Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DAMON
Leon’s on the phone asking for an update. “I just left and the place is still vacant,” I tell him.
We got tired of laying low recently so we have adjusted our efforts. Now instead of being trapped in the apartment, he has me watching that club night and day. Whoever that King guy is, he’s not dumb. By the time we decided to venture out to get more intel, they’d completely vacated the space. It’s like every lead we had vanished into thin air.
“Fuck, I almost wish they’d make a move.” I could tell that Leon’s pacing from the other side of the phone. “I hate to say it, but maybe we should get out of here. Florida’s a bust but I might have someone in DC worth looking into.”
My stomach plummets five stories. “Calm down, you’re reading too much into this. I’ll keep an eye on everything as much as I can and maybe we call in some help until Jasper’s healed up. I think Jas still has the number for that investigator his parents hired. Maybe he’s available.”
There’s no way I’m leaving. Not unless Blake’s coming with me.
“That bloke? He was a waste of space, mate. Plus he’s proper by the book from what I remember, completely opposite from how we operate.”
“But anything helps, right? I’m not saying we gotta move him into the apartment and become best friends.” Christ, Leon was going to lose his hair from stress if he didn’t calm the hell down.
“I suppose.” He sighs and I hear the slight change in his tone. “I have to track down his details.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it. You just keep doing your thing.” I pull onto Blake’s street and park around the corner. “I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.”
“Where are you?” I’m about to answer but he sighs. “Nevermind, I already know.” He ends the call without saying goodbye.
“I’m genuinely hurt,” I say into the phone before swiping out of the screen. That guy needs a hobby or a girlfriend… or both. He’s become a massive asshole. I click my app that leads to the camera feed I have of Blake’s bedroom. It’s dark and empty. Tilting my head, I double check her location from the GPS tag I put on her old Honda and the other one I slipped into her backpack. Both have her pinned at home. She must be somewhere else in the house. I’m happy to see my efforts while she’s been busy with classes have become useful.
I zip my black sweatshirt and pull the hood up. It’s not raining as hard as it was earlier, but it’s coming down enough that I’m not thrilled to have to walk in it.
Making my way down the dark street, I imagine what Blake’s doing inside. What she’s wearing. For a second, I almost text her and tell her to strip bare and get on her bed, but that would ruin my plan. Instead, I spend the walk imagining her bent over for me. Slapping her round ass until she has a permanent handprint. Until she’s soaking wet, begging to be fucked. I’m so hard that I need to adjust myself.
Her car is in the driveway and the house is dark. It won’t be difficult to find her, though. I start by doing my normal rounds around the property, checking that she’s safe. When I’m satisfied that no one has tried to harm her, I peek into each window, one by one. The thing I love most about these old houses… the ease of opening windows.
Blake’s in the living room, curled on the couch with her feet under her while a fire burns in the fireplace. She’s on the phone, laughing. I curl my fists, wondering who she’s talking to. It’s nice to see her smile though. She’s been down lately, too much work and too little play.
Once I hire that PI, it’s me and you all the time, baby . You won’t remember what it’s like to be alone.
She finishes her conversation and spends a few minutes sipping from a mug and scrolling on her phone. I wonder if she’s reading our messages? My curiosity gets the best of me so I pull out my phone and text her.
Me: It’s the perfect night for a fire.
She adjusts her feet and sits up, looking around the room. Her expression isn’t one of fear, it’s more anticipation.
Blake: Where are you, stalker?
Her and her nicknames. The list keeps growing.
Me: I’m working. Just wanted to check in and see if you’re still wet from earlier.
I watch her shake her head and pull her hair into a messy bun. I hope she keeps it like that, I’d love to give it a hard tug.
Blake: I’m not wet… completely dry all over.
Not for long.
I can’t wait to hear her gasp my name. My real name this time.
She lets the fire burn down to a few embers then heads toward her room. Once I’m certain she’s not coming back, I pull the window open and climb inside. Warmth surrounds me and fuck, it feels good. I’ve been soaked for the better half of the day and the cool air didn’t make it any better.
Shrugging out of my hoodie, I lay it beside the fire to dry, then do my nightly ritual of checking the house. Leon may be focused on the empty club but my focus is right here. If there’s people after us, it’s only a matter of time before they find Blake. I won’t let that happen.
Satisfied that all is well, I linger outside Blake’s door and listen. The only sounds I hear are the occasional ticks of the heating system and steady barrage of rain against the roof. The long day of classes and being stuck in the rain wore my angel out. I almost feel bad disturbing her. But she wanted this when she provoked my jealous nature. She’ll learn that I mean every word that I say. Without making a sound, I sneak into her bedroom.
I’ll never get over how perfect Blake looks asleep. She’s on her back, clutching a pillow to her chest, her hair above her head like a halo. Her face is serene, those pert lips slightly parted and releasing slow, steady breaths. One leg is stretched out on top of the blanket and her oversized T-shirt rides up her thighs.
She’s in the perfect position.