Chapter 7
Donatello
After rounding a corner and heading to Emmeline’s house, I froze.
A fucking asshole was stalking her.
Are you kidding me?
The lone figure caught my attention.
Before I knew what I was doing, I took off running. Two seconds later, I had my weapon in my hand as I chased them down the tree-lined street. With a quick glance over his shoulder in my direction, he fled between houses, heading toward another street.
The bastard had been doing the same thing I was doing.
Watching Emmeline and her friends.
I’d followed the girls back to her house, both concerned for her safety and unable to drive aside the intense desire.
I should have followed my instincts from before. The jerk was wily but not very fast. An amateur. Wearing all black, there was no doubt the asshole had been up to ill intentions.
While I wasn’t certain, it would appear he had a weapon in his hand.
The anger continued to sweep through me, leaving blind spots in my eyes.
I’d need to be careful. This was a residential neighborhood, expensive homes covering several blocks.
While the backyards were substantial, they weren’t huge, yet almost every house had a fence or garden, a half dozen places to hide.
That’s why went I shot out onto the next street, it seemed the perpetrator had disappeared. But I knew better.
Given the time of night, most residents were safely tucked away behind closed and locked doors.
Remaining quiet, I remained where I was, listening to the subtle sounds of nature. There was also very little traffic, making the moment that much more serene.
I heard nothing for a full five minutes.
Then footsteps.
After realizing the direction he was headed, I took off running once again.
If he believed he could get away from me, he had another think coming. I worked out almost every day, including jogging a few miles when I had the time. Evidently, the stupid prick actively trying to get away wasn’t into physical exercise.
The moment he knew I was following him, he made the critical mistake of looking over his shoulder.
That was all the time I needed to pitch forward, knocking him to the ground in between two parked cars. There was no time to rethink my instincts or my training. I hauled off and punched him in the face, the brutal sounds of cracking teeth filtering into the serene night.
His cry was ripped with anguish. While he wasn’t actively trying to fight me, he was attempting to protect the weapon in his hand. “Get off. Get off!” His cries were muffled. Another brutal punch made him grunt.
Instead of firing off my weapon and getting my nice new suit bloody, I smashed his hand against the pavement.
He finally let go, the object flying away several inches.
“My… camera…”
The muffled words stopped me cold. A fucking camera? I rose to my feet, snatching the object off the pavement. Sure enough, I held a smashed Nikon in my hand.
A photographer. A fucking photographer. I hadn’t made such an egregious mistake in a long time.
Fuck. Rubbing my jaw, I tried to think about how best to handle this.
So far, the noise hadn’t been enough to draw any attention, at least that I could see.
However, leaving the scene quickly was in my best interest.
Although the asshole had been stalking her, he’d only been taking pictures instead of planning a crime. Unless someone had hired him to keep tabs on her.
It was a heavier piece of equipment with a telephoto lens attached. Fortunately, the sim card seemed to be intact, which I swiped.
Crouching down, I tossed the camera aside and dangled my weapon between my legs. “You want to tell me who the fuck you are?”
“You broke my camera!” He cupped his broken nose, whimpering as he did. “And my nose.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t put a bullet in your brain.
Stalking is illegal in case you didn’t know.
Now, you have one chance to tell me who hired you and trust me, it’s in your best interest.” I didn’t expect the scumbag to answer me right away, which was why I took the time to yank the silencer from my jacket pocket, clipping it onto the barrel while he watched.
At least his eyes opened wide. Just a stupid guy who’d accepted the wrong job.
“I’m just a photographer. You broke my goddamn nose.” He was more worried about his nose than his camera or his life.
“Why were you trying to take pictures of the women inside the house?”
“Just one woman.”
“Name.”
He dared try to scuttle backwards, now half sitting against the bumper of a sports car. I’d certainly hate to damage the pretty red Miata, but would if necessary. The guy obviously was missing a few brain cells. I pressed the end of the silencer against his forehead.
“I won’t ask you again.” My upper lip curled into a snarl.
“Okay. Jesus Christ. Some magazine.”
“Some magazine.”
“Yeah. Southern Comfort or something.”
I hung my head. Maybe after the shitty night I was eager to expend blood. The guy was telling the truth. “What were they looking for?”
“Just everyday pictures. Nothing risqué. I swear to God.”
With my teeth gritted, I heard a noise. We had company, another vehicle pulling along the curb a couple of houses down.
The spark in his eyes meant he heard the sound as well, his body tensing as if someone was coming to his rescue.
Leaning over, I pressed my finger against my lips, smiling as I did.
He shuddered visibly. At least he’d figured out I likely had a screw loose. Less than five minutes later, we were essentially alone again.
“Who is your contact?”
The guy was getting flustered, no doubt from the agony he was suffering. As if I cared. “Some guy. Bill something.”
All I had to do was glare at him and his body jerked as if I’d beaten the crap out of him. When he immediately tried to reach into his pocket, I cocked my head with an eyebrow raised.
“I’ve got a business card. Okay? Okay?”
Exhaling, I nodded.
His hand shook as he fished into the pocket of his jeans, finally managing to pull out a business card. Interesting since they were rarely used any longer.
After taking it from his hand, I glanced at the name, which wasn’t familiar to me in the least. William Dreyfus. The address was out of Savannah and the card appeared legit.
“How much did you get paid?”
“Twenty thousand. Easy gig.” As soon as he laughed, he cupped his nose again.
“Did you get the money?”
“Half. Half when I’m finished.”
The guy wouldn’t be able to provide anything else. “What’s your name?”
When he shrank back as if prepared to hide his identity, all I needed to do was to lift my weapon. That was enough to put the fear of God into him.
“Peter. Peter Kendall.”
“Well, Peter Kendall,” I said as I stood, shoving the card into my pocket. “It’s your lucky day. You passed the test of telling the truth. However, you’re going to consider that you’ve been paid in full and never even consider being on the same street as Emmeline Prince. Do you understand me?”
Why was it the assholes who were caught doing something wrong were always so reluctant to play fair?
“I’ve had a really long day, Peter. And I don’t think you want to be on the receiving end of my bad mood. Now, do you?”
“No, sir. I’ll lose her name.”
“Good man. I’ll know if you don’t.” Turning away, I was still furious, but at least the idiot hadn’t had bad intent in mind.
“What about my camera?”
I’d be damned. Stopping short, I surprised myself by not being in the mood to teach the kid a lesson in manners. Not today. At this point I just wanted a cognac, a cigar, and a good night’s sleep.
After I checked to ensure the prick hadn’t been a decoy—fuck me, that I hadn’t thought about—I yanked out my wallet, pulling a wad of cash into my hand. When I spun around, I shook my head. “This ought to cover your loss. Now, go home.” I took a long stride over him, heading back where I came.
I should have known better that something had been going on behind the scenes. Why the hell had this William Dreyfus paid a photographer that much money? For what? Some exclusive? Catching her in some intimate act? No, that didn’t make any sense.
I was missing something or maybe I was just too tired to think clearly.
While I shoved my weapon back into my jacket pocket, I kept a watchful eye until I was standing in the same place I’d been before.
At least this time, only the light over the stove was on, the blinds at least partially closed.
Exhaling, I remained where I was, determined to make certain Peter didn’t come back around.
Her bedroom light on her second floor popped on a few seconds later and I leaned against her fence, crossing my arms.
I’d suffered while watching her twirling in time to the music for almost two hours, nursing another drink to keep myself from losing my goddamn mind. She’d danced in a group, with guys, with other girls. Enjoying the hell out of herself.
And I’d been the fucking idiot on the side watching her. Why? Because that was my job. Then after she’d gone inside, I’d remained a creeper, pretending I’d left so if she looked out the window she wouldn’t see my car.
Then I’d doubled back and parked, walking to her house and standing in the perfect place to see her enjoying a drink with her friends.
No blinds either. I’d need to mention that to Jaxon. Maybe he could talk some sense into her.
She was a sitting duck to anyone who wanted to get to her.
Me included.
I stood waiting outside for an additional thirty minutes until I’d finally labeled myself a creeper.
Which I was.
As soon as I slipped into the driver’s seat, I pulled out the business card again. Tomorrow I’d confront the asshole and find out who the fuck he was.
The route I took heading to my house meant the streets were mostly deserted, most in residential neighborhoods. It allowed me time to think about how much being around the woman always affected me. Too much.
Now I was lamenting the evening, trying to determine what in the fuck had possessed me to treat her like a child. Even worse, why had I believed it my right to pull her over my lap and spank her?
Yes, she’d acted irrationally, but it was all driven by the way things had recently played themselves out. She didn’t normally try to place herself in harm’s way.
That meant she was antsy with her life, angry that she’d been born into a world where women were usually not allowed to be a part of the mafia business. Granted, she’d been protected in her youth, allowed to attend college in New York.
When she’d returned, her affinity for marketing and business had been immediately seen as an attribute for the legitimate ideals and artistry of the corporation. She was freaking brilliant, as savvy in public relations as I’d seen anyone be.
She’d also had a target on her back more times than she had any understanding of.
But I knew.
I’d watched monsters come and go, gathering her aroma and biding their time. What no one knew what that I’d killed more than one in my duty to protect her, bloody acts I’d been forbidden to share with her.
I’d been there every time an attack or kidnapping had been thwarted. The family hadn’t wanted her to learn the truth, especially after the murder of their father. Maybe if she had been told she would never consider doing anything that would place her life in jeopardy.
Then again, was that really living?
The answer was easy in my mind. Hell, no.
Having a photographer stalk her like some common criminal was just another reminder that she wasn’t truly safe anywhere.
Nor could she vacate any aspect of who she was even for a short duration.
The Prince brothers enjoyed the spotlight or at least tolerated it even with their growing families.
Not Emmeline. She was determined to live a normal life. Whatever that meant.
I parked the car on the street, a half block from the house, unable to get the beautiful woman and the interaction off my mind.
While I doubted she’d ever mention what had occurred to anyone, I had to be prepared in case she did.
I was a stupid idiot. I had a great life and I was about to fuck it up because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.
With the keys in hand, I climbed from my Charger, admiring the almost full moon adding an eerie complexity to the sky. With strange swirling clouds, the look was befitting being so close to Halloween.
As I headed down the sidewalk, every time I thought about another man putting his hands on her I strangled them in my mind. I was clearly incapable of separating business from pleasure.
And no additional pleasure would be allowed. I found myself flexing my hand the entire time I was walking toward my house.
She’d been a wiggling thing. Laughing, I touched my stomach where she’d hit me with three solid punches. I hadn’t acknowledged the pain, but goddamn, the woman knew how to throw a punch.
I was still laughing as I jogged onto the porch.
My house was a fucking picturesque, oversized bungalow with a massive front porch and painted Tudor-style columns in a festive blue.
I hadn’t selected the colors, but the house had been on the market for a song, likely given a murder had occurred inside.
What did I care since I’d killed many times over the years?
Another funny thing about the house. Emmeline had gifted me with several hours of her interior design skill. And she was legendary.
Well, I tried to keep the house neat while being here little more than to sleep, shower, and occasionally grab a coffee.
I pulled out my keys, taking a few seconds as I always did to glance up and down the street. What the location didn’t have was a garage and it was right on a main street.
Jaxon was always trying to convince me to buy another house, but this one suited me.
As soon as I placed the key into the lock, something caught my attention. I wasn’t entirely certain what it was, but I was positive that I’d either heard or seen something.
Pulling back, I even walked down the stairs, taking more than a few seconds to scan the street. Given the late hour, other than a few cars passing by, there was almost no one out.
After the evening’s festivities, it was possible I was just being extra cautious.
However, I did walk to both sides of the house, the full moon allowing me to see the area clearly. There was no one hiding in the shadows.
With a shake of my head, I returned to the front door, once again sliding the key into the lock. Call it instinct or training, but at the same time I turned the knob, a realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
I hadn’t left a light on in the house and I’d seen one on in the kitchen through a slightly open blind.
A single click and all I had time to do was to jump away from the door before…
Boom!