Chapter Eighteen
Erik had followed Chloe and Jayla back to Chloe’s apartment building, but he didn’t go inside.
As soon as they were secure and Jayla gave him the all clear, he drove back to the cemetery.
Jackson Savoy had eluded him again. Had tried to traumatize Chloe with his little head games again, and Erik was so pissed off he wanted to break things – namely, Jackson Savoy’s skull.
But he couldn’t do that until he found him.
Savoy would come for the camera, and Erik would be waiting.
Not wanting to scare the visitors by marching through the cemetery armed for war, he grabbed his duffel out of the back of his vehicle.
He’d prep once he was back in that wooded area.
The trees, paired with the abundance of ground vegetation, would provide concealment.
He was already wearing black, but he’d paint his face in camouflage as well, especially if this stakeout continued into the night hours.
Finding an ideal location that would afford him a view of the tree with the planted camera, as well as the approach, he hunkered down out of view and pulled his rifle case out of his bag.
Assembling the rifle with practiced hands, he mounted a high-powered scope with thermal optics and checked the zero.
With a few deep breaths, he pushed his anger aside and found his center. He would be a patient hunter, and he would be rewarded.
For hours, Erik watched and waited. But for the occasional update from Jayla in his ear that all was well, bird activity in the branches above, and a few squirrels chasing each other through the trees, it was quiet.
As darkness descended, a sense of anticipation filled him.
The cemetery was closed. The moon was barely a sliver.
Perfect concealment. This was when Savoy would come to retrieve his camera, and Erik would finally have him in his sights.
Patience, he reminded himself. Breathe.
Another hour… Two… His focus never wavered. Three hours… Four…
The shades of dawn were just beginning to lighten the horizon when Erik finally took a moment to stretch the stiffness from his body.
He’d give it a few more hours, but he was beginning to wonder if he’d pegged Savoy wrong.
That was an expensive piece of tech sitting up in that tree; he thought for sure the man would come to retrieve it.
Did he know or suspect they were onto him?
Or did he consider the camera expendable?
The latter had Erik questioning how Savoy was even paying for all this.
Especially since Black Bay was monitoring his accounts, and Savoy hadn’t accessed them.
Erik had seen the financials, and they lined up with a cop’s salary.
He was not a wealthy man, nor did he come from a wealthy family.
They were solidly middle-class. He had bills, a car payment, and a normal amount of credit card debt.
They’d dug years back, and there’d been no suspicious deposits, yet he’d purchased Chloe an expensive necklace, travelled down here under the radar, and had been able to acquire pricy, high-end tech.
Savoy’s darker nature may have come to light after Chloe had left him, leading to his suspension from the force, but he might have been dirty all along and just never been caught. Had he taken bribes? Pilfered crime scenes for cash or items he could sell?
Chloe had mentioned that she’d found the necklace in his belongings, and it should have still been in evidence, tied to Tyler Sinclair’s murder.
Had Savoy been regularly taking things from the evidence lock-up?
Treating it like his own personal one-stop shop?
If that was how he’d gotten the camera, he probably would see it as disposable.
Frustration gnawed at Erik. His thoughts were irrelevant. None of that mattered. Regardless of how he was doing it, Savoy was still out there. He still had the upper hand, and Chloe was still in danger. They needed to regroup.
Erik jogged up the stairs to Chloe’s apartment, and when he reached the door, he heard muffled music.
Was that Foo Fighters? When the door opened, the sound hit him full-on, as well as the lemony bleach scent of cleaner.
Jayla, who’d opened the way for him, shot him a look before jerking her head toward the kitchen.
Chloe was kneeling on the countertop that was cluttered with dishes and food items she’d pulled out of the cupboards. Her hair was in a messy sort of knot, and she was wearing yellow rubber gloves, a sponge in hand as she belted out the lyrics to “Best of You” and scrubbed the shelving.
“She’s been at it since dawn,” Jayla confided. “She’s already gone through her closets, packed up things she wants to donate, and steam cleaned the carpets. I thought she was going to bite my head off when I told her she couldn’t wash the windows because she’d make herself a target.”
Chloe stopped singing long enough to bark, “Take your boots off!” before she picked up the lyrics once more.
Bending at the waist, Erik did as he was told and set the boots neatly on the mat by the door, next to a pair of Chloe’s shoes. “Is she okay?”
“She says she is. If I had to guess, this is her way of dealing with the stress.”
Erik nodded and looked around, not sure if he dared to sit anywhere. He was dirty from lying on the ground all night, his clothes were still slightly damp from the dew that had accumulated on him, and though he’d used a wipe to clean off the face paint, he was sure he probably missed some spots.
“Why don’t you head up to my place?” Jayla suggested. “You can grab some chow, shower, and get some rack.”
“I’ll take you up on the food and shower, but I’ll sleep later. We need to discuss what happens next.”
Taking the keys Jayla offered, Erik didn’t bother to put his boots back on since he was only going one flight up.
Letting himself into Jayla’s apartment, the floor plan identical to Chloe’s, he made quick work of eating and cleaning up, updated the general, before heading back downstairs.
He was tired, even after the high-energy food he had consumed, his body subtly letting him know that he’d need to sleep soon. But first, they needed a plan.
Chloe was still singing, though she’d moved on from Foo Fighters to a band he didn’t recognize, but her feet were on the floor again. She’d finished with the cupboards, everything placed back inside, and she was now scrubbing the countertops.
Erik waited for the song to end before he announced, “We need to talk.”
Her arm stilled, her head stayed bowed over her work as her lips pinched, but she nodded and used a voice command to turn the music off.
He waited until she’d put away her cleaning supplies and they were all seated in the living room before he said, “Yesterday didn’t go as planned. But, if you agree, Chloe, I still think luring Savoy out is our best move.”
Chloe nodded thoughtfully. “We could set up a performance at the opera house. I’ll call Lattie. He’ll be able to arrange it. Maybe a tribute concert to honor Danny with the proceeds going to his family.”
Jayla sat forward in her seat, bracing her forearms on her knees. “That could work, but Savoy seems more focused on your love life. We need to give him a new rival. That’s what’s going to draw him out.”
Erik wasn’t sure he liked that idea, for a couple of different reasons. “That’ll put someone else in harm’s way.”
“Not if it’s you,” Jayla countered with a smirk.
“We could go out for that coffee,” Chloe said. “Maybe take a walk afterward, so he sees us together.”
“It won’t work.” Erik shook his head. “Savoy would never believe you were dating someone as ugly as me.”
Before he knew what she was about, Chloe had risen from the couch and sat down across his thighs. He leaned back, giving her some room as her hand cupped his scarred cheek. “You are not ugly, and if I happen to kiss you on that walk, he’ll get the message clear enough.”
Her lips met his, as if to drive the point home, and Erik heard Jayla clear her throat, but neither he nor Chloe was in any hurry to break apart. Not even when Jayla added in clear discomfort, “Um… Yeah, I’m just going to… Er… Yup, I’m going to go.”
When he heard the door close behind his partner, and they were alone, Chloe finally broke the kiss, but only so she could tug at the T-shirt tucked into his pants. They were both breathing heavily as she yanked it up his torso, and Erik raised his arms so she could finish the job.
Her eyes drifted to his chest, his abs, and lingered with appreciation. But for a few small spots on his shoulder where Lark’s venom had dripped down, his body was unscarred. Unlike his face.
Her fingers moved over his pecs, making him want to groan, and her voice was filled with admiration when she whispered, “You are beautiful.”
“Maybe if I put a bag over my head.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but judging by the way Chloe’s head snapped up and the deep scowl she shot him, she didn’t appreciate his humor. “Don’t do that,” she told him. “Don’t even joke like that.”
Taking his face between her hands, she held him in place so she could go nose to nose with him. “You are not ugly.”
Erik would never believe that about himself. But he was beginning to believe it was a truth for her, and hers was the only opinion that mattered to him. “You truly think that.”
“I do.”
It was a revelation, and something inside of him, something he hadn’t even known was there, suddenly crumbled. Grabbing her in his arms, perhaps too tightly, though she didn’t complain, Erik kissed her hungrily, and Chloe responded in kind.
Her hands stroked over his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, before they snaked up around to the back of his neck.
Never breaking the kiss, Erik stood with her in his arms, easily supporting her weight.
Walking into the bedroom, he kicked the door shut behind him and strode to the bed.
Bending to keep the connection, he set her down on the mattress.
Only then did he pull away enough to ask, “Do you want me to stop?”
His need was evident in his gruff voice, even if she somehow missed the bulge tenting his pants, but never would he take what wasn’t freely offered.
Chloe’s eyes were heavy-lidded, her cheeks flushed with passion, her mouth slightly open as she breathed, and her lips damp from his kisses.
It was an erotic sight, but one he would have walked away from had she asked.
Instead, she gripped the waistband of his pants, her voice breathy as she told him, “I want you, Erik.”
The words shot straight to his groin. With an expelled breath of relief, he leaned in to kiss her again, only to have her hand on his chest stop him.
Retreating a step, he waited for her to say she had changed her mind, but she shot him a shy smile and pulled her shirt over her head.
She was wearing a bra today. A lacy cream-colored number that pushed up the beautiful globes of her breasts.
Her arms bent behind her back, the fabric giving way, and she slid the straps down, baring herself to his hungry eyes.
Perfection. Erik dropped to his knees at her feet. His hands skimmed up the outside of her thighs and then cupped her hips, dragging her a touch closer before dipping his head to take a nipple into his mouth.
Chloe let out a little gasp, her hands stroking his hair as she held his head to her.
Erik took his time, lavishing his attention first on one breast before moving on to the other.
He savored every second and marveled at every passion-laced sound she made.
Her lips fell to the top of his head, kissing him there, as her hands moved to knead his shoulders, then his back, her fingers splaying across the muscles that fanned out from his spine.
Erik’s fingers skimmed up from her hips and found the silky-smooth expanse of skin above her leggings. His hands cupped her ribcage, then moved higher to trace the underside of her breasts.
“Erik,” Chloe breathed as she began to squirm, shifting her weight on the mattress.
Releasing her nipple, he looked up at her. She leaned back on her elbows, and her fingertips skated over the top of her pants. “Take these off me.”
Rising, he carefully took hold of the waistband, the stretchy material moving easily as she lifted her hips to assist him.
Erik got them as far as her knees before he stalled out, his attention snagged by the erotic dream laid out before him.
Her eyes were hot with need, her teeth denting that plump lower lip.
Her upper body was still braced on her elbows, her breasts spread, and her nipples were stiff little peaks.
He drank the sight in, his eyes skating lower over the perfect skin of her belly to the lacy cream-colored bikinis.
His breathing turned ragged as he licked his lips.
He’d like to draw her, just like this, if she’d let him.
“Do you like what you see?” She traced a finger over the waistband of that scrap of fabric that still concealed her.
Erik swallowed hard and nodded, unable to look away.
“Do you want to see more?”
Hell, yeah, he did. But he wasn’t sure if he could take it. His control wasn’t slipping by inches; it felt like it was slipping by miles. He was afraid that if he saw her bare, he’d jump on her like some feral beast.
“Give me your hand.”
His head snapped up, and he saw that she’d extended her hand to him.
Taking it, he let her guide him. She pressed his hand over her navel, then slid it lower until it was underneath that soft barrier.
His heart beat like a drum, his breathing was loud and harsh, and his knees were locked so tightly his legs began to shake.
She guided his hand lower still until he felt the sweet, silky heat of her arousal, and a choked sound left him as Chloe moaned.
Her hips moved under their joined hands, and Erik squeezed his eyes shut.
It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, but it was also pure torture, and if he didn’t look away, he would embarrass himself.