Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
CADE
Honestly, I didn’t really come by to fuck her. I wanted to check in on her. Make sure she’s okay.
Enzo and I found some disturbing stuff.
Not so much down a rabbit hole, but by connecting dots and old-fashioned hacking.
This is hack into old files. Old shit.
Sealed.
Victim reports.
A crime that was disturbing, to say the least.
It seems way back, when he was both underage and way before he went into politics, our good council member almost beat a stripper to death.
After he raped her.
His rich boy’s family got him off the hook and kept him from having a record by making huge donations and paying off the victim.
The victim died, not long after he was charged. Overdose.
Is the timing of her death suspicious?
I’m not overly sure on that as she had a rough life, a lot of convictions for prostitution and drugs, but I will say it was convenient timing.
That was when he was sixteen. Closed doors stuff in regards to all the legal bullshit I can’t be bothered with.
Then he either kept his predilections under wraps or he learned to do things without getting caught.
Right until he was twenty.
That girl complained of being shared against her will at a frat party. She was hired for entertainment, and it was glossed over because all the guys were rich and their careers were more important.
Enzo and I have that list now.
Better late than never.
But in this moment, those men aren’t our concern.
Isaac is.
Because that girl turned up dead, too. OD’d too. But she did have a spotty relationship with drugs.
After that party and what those men did to her, that’s when the drug abuse began.
This one didn’t have priors for anything. She took up stripping to pay her way through school.
My stomach turns.
Because Isaac seems to be at the center of these.
All rumors about him we scraped from the dregs of the internet are just hearsay, no filed reports, no charges, just chatter of pay offs and beatings and forced sex.
And all have been brushed aside.
A lot of them describe Isaac but don’t mention his name.
Now his sights are set on Vi.
Everything we learned tells me he’s bad news, and he holds grudges.
It should turn me off being The Ghost with her.
Instead, what do I do? Give her good guy Cade and then get jealous of myself as The Ghost.
Kind of.
Fuck, I still love she’s turned on by it all, but now it’s so damned complicated because I don’t think I expected to develop deep feelings for her.
What they are, I don’t know. I haven’t dwelled on them. But I know I like being around her, I’m obsessed with her, and I fucking love everything I’ve discovered about her.
I thought I knew her when she was with Jack, and I did. But not like now. Not where she makes things in me throb with need and longing.
But I should have told her early on I was The Ghost. Seen how that played out.
The Ghost hasn’t even fucking kissed her and sure, that’s not part of the play with him, but now I can see why I’ve kept that in its fantasy land tight little box.
I don’t want our first kiss to be with me as The Ghost.
I want it to be with me as me.
And the peck at her office doesn’t count. That was for show, not what she deserves.
And now…I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance for that first kiss.
So, as sleazy as it is, I’ll fuck her as The Ghost one more time. Give her the thrill of her life, too.
I’m going to have to jump her at her door, manage to follow her up with my hood over my face, and then blindfold her.
Then…then I’ll let her know.
We’re both so addicted to this. I’m aware.
And I’m also aware that our urges and needs match, like she’s my other half.
I want to do this as much as she does.
But I’m older. I should fucking know better.
Vi finishes her wine, and she’s nervous, picking at her salad. She orders one more glass which makes me smile from where I sit in the café across the road with a coffee in front of me.
I can see her perfectly. The sun’s angle is just right so the glass on the bar doesn’t reflect back.
My body tingles.
I should have put this off, said no. I should have collected her and taken her back to my place and told her the truth.
She deserves that truth, and I don’t know what’s going to happen after this. I can’t shake the feeling this is our last interaction. As The Ghost and Vi2l. As Cade and Violet.
Two asshole brothers, both letting her down, and I should be the one who knows better.
Jack has idiotic youth on his side.
Me? No fucking excuses at all.
But it’s too late for that.
If this is going to be our last time together, then I’m going to make it memorable. Because I don’t know what she’ll do or how she’ll react when she finds out the truth.
I have a blindfold in my pocket.
Had it there ever since I discovered how dirty Vi is.
And it has already come in handy.
Just might be its last outing today.
I pull up the Ghost chat on my phone and text her.
Me: When you’re ready, finish your second glass and go.
She looks around, trying to catch someone texting.
In the corner is a guy on his phone, and she zeroes in on him. But the thing is, she has no clue, and the frustration blooms.
She pays her bill, finishes her glass and goes.
Me: Remember the rules. No looking around. Let’s see if you can make it to your apartment without being attacked. Without being dragged off the street. No screaming, no looking. Go.
She stands on the street and hesitates but then puts her phone away and starts home.
I follow at a leisurely pace.
I don’t even need to do this.
I’ve got keys.
But I need to get in moments after her.
If she turns on the stairs or lays in wait the moment I follow her into her foyer, I’m ready.
Bring on that hot, risky fight.
This is a heightened thrill for me. Because so much is hanging on me getting her without her seeing my face.
As I follow behind her, I leave a lot of space, hood up.
It’s that time of the afternoon where the residential streets aren’t busy.
Vi crosses a road, and I wait for a car to pass.
I’m not in a hurry. I could really just go another way, a short cut, as she’s taking the longer route back. The one I sent her home on that time.
Shock races up my spine.
That time?
It hasn’t been that long, but there’s so much richness, so much depth to my life with Vi that a part of me has trouble seeing life without her in it.
Add in the dynamics of Vi and The Ghost…
Fuck.
I could lose it all.
I draw in a breath and cross the road. This time, I cut to the opposite side, so if she turns, she won’t see me behind her.
Someone else hurries along the same path she’s on. Hood up, hands in pockets.
Normally, I wouldn’t think much of it, but the man’s outfit rubs me the wrong way. Hoodie, dress pants, brogues.
Coldness rushes through my bones.
Whoever it is catches up fast. There’s intent in his step, and I swear menace rolls off in waves.
I cut across the street, darting between traffic to be on the same side of the street as both of them.
Vi doesn’t look behind, but she must somehow pick up on whoever it is, and she speeds up.
I’m about to let out a breath of air when the man speeds up, too.
The man closes the gap and grabs her hair, pulling her against him.
Vi doesn’t scream, just struggles in a play way, but he’s rough.
Fuck.
She thinks it’s me.
My instincts kick in.
I run, tackling the guy, and then I rip him off her, throwing him to the ground and landing a blow to the kidneys and then the ribs with my foot.
Black belt be damned.
The rage in me is red, tinges with black destruction.
That’s when I see his face.
Fucking Isaac.
He coughs, trying to get back up, trying to swing at me, and I’m on him, flipping him, hair in hand and head pulled back as I kneel on him.
I want to smash his face into the pavement over and over until it’s nothing but pulp.
But I hold his head back, knowing it hurts, knowing the asshole thinks I’m moments from snapping his neck.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He grunts, and I slam his head into the pavement.
There’s a roaring in my ears and then everything goes a deadly calm as I turn him and proceed to beat the living shit out of him.
He’s bloody, and his fight turns feeble until it’s nothing at all, and he’s unconscious.
I punch him one more time, then stand, ready to bring my boot down on his face when I come back to reality. The noise of the city.
Vi.
She’s on the pavement. Hand to mouth. Eyes huge and afraid.
He must have knocked her down.
Shit, I might have knocked her down.
I lower my foot and step over his unconscious form and extend my hand to Violet, unsure if she’ll take it.
But she does.
She wraps her slender fingers around mine, and they’re ice.
We stare at each other.
I have words of comfort, arms that can hold her and protect her, but the moment she’s on her feet, she shakes her hand loose and stumbles back a little.
All I can see is horror. Disbelief as she takes me in, and there’s real uncertainty in her eyes.
“Vi?”
But it’s like she can’t hear me, like she’s spinning out of control, turning to ice, unable to move.
I can see it in her face.
I do the one thing I can think of to stop that spinning out.
I kiss her.
And she tastes like summer and secrets. She’s warm and soft, and my world goes haywire.
Vi kisses me back, a slow, melting move that makes her almost flutter against me.
Her lips part, our tongues touch.
It is, in a word, perfection.
When I pull back, reality crashes back.
We’re in the street, and I meant to only…
I don’t know what the fuck I meant.
“Vi…”
She blinks, pink a watercolor brush stroke on her cheeks.
Violet’s back in the moment, and her frown flicks over her face.
She looks up at me. “Cade? What are you doing here?”