surprise. It thuds to the table at the same time my left hand wraps around her throat, pinning her in place.
“Little Cupid,” I greet her with a husky whisper, flattening my right hand on her stomach.