Chapter Fifteen
Chloe awoke slowly and blinked her eyes a few times to clear them.
She had no idea what time it was, but she was still on the couch, with only the glow of the TV illuminating the room.
Erik was asleep next to her, and at some point during the night, they’d turned toward each other, their faces close and their hands clasped together.
Not wanting to disturb him, she didn’t dare move, but she took a moment just to look at him.
His eyes were closed, his lashes fanning his cheek, and his face was relaxed in a way she’d never seen while he was awake.
He was always on alert, ready for a potential threat, but here, with her, he’d let his guard down enough to fall asleep.
Chloe felt the weight of that trust, not as a burden, but as a point of pride.
Carefully, she closed the distance until her lips met his in a soft kiss. Erik jerked slightly in surprise, his eyes flicking open, but he didn’t pull away. With a groan, he reclosed his eyes and kissed her back. Their lips clung, their breaths mingled, and his grip on her hand tightened.
Jayla could have been in the room with them – Chloe hadn’t looked around to see, and if not, she was likely keeping an eye on things via the feed on her laptop.
But as Chloe’s body heated, coming alive with desire, she didn’t care if she was giving the other woman a show.
She wanted this, and she wanted more. She wanted to feel Erik’s hands on her body, wanted to touch him in return. She wanted to taste and be tasted.
Breaking the kiss with a shuddering exhale, she pushed up from the couch and straddled Erik’s lap. His hands gripped her hips, and he looked up at her with wonder. “If this is a dream,” he whispered, “I never want to wake up.”
“Me either.” Her mouth returned to his, kissing him hungrily as his hands roamed first over her sweatshirt before they crept underneath. His erection was a thick bulge in his pants that she eagerly ground herself against.
His calloused hands stroked up the smooth skin of her back, hesitating when they reached her shoulder blades. He nipped her bottom lip gently with his teeth and, against her mouth, said with a smile in his voice, “You’re not wearing a bra.”
Chloe’s smile was wide and a little bit wicked. “No, I’m not.”
Leaning back, she grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt and yanked it over her head.
Erik sucked in a sharp breath as he drank in the sight of her.
“You are perfect,” he breathed, and those hands that were so confident and steady with a paint brush, trembled slightly as he reached for her breasts.
He hesitated just shy of touching them, and Chloe leaned into his palms, bracing her hands on his strong shoulders. “Touch me, Erik.”
His expression was one of pure awe as his hands gently squeezed and his thumbs stroked over the stiffened peaks of her nipples.
Part of her wanted to watch his face, but another, more demanding part, had her closing her eyes as she continued to rub against the ridge of his erection.
Her head kicked back, and a quiet gasp left her lips.
It felt so good, but she knew it would feel even better without the barrier of clothes between them.
Erik lifted one of her breasts slightly, his hot mouth replacing his thumb as he sucked her nipple, and Chloe cried out softly as he stroked it with his tongue. Her hands gripped his head, smoothing over his closely cropped hair.
It was the worst time for Erik’s phone to ring. His mouth left her breast with an angry snarl, and her body rose with his as he shifted his hips to dig into his pocket for his phone. One glance at the screen, and he closed his eyes with a look of resignation. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
Chloe tried not to show how disappointed she was as she slid off his lap back onto the couch cushion and self-consciously grabbed for her sweatshirt.
It was one thing to ignore the cameras in the room when she was in the heat of the moment; another thing entirely to just be sitting there, waiting with her boobs out.
Erik’s voice was a bit growly as he answered the call. “Yeah?”
He listened for a moment before his eyes flicked to hers and his jaw clamped tightly shut. Chloe’s passion from a moment ago dried up as dread pitted her stomach. This was about her. Whatever was being said on the other end of that call was about her, and it was nothing good.
The one-sided conversation continued, and Erik’s expression turned progressively darker before he finally said, “Okay. Keep me posted.”
He disconnected the call, still holding Chloe’s gaze. “Daniel Drayton was killed last night.”
Chloe blinked, her mind failing to comprehend the words. That couldn’t be right.
She shook her head in denial as her eyes welled with tears. “No.” Danny couldn’t be dead. This had to be a mistake. She’d just seen him…
But when she searched Erik’s face for the truth, his expression, a mix of anger and sympathy, drove the point home.
The tears spilled over as her face crumpled. Her shoulders shook, and a choked sob left her as she buried her face in her hands. She was still shaking her head no. The words, “He can’t be dead,” came out on a keening cry. Danny was her friend…
Erik pulled her into his arms, and she grabbed onto him, clinging to the strength of him as she broke.
She sobbed, her tears dampening his T-shirt, and every breath that left her came out as a ragged cry.
She felt like she couldn’t move, and at the same time, like she had to move, had to do something.
Pulling back, she swiped at her eyes and then gratefully accepted the tissue Erik handed her. “What happened?” she managed to choke out.
“Police responded to a neighbor’s 911 call of shots fired. When they arrived at the scene, they found Drayton dead, his home ransacked in a way that suggested a home invasion and robbery.”
Chloe gripped the damp ball of tissue in her hand. The way Erik said that last part was as if he doubted that was actually the case. “You don’t think so?”
Erik’s jaw clenched as he looked at her. It was clear he didn’t want to tell her. “Please.” She grabbed his hand. “Tell me.”
“Drayton was severely beaten before he was shot. Whoever did this was angry, and Savoy’s time on the force means he would know exactly how to stage things to look like a robbery.”
Chloe’s breathing hitched as hot tears flooded her eyes again, and she nodded.
“There were security cameras outside, monitoring the property. The police may be able to ID a suspect from it.”
She had to clear her throat before she could say, “But you don’t think that’s likely.” She could hear the skepticism in his voice.
“Those cameras were installed recently, because of what happened with Drayton’s car.
I’m now also doubting it was a coincidence that Drayton’s brakes were tampered with around the same time Savoy came to town.
Not after what you told us about him. Which leads me to believe you’re not the only one Savoy has been watching. ”
Chloe felt like she was going to be sick, but Erik wasn’t done.
“I think Savoy saw Drayton as a romantic rival who was in his way, so he eliminated him.”
Like Tyler…
Gagging, Chloe lurched up from the couch and ran to the bathroom.
Over the toilet, she retched painfully, her entire body trembling as tears stung her eyes and her throat burned.
Erik, behind her, rubbed her back and held her hair even though there was nothing more than bile in her stomach to come up.
When she finally flushed and sat back, he handed her a washcloth and, since she was still shaking, wrapped her in one of her large, fluffy bath towels. Chloe hugged it around herself gratefully, but it did little to stop her shivers. She felt cold to the bone.
Guilt was a hard knot in her chest that made it hard to breathe, hard to swallow. She’d had no romantic interest in Danny, but the old her, the Chloe that Jackson knew, she would have dated him. He’d been just her type. And he’d been murdered for it…
A strangled sound emerged from her throat, and Erik wrapped his arms around her. “We’ll get him, Chloe.”
She nodded half-heartedly. She had every confidence he would, but it wouldn’t bring Danny back, or give the dancer, Thad, who was in the ICU, and might be facing permanent brain damage – if he even survived – this time back.
A wave of exhaustion hit her so hard, she grew lightheaded. “I think I need to lie down.”
With a nod, Erik scooped her up off the floor and carried her into her bedroom. As he lay her down, he asked, “Do you want me to stay with you?”
Part of her wanted to tell him that he should get as far away from her as possible for his own safety, but she didn’t want to be alone right now. “Yes.”
He crawled into bed behind her, his warm body spooning her as his strong arms wrapped around her. Brushing her hair back from her face, he kissed her temple. “I’ve got you, Chloe. I’ll keep you safe.”
Within a few minutes, her trembling subsided, and a few minutes after that, despite the chaos of thoughts and worries tumbling through her head, Chloe somehow fell asleep.
Erik stayed with Chloe, holding her while she slept. It was not a peaceful rest, which wasn’t surprising after all that had happened. Several times, she’d whimpered or thrashed, like she was in the grips of a nightmare, but she’d always settle when he whispered, “I’ve got you, Chloe. You’re safe.”
He’d used the time to update Jayla on what was happening via text and go over the crime scene photos Lark had sent him.
They weren’t pretty. Drayton’s badly beaten body was lying on his blood-spattered kitchen floor.
He was only wearing a pair of thin, pale blue pajama bottoms, suggesting he’d either been pulled from his bed or had possibly come out to investigate a noise.
Erik was willing to bet that any blood found at the scene would be Drayton’s.
The man kept himself physically fit, but purely for appearances.
He was no fighter, and Savoy likely wore gloves, both to avoid leaving fingerprints as well as to protect his knuckles.
Erik hadn’t known Drayton much beyond the background they’d pulled on him for this mission. He was a talented tenor with stage presence who was well-loved both inside the musical community and out. Moreover, he’d been a good friend to Chloe. He hadn’t deserved this.
It was clear they needed to flip the script.
It was time for Jackson Savoy to become the hunted.
The problem was finding him. Lark, who had called to tell him about Drayton’s death since she had access to the 911 database, had been continuously running facial recognition software, searching for Savoy without a hit.
That software was limited as to what sources it could pull from.
Police-operated CCTV, traffic cameras, and a few privately-owned surveillance networks, all of which Savoy could easily avoid.
They didn’t know where he was staying, what he was driving, or how he was moving around the city.
They also had no idea if or how he might have disguised himself to avoid detection. A needle in a haystack.
Erik wanted to hunt, the primal urge to track down his prey driving him, but he also didn’t want to leave Chloe alone, and the urge to protect her was even stronger.
Especially when he had no clear trail to follow.
Savoy was a ghost. Erik could call in some of the other Beasts, but this wasn’t a sanctioned op, and they had official duties and responsibilities.
Not that that would stop them if he called for an assist. His family had a habit of going off-book when it suited them.
But again, without a starting point, they’d only be wasting time hunting blind.
To catch Savoy, Erik needed to think like Savoy. What would he do next? He’d eliminated a rival, so now he’d…
The funeral. Drayton would have a funeral, and Savoy would likely be there, watching. Even if he didn’t intend to grab Chloe there, he’d want to see her, see the damage he inflicted.
A grim smile touched his lips. Erik would be sure to be there, too.