21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
The Hound
She’s hiding so much. I can see it in her face when she listens to me share my life. I can see it in the way her eyes darken when I mention anything about my past. She’s got hidden truths beneath her fa?ade, and I have a feeling no one knows it all.
But I fucking want to.
I’m going to.
She’s quiet through the rest of dinner, appearing to be consumed by the chicken tacos in front of her. But I know there’s more than that going on in her brain. I also know that if I go digging, she’s going to close off completely. I haven’t figured out the key to unlocking her, but I will.
I’m already getting close with the men that she surrounds herself with—and now that two have died after seeing her, I have so much to figure out. However, I’m pretty sure the key to that lies in her past, and that is something that’s buttoned up tight.
And clearly by the work of a professional.
“Ready for work?” I ask her as I finish signing the receipt and slide it away. “Looks like you’ll be a little early.” I check my watch, and then smile at her. I know I’m a possessive asshole, but honestly, I can’t trust her. Not yet.
“Yeah, I guess,” she says with a shrug as we slide out.
“Your friend with the blue hair—”
“Sarah, and she’s a lesbian, so don’t get any ideas.” Cher eyes me, her tone suddenly sharp and threatening.
I chuckle darkly, my cock stirring at the vile jealousy in her eyes. “I was going to ask if you met her at work or if you knew her before.”
“Oh.” She blushes, looking away. “I met her at work. We don’t hang out much outside of work, but she’s a good friend.”
“Like meet up in an alleyway kind of friend.”
“I told you, she was giving me a book.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a sharp sigh—like she’s annoyed by the fact we both know there was way more to it than book. Even if I can’t prove it, I’m no fucking idiot.
“Right.” I reach for her hand, but she stiffens this time. Fuck. Did I trigger her somehow? Trying to feel out this woman is like trying not to set off a stick of dynamite when you’re made of fire. I’m rusty with romance maybe, but I’m not fucking rusty with figuring people out.
“So how are you going to lie to Henry about picking me up?” She doesn’t pull her hand from mine, but also doesn’t interlace her fingers like before.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out.”
“You’re not going to stay the whole time, right?”
Wrong.
“Nah, I’ll give you your space.”
She nods, but I can’t read anything beyond that. We make it to the bar, and she pulls away from me.
I tug her back. “Have a nice shift.”
She audibly swallows as my lips graze her forehead. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll see you... later. ”
Something about her tone is off, but I let it go. I’m the kind of person who will read too far into a moment that means nothing. So, I let her go, watching her walk inside. The sun is still high in the sky and won’t set for another couple of hours. In that time, I won’t be keeping a close eye on her. Well, from close up anyway.
I pull out my phone and check that her location remains shared with me. I’m still uneasy about the fact my app either failed or was overridden. But who else would keep tabs on her? Henry?
Possible.
I spin on my heels and head for the building across the street, which just so happens to be apartments. Did I rent an Air BnB to watch her?
Absolutely, I did.
Paying no one else any attention, I enter the complex and head up to the penthouse. I ride the elevator and whistle a tune I heard somewhere on the street, the eerie tone of my own voice a bit unsettling.
I step off onto my floor, and punch in the code—that I’ve changed without the owner’s permission. I’ll switch it back before I leave, but for the duration I’m borrowing this place, I’d rather it be slightly more secure. I step inside the empty space and make my way to the tinted glass window.
Grabbing the scope I had delivered here, I hold it up to my eyes and peer through it, getting the perfect view of the rooftop bar. Cher looks as beautiful as always, though she’s not nearly as friendly with the customers tonight.
Good girl.
I mean, for what it is, I’ll take her not flirting with men as a sign that maybe I’m encroaching on her heart. My phone buzzes on my lap, and I sigh, picking it up.
Henry: Where are you?
Rolling my eyes, I text him back.
Me: Looking at a penthouse.
Henry: Why?
Me: Because I can. What do you need?
Henry: You to stop being so fucking weird.
I laugh at the text, shaking my head and zeroing in on Cher again. I know Henry is suspicious—enough to scroll through my computer’s history to figure out what I’ve been up to. He’s catching on that I’m up to something, but good riddance.
It’s about time I have some fun.
My cock is rigid with want as Cher leans against the bar, her ass popped up and out. None of the customers can see, but I can. I fight the urge to get off on the sight of her, but I refrain. For the moment.
Because my fucking phone is ringing.
“What?” I snap into the receiver.
“What are you doing?”
“I told you, I’m looking at a penthouse.”
“No, you’re not. You’re at a penthouse.”
“Did you pull my location?” I growl at him, livid.
“Yeah,” Henry’s tone is just as icy. “I’m ready to make a move. Jaxton is at a party, and I’m catching him tonight.”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “Why? I thought we were doing the costume party this weekend?”
“I’m ready for some free time to know what the fuck you’re doing.”
I roll my eyes. “Can I not have a life outside of you? You act like a controlling, jealous girlfriend.”
“Every time you have a life outside of us, you’re doing something behind my back.”
“Right, because helping Luca was such a fucking betrayal. Get over it. It wasn’t about you.” I don’t hold back my anger, mostly because I’ve now lost sight of Cher—which is concerning. She’s only been at her shift for thirty minutes.
Maybe she’s just going to the bathroom...
“You did all of that, and hid Emma—”
“And did she die?” I cut him off. “No. And for fuck’s sake, Henry, that was months ago. You would’ve done the same for him had roles been reversed. I’m tired of this coming up constantly.”
“It doesn’t come up constantly.”
“Whatever. I’ll head back, so we can divert from the plan.”
“Good, and then you can answer why you have a penthouse directly across from my sister’s job.”
“Can’t see her from where I’m at,” I lie, dropping the scope onto the couch and shoving it between the cushions of the white leather. “But even if I was watching her, it’d be less creepy than skulking around in the fucking woods.”
“Get the fuck back here.” He hangs up on me.
I tip my head back and run a hand over my face, frustration boiling up in my chest. I’ve done nothing but be a loyal dog to Henry for fucking years. I just want a chance to explore my own fucking urges. I mean, he did it without asking. He just ordered me around like always—and I did as he said.
So fuck him.
This one is for me.
But also... duty calls. I exit the penthouse, and ride the elevator down, now knowing that Henry is probably clocking my every move. It’s fucking annoying, but I can block him—and will if I need to.
When I step out onto the street, it’s busier than before, with all the club goers out and about, sipping their drinks and laughing obnoxiously. I’m in a ripe mood thanks to Henry, and the piercing laughs only serve to agitate me further, so it comes as no surprise that I don’t hear the person speaking to me.
“Excuse me, sir?”
I keep walking as the guy calls out, and until a hand lands on my shoulder. I spin around to see a man a couple of inches shorter than me. “Yeah?”
“You dropped this.” He holds out a phone—and it’s not mine.
I shake my head. “Uh, nope.”
“Yeah, I think so.” His hazel eyes meet mine and hold them too long. “I’m sure it is.”
I furrow my brow but take it from him. “Okay. Whatever you say.” Before I even can look at the screen, the guy disappears into the crowd. I stare after him, and then glance down at the phone. When it lights up, my heart drops.
I’m staring right into familiar ocean blue eyes. It’s clearly Cher. But it’s not my Cher. It’s a version of Cher I’ve never seen before. She’s young. Very young. Maybe high school? She’s smiling. It’s genuine.
And so different than the smile she wears now.
Before I dig further into the contents of whatever the fuck has just been handed to me, I race in the direction that the guy came from, searching for him. What the fuck did he even look like? What color was his hair? What was he wearing?
My mind fucking fails me. I usually have an incredible memory, but I’ve been way too distracted lately.
My gaze searches the sea of faces, and none of them look familiar. I was so caught up in my fucking self that I mentally checked out of the interaction. I’ll have to search the CCTV footage. My phone begins to buzz in my pocket, and I swap phones, pulling it out to see Henry’s name on the screen.
Good fucking riddance.
“I’m on my way back,” I snap as I answer. “Give me longer than five minutes to get there.”
“I’m on him now,” Henry ignores my jab.
“Okay,” I grunt, picking up into a jog. “I’m like ten minutes away, so don’t do anything stupid until I can get eyes on you.”
“He’s almost home now. I think I’ll just take him out there.”
“He has security cameras,” I mutter, picking up my pace. My head is still spinning from the encounter I had with the stranger, but I compartmentalize it and continue on. I’ll dig into the phone later when I’m alone and this shit show is over.
“Turn them off,” Henry snaps.
“Well, that would be simple if I was at home. I’m not. I’m running down the fucking street, asshole.”
“Run faster.”
I roll my eyes and turn the corner, darting into the lobby of the apartment building. I punch the elevator up button, and wait, sucking in a deep breath. When the doors slide open a couple of people step out and I slide past them.
“You there yet? I’m killing time a block away,” Henry asks, still sounding annoyed.
“Almost.” I sprint for the apartment and punch in the code, opening the door. Cash greets me with a growl and then wiggling butt. I give him a pat as I make my way to my makeshift cave, and a few moments later, I’m plopped down in the desk chair. I shut off the security cameras and send the feed to my computer. “You’re good to go.”
I swap to the headset, and ready myself. “Don’t waste a bunch of time. If something gets tripped, you’re fucked. The response time is literal minutes to this place.”
“I hear you.”
“Don’t make a mess,” I warn him.
“Some of the best cleanup crews are in Vegas,” Henry retorts.
I choose silence to that—because he’s right—and then I dig the other phone out of my pocket. I should’ve checked to see if it had any trackers on it before I brought it, but it’s too late for that. I’ll run a scan on it after I see what’s there. I set it on the desk, that smiling picture of Cher almost eerie now that I can really take it in. I realize suddenly she’s in a school uniform, her dark hair in careful waves.
But she’s not looking at the camera.
Furrowing my brows, I slide to unlock the phone—and it does instantly, no passcode required. Something about that really bothers me.
“Where is he?” Henry’s voice jerks me back.
“Um,” I look up from the phone to the computer, scanning the footage. Sure enough, my eyes land on the target within a few seconds. “Master bedroom. Probably about to shower, since he’s getting naked and all. Thought you said he was at a party.”
Henry grunts with no explanation, and I go back to the phone, seeing that there’s nothing there. There’s no service in the top right-hand corner, and it doesn’t take long for me to assume someone purposefully handed me this. My stomach lurches as there’s only one thing for me to click on.
Photo gallery.
I don’t like anything about this, and just as I go to press it, Henry comes back on, flashing across the bedroom screen. Shit. I set the phone down and give my full attention to the camera feed. I have to wait to investigate until I know Henry is in the clear.
His shadow-like figure slinks along the master bedroom, and in my headset, I can hear the shower running. It’s a smart move to grab him in the shower, honestly. It makes the cleanup easy. I turn the volume up and wait as he slips into the bathroom.
Keeping my eyes focused on the screen, I hold my breath. Two soft pops later, Henry emerges from the bathroom.
“Done,” is all he says. “Call in clean-up crew.”
“Why did you use the most obvious—”
“Just call in for cleanup.” He cuts me off. “I’ll be back, and you better be ready to tell me what the fuck you’re up to.”
That’s why he did it like this.
I’m pissed, and in silence, I go through the protocol, calling in cleanup and covering the footage as quickly as possible. It’s tedious work to ensure it’s done properly, and by the time I finish, Henry is walking through the door. I grab the device with God-knows-what on it and shove it in my pocket.
His footsteps are heavy, and that fact alone is evidence shit is about to go down between us. I pull up Cher’s location and check one more time, seeing that she’s still at work. It probably won’t be hard to come up with an excuse to leave now. I’ll need the air.
Henry appears in the doorway as soon as I close out of it. “Spill it.”
“Spill what?” I glare up at him. “I did what I was supposed to. Cleanup crew is on their way, and no cops have been called.”
“Why were you at a penthouse across from my sister’s work?”
I don’t fucking budge. “Why are you snooping on me? You’re not my fucking keeper, Henry.”
“Just tell me what you’re doing.”
“I need my own space—away from you, the dog, and your sister.” It’s a partial truth, and partial truths are easier to maintain.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Uh huh. And I take it that’s where you’ve been going?”
“Yep,” I answer him. “Sometimes I just want to decompress somewhere other than here with the Bayne siblings.”
“Hiring prostitutes or something?”
Okay, that was an unexpected jab.
“Uh, no. You know me better than that.”
“I know you’re obsessing over a bunch of dead guys—and I’ve read on the dark web someone thinks the Black Widow is doing it.”
I freeze. Where did I miss that? “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I was curious about the dead bodies showing up all over the city.”
“I figured maybe you’d hit the trail while looking into Jaxton Banks. I thought about borrowing the MO on Jaxton Banks, but it wasn’t worth it. Too close of contact.”
“Says the man who cuts throats,” I snort like I’m not internally wigging out over this newfound fact—one that I should’ve found. Fuck, I’m slipping.
“So is that what you’re chasing?” Henry holds my gaze.
“Yeah,” I answer him. It’s close enough to the truth that he won’t question it. “Seems intriguing.”
“And dangerous.”
“I need a little danger in my life,” I snap back at him, the unsearched phone burning a hole in my pocket.
“Now that this is over, if you want to stay at your penthouse, I would prefer it.” Henry’s voice is cold—so cold it’s almost startling. “I don’t want you to bring any of this to my sister’s home.”
I glare at him. “You’re being stupid right now.”
“So are you.”
My jaw sets so fucking hard it hurts. “You’re holding grudges tighter than Lydia’s throat, and you’ll be lucky if you still have a partner after this.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he snarls. “And I see how you look at my sister. I’ve killed for less.”
“Wow, okay.” I huff, pushing myself up from my chair. I grab for my suitcase in the corner of the room. “This was never about my internet searches, was it?”
“She’s too good for you, Jude.”
“Probably.” I don’t meet his gaze as I toss it on the bed and start filling it with my shit. I could argue that his sister visits sex clubs and flirts with men who end up dead, but I don’t. I wouldn’t throw Cher under the bus like that. I’ll let her maintain her pretty little fa?ade.
“Why don’t you just fly back to California?” His voice is less cruel—probably because I’m fucking packing, but it’s still annoyingly angry. He has no idea either. If he knew I’d been two fingers deep in his sister, I might be dead right now.
“You are not my mother.” I zip up the first suitcase and toss it to the side. Then, I pull out my phone, scheduling an Uber. He has no idea that running me out is giving me a leg up with Cher. I’ll no longer be under his supervision. And I can do whatever the fuck I want.
“You’re not even going to argue with me.” Henry’s voice is flat. “What the fuck?”
“What do you want me to say?” I turn to him. “You want me to sit and confirm that I have checked your sister out? Would that make you feel better? You want to know that I thought about her underneath—”
I don’t get to finish. Henry’s fist hits my nose with a sick thud. Pain sears through my entire face, but I deserve it. I do. But at the moment, I don’t care. He can go fuck himself.
“Get the fuck out of this apartment,” Henry sneers as he staggers back.
“Gladly,” I mutter as he leaves the room. The door slams, and I glance down at the blood dripping onto my shirt. Even had I not made the comment, it was coming anyway. I spend the next thirty minutes repacking all my shit—including my computers. After that, I lug it all down to the Uber without a single offer of help from Henry.
Not that I expect or deserve it.
The driver doesn’t question my nose or the ice pack I carry as I climb into the backseat. My head is fucking pounding, and as the car pulls away from the curb, my phone starts to buzz. I sigh, pulling it out to see the notification.
Cher stopped sharing her location with you.
I breathe in a long, deep breath. She’s either fucking with me, fucking someone else, or someone is trying to fuck up her.
And I have no idea which it is.
But this night is about to get interesting.