25. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
The Hound
I stare at the fucking doorbell camera while she loses it outside my apartment. I fucking hate what I just saw on her phone. I hate that she lied to me. I hate that she spews nothing but lies when she speaks, and if I was a lesser man, I’d cut her tongue right out of her mouth for it.
She mumbles incoherently, but the tantrum doesn’t sway me. She might belong to me, but she doesn’t deserve my attention right now. She has no idea of the path she’s going down though. I might not slit throats or choke women out with leather belts, but I can still fucking destroy someone if I want to.
I start the coffee pot and open my phone to her location, deciding I’ll keep a closer eye on her today. I thought we’d made it past this stage, but clearly not. I head back to my room and dig into the pocket of my jeans from yesterday. I pull out the phone and grab a charger. I plug it in and power it back on.
Maybe she’s into sex work, and she’s just playing innocent.
Maybe this is her burner phone for whatever reason.
There’s a million reasons for this device in my hand, but right now, I’m starting to wonder if someone is trying to warn me about the woman who rode my unprotected dick this morning. The lock screen pops up, and I’m once again met with that young version of Cher, her porcelain skin untouched by an ink gun.
My stomach flips as I unlock it.
“Just a photo gallery,” I say aloud, talking myself through it as I click to open it. But bile instantly rises in my throat. I don’t have to enlarge the thumbnails of the pictures and videos to know what I’m looking at.
What. The. Fuck.
The first picture in the sequence of many, many explicit photos is a screenshot of a typewritten bit on the notepad app. I open it first.
She was mine first, and she always will be.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, and then bracing myself for what’s to come, I swipe. It’s explicit photos of Cher, but they’re clearly taken without her consent. In fact, based on my experience, I don’t think she’s conscious in most of them. I swipe through them as fast as possible, anger boiling with every single one.
But then I make it to the videos.
“You’re a good little girl for me,” the voice behind the camera coos as he cradles her mostly limp, naked body. She mutters something, but her voice slurs, her eyes are heavy, and everything is wrong. “In time, you’ll like it when I touch you.”
I stop the film, set the phone down, take a deep breath...and then punch the coffee mug sitting on top of the bar. It busts on impact with my fist, and shards scatter across the kitchen. I was right all along. Something broke her.
And now I know what it is.
“Or part of it.” I rip the phone from the charger, and head straight for my computers in the spare room. They’re not set up, but it shouldn’t take me that long. To keep the murderous rage at bay, I focus on my setup, randomly checking every so often to make sure Cher made it home.
If someone is watching close enough to feel the need to give me this phone, then that means they’re probably always watching her—and I can fix that. I also am certain there’s more copies of these photos and videos.
And I’ll delete them all. They have no idea who the fuck they’re messing with.
An hour later, I’m plugging the thing into my computer. I don’t have to watch anymore of the videos to know why Cher is a roller coaster of reactions.
But does Henry know?
I saw the school uniform. She was so fucking young. Heart pounding, I run a program to pull a transcript of the audio. I scroll through it and find myself swallowing vomit over and over again.
“Come on, little girl, you don’t want your brother to find out. I’ll be gentle.”
“I’ll give you the best recommendation letter.”
“You’ll be nothing to anyone else, so just let me in.”
“No one will want you after this, so just let me have you for a while.”
“All the girls at your school will be so jealous.”
I pull the necessary information from the revolting rape videos, compiling it into a file. As much as I hate what I’m reading, I have to find this fucker—and then I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll kill his entire family one by one if I have to. He will pay for what he did.
My hands tremble as I try to dig through Cher’s past as quickly as possible, searching for who the bastard could be. I can already guess it’s related to her stupid private school. But could someone have found the images online somewhere and they’re fucking with me? Or is this direct from the source?
I have hours of work ahead of me, but...I also have to keep Cher safe.
She needs to stay with Henry. But what about her lunch plans?
“Fuck,” I slam my fist down on the desk, knowing I can’t let her go unwatched. And now, knowing what I do, my guess is someone overrode my program on her phone. If I could tell Henry, we could work it out together as a team.
But he’d kill me before I got two words in.
I glance down at the screen of my phone, seeing her location moving from her apartment. I know she’s not with Henry now. I could stay here and pick through footage, but then I won’t be right there if she needs help.
And I don’t know who this Liam guy is.
Shoving myself back from my chair, I change clothes, dressing like a dipshit hipster with the flat bill that covers my face. I power down the device and take only my phone. I’m still pissed about the fact she lied to me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ll go to war for her.
And now I see that I’ll have to.
My phone buzzes as I exit into the hallway. I lift it, hoping it’s Cher, but it’s not. It’s Henry. Fuck.
“Yeah?” I answer, touching my bruised nose.
“Where are you?”
“That doesn’t sound like an apology.”
“I have nothing to apologize for,” Henry snaps. “Where are you? Cher thinks you need to go with us to house hunt so you can double check the security cameras.”
“Think I’ll pass.” I need to stay here and figure out who did this to her.
He sighs. “Just come with us.”
“I’d rather not.” I step out into the lobby, and throw an ear bud in my ear, swapping the call to it.
“If she wants you to go, then I want you to go.”
“I might look at her ass,” I snort, never mind the fact I had two fingers in it this morning.
“Don’t fucking test me, Jude. Just come with us. I’m meeting her outside her work when she finishes lunch.”
“Cool, thanks for the update.” I hang up on him. My head is still spinning from what I found out. I want to murder anyone and everyone who ever made my girl feel less than what she is.
I eye the dot moving across the screen, stopping at the same coffee shop and deli that we went to the night I got wasted. Part of me feels sick. Part of me doesn’t even care at this point. She could be fucking ten different men, and I’d still go to hell and back for her.
Before I get there, I slip into a convenience store, buying a pack of cigarettes. I rarely light one up, but I’m not sure I can see her with someone else and not lose my shit. As soon as I’m outside, I pull one out of the pack, light it, and take a draw. The buzz in my head calms me down, and I take my sweet time as I walk the rest of the way to the coffee shop. At first, I pass by the window, calmly eyeing the crowd inside.
It's fucking packed, but I spot Cher in the corner booth, facing away from me. It gives me exactly the angle I need. I put out the cigarette and toss it into the trash can, then slip inside and take a seat one table over with my back to her.
And then I just fucking listen.
“You must be busy,” Cher comments, her voice light and ingenuine. “Anything interesting going on with work?”
The guy laughs. “It’s Vegas. There’s always something interesting, but I took Amelia up to Reno this last weekend. I think you should meet her. The two of you would get along.”
“Oh,” she hums, but I can hear the irritation in her voice. She’s fishing for something else—and who is this guy? It sounds... platonic.
I pull out my phone and start running searches on Liam. After a few painful moments, I find him. A headshot and job title.
Homicide detective.
My mind is all over the fucking place. I’m not fucking crazy, but I feel crazy. What is she doing with a homicide detective? It can’t be by chance. Is she...working undercover?
“Oh shit,” the guy says. “I have to go. It looks like we got another call. I swear, it’s always fucking something. Probably another overdose. Let’s catch up later. It was good to see you.”
“Yeah, you, too,” Cher says flatly. “You’re one of the few friends I have in this town.”
“Don’t kill anyone and I’ll keep it that way,” he laughs. He walks past me as he exits, and I nearly gag on the amount of cologne the guy has on. I watch as he leaves, and then I wait for Cher to pass.
But she doesn’t budge.
I take the risk, glancing over my shoulder at the woman who I’m obsessed with, angry with, and dying to fucking save—all at once. She’s slumped over, her head in her hands. My heart jumps to my throat, and I continue to watch as she puts her phone to her ear. I glance back down at my own...
But it doesn’t ring.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. I wouldn’t fucking call me either. Maybe I should’ve opened the door for her. Maybe I should’ve just asked her about the guy—and why she had to lie. But then again, maybe she’s hiding the fact she’s working with the cops? That would be a reason to hide it.
Maybe that’s why she’s out late at night.
Jeez, just tell me the truth, Cher.
I know I won’t bring up what I’ve found though. I know I won’t pick at her pain in that way. I’ll sort it all out for her, and then I’ll bring her his head on a silver fucking platter.
“Hey, do you know if he’s going with us?” Her voice draws me out of my thoughts. “Those security cameras are a big deal to me.”
I smile to myself. You little fucking liar.