Chapter 51 Tom
TOM
Iwant to smash something with my bare hands as I listen to Portia’s confession from behind the glass. The extent of her cruelty is disturbing but not at all surprising as everything enfolds.
Ozzy had left the gala and gone to check out a storage unit containing the Ford Taurus Hazel had been driving when she crashed in Vermont.
According to what Royce could find, Portia had bought the car outright from the junkyard after the crash and had it fixed up.
It wasn’t registered to her but it was registered to the company Dahlia said reached out to her about doing the illustrations on her covers.
A dark sedan.
Similar to what was captured by the neighbor’s security camera and described by Kat more than a week ago.
Ozzy also relayed that there was white paint transfer on the car that would be consistent with striking Kat’s vehicle.
Jealousy.
Disgust.
And a fair amount of delusion played a role in this tragic story.
Portia continued grinning as she laid everything out for Kat to see. To admire.
Because at the end, that’s what this was. A chance for Kat to acknowledge how clever Portia had been—the intricate plot she’d woven and all the players involved.
But it wasn’t some masterpiece.
It was simply a long list of betrayals.
Hazel.
Amelia.
Kat.
And undoubtedly so many others that had the poor misfortune of ever running into Portia Drake either in person or online.
Kat’s head is held high as she leaves Portia sitting in the interrogation room, her arms wrapping around me the second the door closes behind her.
“Can we leave now?” she whispers, tears dampening my shirt as I stroke her hair.
“Yeah, baby, we’re all done here.”
Covering her with my jacket, we walk back through the building, exiting out a side door and into the cool night air. She’s silent as I tuck her into the passenger seat and fire off a text to Royce as I make my way around the hood.
TOM: Make sure everyone knows this case is done. Ensure all the pieces are wrapped up and then bury it. Portia wants this haunting Kat forever and that’s not fucking happening
ROYCE: I’m already on it
There’s relief in his words but not nearly as much as I hoped.
I’ve seen my fair share of bad things in my lifetime, been in bad situations, lost friends and teammates along the way, but this feels worse.
It was senseless, Portia’s actions like tossing a rock in a pond, the ripples cascading out along the surface, the reach so much farther than anyone can guess.
Because it wasn’t just animosity between her and Hazel or her and Kat.
She took her hatred and disdain and smeared it across the Internet in a time where that kind of campaign never dies.
I’d wager most of the people in the comments simply jumped on a bandwagon for the sake of being included in something.
It’s an affliction and one I fear will never die.
It’s sad but that sadness quickly turns to anger when I think about Portia’s parting words.
Her comment to Kat about putting her in the acknowledgments had been just another nail in the coffin. A woman who had lived in the shadow of her sister thought her legacy would live on forever with no regard for the destruction that happened along the way.
“I can’t believe I missed it,” Kat says quietly, her face turning to the side to look at me.
“Missed what?”
“That Hazel was actually Portia. It seems so obvious now.” It’s a forlorn admission. “I just thought she was grieving, that the change I saw was because she’d lost her sister.”
“There’s no way you could have known. She showed you what she wanted you to see and nothing more. Even her aunt didn’t realize it until tonight.”
“Did she say that?” Kat asks surprised.
“No, but I saw the moment it clicked. She confronted Portia at the bar before heading to the bathroom. Oh, and the hospital said she’ll make a full recovery once everything is flushed from her system.”
“That’s good.” She nods, her fingertips tracing over the silky red fabric of her dress. “It’s a beautiful dress but I feel like I didn’t get to enjoy it.”
“I promise I’ll enjoy taking it off you.”
Kat’s lips curve up but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I do like that part but,”—she trails off, talking to her lap instead of me—“I guess I just wanted to be on your arm tonight. I wanted to have this moment with you. I get how selfish that sounds but—”
“It’s not selfish. I feel it too, but you know what?” I ask, coming to a stop at the red light. “We made it and it’s time we let ourselves enjoy it.”
She’s halfway over the console, her hand cupping my face and her lips pressed to mine in an instant, and I pray I can get a few more seconds of this before the light changes.
“I love you,” she whispers, pulling back to look me in the eyes. Her gaze is searching and I let her look her fill.
Because I have nothing to hide—not from her.
“I love you too, Kitten, more than I ever thought possible.”
More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.
My apartment is quiet when we arrive, the kitchen only illuminated by the single bulb fixture hanging over the sink. It’s modern and clean, the only thing out of place a note left on the counter from Royce saying he’ll catch up with us in the morning.
And it’s just as well.
We all need the rest, and I need to show Kat how much her words mean to me.
Taking her hand, I lead her back toward my bedroom on the other side of the apartment, thankful we’re not sharing a wall with my nephew. In all the time he lived with me, I can’t remember ever bringing a woman into our space.
There’d never been a need.
But there is now.
The room is dark, but Kat swats my hand away when I try to turn on the light. Instead she closes the door, backing me against it.
And I let her.
The jacket of my tux slides off her shoulders to reveal her bare shoulders and her full breasts outlined by the dress.
“Kat.”
“Shh…”
I watch in the dim light from the window as Kat’s hands fall to my belt as she lowers to her knees, her hand stroking my dick as she stares up at me.
It’s unexpected.
And really fucking hot.
I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do this. I had planned to massage her from head to toe, but then she sucks the head of my dick into her mouth and all rational thought flies right out the window.
Hollowing out her cheeks, she has me biting out a curse, her lips sliding down my length as her tongue torments me in the best way.
There’s nothing hesitant in her movements as one hand grips the base of my dick and the other cups my balls, squeezing gently as she works me in the most exquisite way.
It’s maddening.
My orgasm builds faster than I’m ready for as she loses herself in pleasuring me. I want to pull her off, yank that dress over her head, and make her come with her legs spread wide and her pussy glistening just for me.
I want to fuck her slow and hard, make love to her without the guilt of what it could mean because she loves me and there’s no better feeling than that.
But she’s too good, her mouth sucking hard as I come apart with her name on my lips and my release spilling down her throat.
It’s enough to make a man declare his love for a woman, but lucky for me, I’m already there.
And now, it’s my turn.