Chapter Seven #2
A tap at the window stops her mid-sentence.
“What was that?” she asks, getting to her feet immediately.
I stand, too, wanting to grab her, but I forget about the chains and stumble.
Instinctively, she’s at my side, grinning. “Steady there, big boy.”
It’s honestly like she’s forgotten I’m here—technically—against my will. Her hands are on my arm, stabilizing me. I could wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze until the light leaves her eyes.
“Rule number one, Killer.”
“Right...” Her hands are still on me, her eyes are fluttering, pushing the limit. See? An eternal optimist.
But she has to learn. Luca will tap again any minute. She needs to learn as much as Luca needs to see that I’m not completely thinking with my dick. I don’t need anyone in my ranks, even if it is my oldest friend, thinking I’m not fully in control.
I snap my hand out and grab her by the throat, the clink of chains ringing against the sharp exhale of her breath.
I’m careful to squeeze only the side of her neck and not her windpipe.
Her right hand instantly pulls at my wrist, and a slight panic reaches her eyes, but it quickly morphs into something else entirely.
To drive home my point, I squeeze the tips of my fingers and thumb, leaning into her closer so my lips brush against the shell of her ear.
“I warned you, Olivia.”
She quivers beneath me—in fear or something else? I can’t tell.
“And I warned you,” she says. Her right hand stops pulling me away, instead moving her own hand over mine, guiding my fingers to increase their pressure. It’s my turn to exhale sharply now; our noses are almost touching as our breath mingles together.
I could tilt my head down to meet her defiantly raised chin. I could press my lips against hers and run my tongue along the seam of her lips. But before I can make my next move, her left hand snakes up the inside of my leg, cupping the hardening bulge in my pants.
“You don’t know me,” she whispers.
She squeezes firmly, not enough to hurt, but the warning is there, and fuck does it turn me on.
I push her head back so my lips tease against hers. My eyes drop down. I pull back the smallest amount. “Not yet. I want to, though, Killer.”
“I don’t think you could handle me.”
“Want to renegotiate that deal we were going to make last night? I could prove you wrong.”
Tap. Tap.
Fuck.
Her hand is off my erection and my wrist. I release her neck, and she storms to the window.
“It’s just the wind,” I say lamely.
“How would you know it’s just the wind?”
She unhooks the window and lifts it up. She attempts to look out, but thankfully, it’s too dark, and hopefully, we’ve been loud enough that Luca will keep out of sight.
“Get away from the window. You don’t know what’s out there.”
“What are you worried about?” She frowns, looking over her shoulder at my corner.
Think, think, think.
“It could be a rabid raccoon.”
“A rabid...raccoon?” She laughs, letting go of the window and allowing it to swing shut. “Are you worried about me?”
“Just worried about who will let me out of here when you go crazy with rabies.”
“I think it was eradicated a while ago.”
“I’m not willing to take any chances, Killer.” I wink.
She heads back toward me, forgetting the tapping for now. I breathe a sigh of relief as she pads over to me barefoot. She must be getting chilly now; the concrete floor is cold on my feet.
She checks the time on her smartwatch and says, “Shit, I’d better get to bed. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
She picks up my plate from dinner and starts to head upstairs.
“Sleep well, Olivia.”
“You too, Austin.” Her sweet voice rings out as I adjust my hard-on.
Luca wastes no time before comically poking his head through the window. Like a sketch from an eighties movie where the kid is sneaking into his girlfriend’s bedroom, and he wants to check if the coast is clear. But thank god, I don’t have to worry about Luca trying to get in my pants.
“And now it makes sense,” he whispers.
“Shh. The door isn’t even fucking locked yet,” I hiss.
“ You too, Austin ,” he mimics her voice with scary accuracy.
“Fuck off, Luca.”
He laughs. “Alright, alright. I’ll take the phone and the pick with me. Or would you rather I hang out for a bit? I’ve been waiting for ages; I thought she’d never shut up.” “Hey, don’t fucking talk about her like that,” I warn.
He slides into the basement, his small frame easily fitting through the tiny window. It’s always been to his advantage. Some would be a little self-conscious if they were his height, but Luca takes it in his stride. His tiny, tiny stride.
He jumps down to a squat position and hops back up, holding his hands out in surrender.
“Okay, so now I know why you’re here, what’s your plan?” “Fuck, I don’t know, man. I realize this is a little out of character.”
He shrugs, looking through all the old gym equipment she has stored on the shelves.
“If I were to tell you that I thought it was more strange that you stalked her at a café for two years and didn’t make a move, would you believe me?”
He fucking knows about that? Dammit. I thought I’d been more careful.
I press my lips in a line and breathe slowly through my nose.
“That’s my private time, Ireland.”
“Oooh, you called me by my last name. You are pissed.” He laughs.
“Give me the fucking pick.”
“I thought you would have done it yourself by now. You’re losing your touch.”
I work quickly on the lock, and within thirty seconds, the chain is off me. My shoulders roll back in relief. I’ll be able to sleep without a crick in my back tonight, and then I’ll slip them back on when she comes down in the morning.
“Let’s get out of here then.”
“No, man, I’m not done here. I told you. I’ll be back at the end of the week.”
He rolls his head back, looking to god knows who for assistance. “What’s your endgame?”
If he’d asked me this yesterday, I wouldn’t have had an answer.
Hell, if he’d asked me this morning, I still wouldn’t have known.
But after tonight, the way she practically purred when I grabbed her throat, the sweet way she curled her legs underneath her when she told me all about her childhood, the way she snuck glances down my body and grabbed my dick the first chance she got.
Yeah, I have no doubt. Olivia Daniels is fucking mine.
“My endgame is becoming the biggest producer in the Pacific Northwest. I want our products everywhere. I want to be so big, so legit, so loved that my father doesn’t stand a fucking chance at taking us down. The rest is none of your goddamn business.”
He smirks, looking up toward the staircase. “Sure thing, boss.”
Luca meanders back over to the window, hauling himself up as I roll my shoulders a few more times. I could do a little workout now to stretch off my limbs.
“Oh, Austin.” Luca’s head pokes back through the impossibly small window. “You might want to know that she didn’t lock the door.”
He grins manically before disappearing into the night.
I don’t think; I just move. Creeping up the wooden stairs, hugging the walls so I avoid any loose floorboards.
I reach for the handle, and my mouth waters in anticipation.
Although it’s not locked, she might have an alarm triggered.
Or she may have security cameras set up around the house.
Given that she is committing the bigger crime here, I’d assume she wouldn’t want the evidence.
I risk it and twist the handle, the door creaking open.
My heart thunders in my chest at such a rate that I’m surprised I haven’t woken her yet.
I’d done this a hundred times, snuck into houses in the middle of the night. But my aim was to get caught those times; I wanted my victims to know I was there. But Olivia isn't one of my victims, and I'm not ready for her to catch me just yet.
I move around the house, noting where to find the basement door in case I need to quickly make my way back. The house isn’t new by any standards; it looks to have original floorboards and wallpaper that is starting to peel at the corners, although, in the dark, it is hard to tell.
The left of the basement door leads toward the kitchen and backdoor. To the right, the hallway weaves into the living room. I move stealthily, the moonlight guiding my way and helping me envisage Olivia’s day-to-day.
Her yoga mat and a ring light are tucked in the corner against a plain white wall that I recognize from her videos.
The couch against the other wall is worn in.
It looks soft and homely. It’s clear to see Olivia hasn’t decorated this room.
Presumably, she hasn’t changed much around the house since her parents died.
I look at the coffee table and see a notebook and a laptop. Firing it up, there’s no password so I start to snoop. I log into her email, reading through bills and a spreadsheet of a monthly budget for the home.
She has lists upon lists that I can go through, but it’s the notepad that draws my attention. I pick it up, the pages hiss between my thumb and finger as I flick through, picking a page at random to read. I quickly realize it’s a journal.
Danny got home at four a.m. last night, covered in mud again.
I don’t know what to do. I keep trying to ask mom and dad for a sign that I’m doing a good job with him but the silence is overwhelming.
I used to still feel their presence but it’s fading now.
I don’t know what I can do to bring him back home where I can keep an eye on him.
I feel like I’m reaching a crossroads where I either do something drastic, or I let him go. And I’m not ready to give up on him.
Fuck me.
I flick to the most recent entry, my pulse quickening.