Five
Hawkes
A fter the jet landed, I went straight to Paisley’s apartment building, teeming with anticipation.
Telling myself I needed to make sure she was following our agreement, I stood on the sidewalk, eyes pinned to the climbing building. It was a skyscraper, luxurious, with a lobby. Not that I couldn’t get my way in.
I sauntered into the building. It was late at night by then, and the prickle at the back of my neck told me Paisley wouldn’t be alone. But I wasn’t willing to listen. Morbid curiosity prompted me forward, a need to find out what her prick of a boyfriend looked like in person. I needed to lay eyes on him. Maybe I could let Paisley go after all. Maybe I could force the truth out of Travis myself.
I tipped the man in the lobby, adding a charming smile to the five hundred dollar bills I pressed into his palm. He was too stunned to stop me as I advanced to the elevator after swiping a guest pass from his desk.
The money would keep him quiet.
As I waited for the doors to open, I checked the doorbells. Deville and McCormack - floor fifty-one, apartment six.
The lift opened and a gaunt, tired looking man exited. He didn’t acknowledge me or the doorman on his way out, furiously typing away on his phone. I heard him chuckle at something on the screen. He looked like a typical frat boy - six five, nine to five, daddy’s trust fund to boot.
Smirking, I rode the elevator up to the fifty-first floor.
Locating the apartment was easy enough, and I knocked on the door of apartment six, bracing myself for impact. What would Travis look like? Was he a coward, as I’d assumed? Would I be able to read him from one look, or would it take a few to peel back his layers?
Paisley answered the door.
She looked fearful, and the safety chain was on.
“Oh,” she whispered. “It’s just you.”
My heart fell as the door slammed. I heard rummaging as she pulled the chain back. She still trusted me enough.
Paisley opened the door again and invited me in.
Nothing in her tidy, modern apartment surprised me, except for the blood stain on the wallpaper in the foyer. Sharply, I turned to look at her, locking up again. She was wearing a pair of soft-looking grey yoga pants, folded over her waist and revealing the smooth curve of her hips.
I inspected Paisley closely. "Where's the boyfriend?"
"Just missed him," she muttered, picking up a bag of frozen peas from the coffee table. "I'm surprised you didn't run into him."
I thought of the frat boy in the lobby. Travis. What a waste. This woman was too good for him, and I was forcing her to spend insufferable days in his company, at what cost? We had come no closer to the truth.
"Your head is bleeding," I noted coolly.
"I know. Someone came by the apartment today," Paisley bit out, motioning for me to sit on the couch. She turned off the TV and turned on some mood lighting, softening the light in the room.
"Someone you know?" I demanded as I sat down and she made us some tea.
"I don't think so," she said softly. I could tell she wasn't quite herself, having to steady herself several times as she carried the tea over. "Someone talking about a debt my boyfriend had..."
"Good old Travis," I hissed. "I knew he'd get in trouble sooner rather than later."
She rolled her eyes and spooned sugar into her tea, an obscene amount. I fought the urge to comment. She was sweet enough without it.
"Have you found out anything?" I insisted.
"No," she replied right away. "He seems to feel me pulling away."
"Then stop."
"Stop?" She laughed. "I can't pretend I like living with him. The lies... I'm not that good of an actress."
"Then try harder," I bit out. "You've been useless so far."
"Then let me go," she begged, hurriedly putting her cup down. "Please. I don't want to stay here, with him. Don't make me."
"What else would you do?"
She shrugged. "Anything. Somewhere far away. I always wanted to go to Europe and see Tuscany."
I shook my head. "Not yet. You need to stay with him and start giving me more."
She looked at me, thinking over her words. "For a man of such power, you seem surprisingly inept at finding Rubi. Don't you have money?"
"Not more than some other people," I bit out. "Don't think I'm not looking as hard as I can."
"Have you considered..." She bit her bottom lip. "That she... Isn't..."
"No," I replied firmly. "And I will not until I have proof. Now tell me about the man that came to the apartment."
She looked at me thoughtfully. "On the short side, but bulky and muscular, with a lot of tattoos."
"Anything identifying?"
"It happened too fast. I didn't get a good look," she said apologetically. "He had metal-capped boots. And a cattle prod."
My heart pounded. "He hit you with a cattle prod?"
"No, he hit my head against the wall, but he had one on him."
"Thank fuck," I muttered. "Those things are messed up."
"I know," she whispered. "I've seen them in action."
I raised an eyebrow. "Where?"
She shrugged, then looked at me again. "Well, I took a trip with Travis once, to Texas. They had them at his uncle's ranch."
Probably a coincidence, though something that would stay with me for a while.
"Did you get a new phone?" I asked next, ignoring my cup of cooling tea as she sipped on hers.
"Obviously, I had to," she muttered. "Since you stole mine."
"You got a text that night," I added. "Unknown number."
"Probably a scam," Paisley shrugged.
"Probably."
"What did it say?" She set her empty cup down.
"Red herring." I shrugged myself, but her crestfallen gaze told me there was more to it. "What does it mean?"
"It's mine and Rubi's code word," she whispered. "I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this sooner. It’s an actual clue! You need to track down that number. Find out everything you can about the sender. I never got a text like that."
"Not even since then?" I asked, heart pounding with hope.
"Not once." She shook her head, managing a weak smile. "It's a clue, isn't it?"
"It's something," I agreed reluctantly while Paisley winced, touching her fingers to the back of her head. "Have you seen a doctor?"
"I don't need one," she mumbled unconvincingly.
"I'll help you. Get your first aid kit."
She looked at me, trying to decide if I was joking, then got up and fetched the box. I cleaned her wound. The procedure was strictly technical. I was grateful Paisley remained silent throughout it, otherwise I would have lost my focus. She was distracting enough, so I forced myself to look at her as a stranger. Someone I didn't share a sordid past with.
I quickly realized her cut would need stitches. I didn't want to take her to the hospital. I gave her a rag to bite down on, and Paisley didn't protest as I got to work. She was wincing a lot, so I started talking to distract her.
"Would you like to hear the story of why I went to prison?" I asked before I could stop myself.
I felt her tense beneath my fingers. She nodded.
I carried on, the words coming more freely now.
"I knew an old man once. He took me in," I started. "Taught me everything I know, like a father. For a long time, he was the only family I had. He wasn't a criminal like the one you met at your doorstep... but he was an outlaw none the less."
I started stitching and Paisley bit into the rag, her soft whimpers muffled by the sound of the fabric.
"When things got bad, I found out he had months to live," I carried on. "Instead of letting him rot in a jail cell, I took the fall for him."
"Is he dead now?" Paisley piped up for the first time since I'd started talking. She pulled the rag away, so invested I could carry on sewing.
"Yes," I said softly. "Long gone. At the time, I didn't know Rubi's mother was pregnant. She told me after I got sentenced."
I finished the stitches, pondering my next words.
"For a long time, I thought it was some deity's messed up way of toying with me. To be locked up for my daughter's whole childhood, with no way of reaching her."
Paisley turned to face me. She looked so pretty in that soft lighting, not that she didn't always. Her hand cupped my face and I looked away.
I thought of Rubi then, and Paisley’s role in her disappearance. I felt like I had to, or I would have lost my mind staring at Paisley. And she was becoming too open with me. She wasn’t scared of me at all.
Something that had to change, if I was going to keep her under my thumb, where I needed her.
I picked myself up. “All done. Do you have any scissors?”
“Yeah, top drawer in the cabinet over there,” she motioned vaguely, checking her reflection in the mirror. “God. Will those stitches come out?”
“In two weeks,” I muttered as I pulled out a pair of sharp scissors. “Sit on the tub.”
She obeyed so easily, it made my cock twitch in my slacks, but I ignored it and made her put her feet in the tub so she was facing the wall.
“I just need to fix something with the stitches,” I muttered as she sat still for me.
Before I could change my mind, I cut.
Long strands of her raven hair quickly littered the tile, but when Paisley realized what I was doing, she shrieked. She pushed me away, and ran to the mirror. Her eyes widened when she saw what I’d done.
“Are you insane?” she squealed. “You’ve cut off half my hair!”
“I’m not done yet,” I muttered.
“What the hell do you mean?” She looked in the mirror and shrieked in anger. “You’re crazy! Who do you think you are?”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “But you weren’t hearing me.”
“Hearing you?” she started to sob as she looked at her hair on the floor. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say anymore. Get out of my apartment!”
I got up calmly and stood in front of her. Much taller, I dwarfed her in size.
“Sit down,” I hissed.
“Excuse me?” she demanded, but I was done arguing with her. I picked her up, and she squealed again as I placed her in the tub. She hugged her knees to her chest.
I got in, shoes and all, scissors in my hand. “I told you I like seeing your neck, didn’t I?”
She gasped as the realization dawned on her. Her body started to shiver, and I smiled to myself, realizing she was finally becoming afraid of me.
“I want to see your neck,” I repeated. “I couldn’t see it with that long hair, which you refused to wear up for me. So the only person you have to blame is yourself.”
I cut her hair into an even bob, the ends barely touching her chin. I could tell she was crying, but I was distracted. Not just by her now-exposed slender, pale neck… But by what I’d done. I’d never done something similar to a woman…
Had I really done it just because of her neck?
Maybe I wanted to mark her.
Maybe I wanted to mold Paisley Deville to be exactly what I wanted.
And she did look so much prettier with her hair short and sleek, crying pretty tears for me as I finished up.
“I’ll give you a second to wash up,” I said gently. “Be careful around the stitches, alright?”
She nodded mutely, and I got out of the bathroom, waiting by the door until I heard water running inside. Feeling guilty as fuck, I made my way to the kitchen and dug through her cupboards. I made her a cup of tea with lots of sugar. I remembered how much sugar she put in her cup when we were at Sarah’s.
Once she came out of the bathroom, Paisley’s face was makeup free, but her hair had been styled. She dried it and it was so cute, sleek and shiny.
“Perfect,” I muttered as I looked at her, and she pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “Still mad at me, sugar?”
“You cut my hair without asking,” Paisley hissed. “I have every reason to…”
“Do what I say?” I asked sweetly, walking closer and brushing the hair behind her ear. “It suits you so much. I love it.”
She stiffened as I allowed my lips to trace her jawline.
She was tempting as ever, and I could barely hold back from biting into her skin… licking the taste of her tears off those full cheeks.
“Hawkes…”
“Shh,” I whispered. “Just let me have this…”
Her phone buzzed, interrupting the moment.
She knit her brows together at the screen. "Travis is coming back. You need to go. He'll kill you if he finds you here."
I got up, ignoring her laughable thoughts. I wouldn't be caught dead dying by frat boy's hand. One day, I'd enjoy ending his life. I blamed him equally, if not more than Paisley.
I didn't bother with much of a goodbye, but Paisley's palm wrapped around my forearm on my way out.
"Thank you for helping me," she whispered.
"I'll come take out the stitches soon," I managed, frozen. "Be careful... and get me more information."
"On Rubi?"
"On your boyfriend, sugar."