Billionaire Dragon

by Jada Cox

  It might have been the heat of the moment that had her speaking to me like that, but maybe she actually meant it. After she had been with me the other night, when she kicked me out of her house after we had had such an amazing time, I was beginning to think that maybe she really didn’t like me. Maybe she’d just used me or had had some fantasy she wanted enacted with me that was now done.

  Either way, something in her had changed. This angry person who was so dismissive of me was not the Violet I had gotten to know over the past few weeks. I didn’t know who this person was.

  And yet, despite that, I had such strong feelings for her, such intense, protective urges. The Dragon inside of me was pacing and pulsing within me, growing hot with need to be around her. How could I be so wrong about someone? Or perhaps I wasn't wrong. Maybe I was just meant to be with someone who just wasn't a very nice person. Could I choose again? Could I go against fate?

  “Don’t be surprised when you see me tailing you on your way home tonight,” I said before I left the office. It didn’t matter what I thought of her right now, at this moment. My Dragon disagreed anyway. She was still my person, my mate, or so my Dragon was urging me to believe. This was just a flare-up.

  I sat in my car for the rest of the afternoon, waiting for someone to get hold of me, to tell me what the next move was or what I was supposed to be doing. I half-expected to find a call from Don saying that I was no longer assigned to Violet.

  But the call never came. And no directions ever came.

  It was a long, hot afternoon to spend in the car, especially with my restless mind mulling over and replaying the last 48 hours with her. None of it seemed to make any sense. One thing I did know, though, was that as long as she was in that building, she was safe. I had no qualms waiting in the parking lot until she finished work, got into her own car, and went home. From there, I would follow her.

  As it turned out, she took off early. That wasn’t like her. Violet Hill did not show up late, nor did she leave early. I must have really upset her earlier. Violet was the kind of person who would work until the job was done or until she was about ready to drop to sleep on the spot.

  I followed her home, both of us arriving in Rock Creek just before the sun was setting in the sky.

  Spring had a very interesting false comfort to it. It had the warmth of summer, yet the evening hours of winter. I often forgot that the sun set so early in spring, especially when it rose so early in the morning. This was a side effect of the lifestyle I had been living until coming to Rock Creek. I wasn’t used to being in such hot places this time of the year. Usually, we would hold up in a cabin in a ski resort, let ourselves get snowed in, and party hard until the mountain was bald before we moved on. There were always girls around, tourists who were only at the resort for a couple of days, willing to spend at least one of their nights with us.

  As the snow thawed, we would leave, moving on to the next place. It was nice, being able to roll with the seasons, knowing that there was a good time to be had wherever we landed.

  I parked the car up along the curb in front of Violet’s house and watched her go inside, wondering if she had seen me behind her, if she had cared, or if I had only pissed her off further. I wished I had thought to get to her house before she did, so that I could check out the interior before she went in, to make sure no one or nothing was there.

  Instead, as she went into the house, I let myself out of the car and wandered around the house, looking everywhere I could to be absolutely sure that there were no signs of breaking and entering. If she was as good as she said she was, and as good as I believed she was, then she would have done this herself inside.

  I spent 45 minutes examining the outside of her house, hoping that I wouldn't disturb her as I did so. I couldn't imagine how unnerving it might be to hear or see someone outside your window without expecting it.

  Once I was satisfied, I returned to my car and nestled in for the night, ready to relax for what would hopefully be uneventful.

  Except my mind wouldn’t settle. I couldn’t stop replaying the day’s fight, her obstinance, or even how she had reacted to the idea of the reality of paranormal creatures. That was really what had upset me. If she was so willing to reject even the idea of the possibility that a humanoid-type person might not actually be human, then what chance did I have?

  Maybe we can’t be together, I thought. Maybe my Dragon is wrong about this. Maybe I’m wrong. After all, how could I be with someone who would deny my true self? My Dragon was just as much a part of me as my human side was. To say no to one was to say no to the other.

  Never mind that if I ever did reveal my Dragon side, she would likely call me dangerous to boot. It wasn’t just that she refused to believe that paranormal creatures could possibly exist, but that if she did encounter one, or me, she would turn the other direction.

  What was I doing with this girl? What had I gotten myself into?

  Chapter 12 - Violet

  It wasn’t often that I went to bed angry anymore. I had a lot of practices around myself to stop myself from being angry all the time. I used to be angry quite a bit when I lived in Alaska, when I was constantly being undermined by my brothers. Since coming to Atlanta, I had tried to let all of that go. The worst part of going to bed angry was that you didn't sleep well, you woke up still angry, or, worse, both.

  That night, I didn't sleep well. However, I didn't wake up nearly as angry as I’d been when I’d gone to bed. In an effort to try and start the day off on the right foot, I tried to recognize that as a bonus.

  I went into the kitchen and turned the kettle on, pulled down some green tea from the cupboard, and brought down my favorite mug: a white unicorn mug that said “Bad-Ass Bitch” on the side in glittery letters.

  I went to the sink and reached forward to pull the shade up over the sink, only to notice the familiar car still outside of my house. And there was a tired, wilted-looking body inside it as well.

  I couldn't help but smile, just a little bit. As the kettle boiled to a whistle, I decide that maybe I should try and extend the olive branch, just this once.

  I quickly went into my bedroom and pulled a robe around my shoulders before unlocking the front door and wandering down the walkway. Malcolm was in the car, dozing slightly against the window as I knocked against it. He jumped to alertness and then turn the car on to roll down the window.

  “Good morning,” I said. “You were here all night?”

  “I guess so,” he said, stretching awkwardly in his car.

  “Um, do you want to come in for some breakfast?”

  He nodded sleepily. “I could eat.”

  “Well, I’m out here in my robe, so just let yourself in when you’re ready.” I turned and left the car, hopping up the pavement to my house barefoot. I quickly went into my bedroom and threw on some sweats and a t-shirt, anything that wasn’t my pajamas or the robe.

  I looked in my cupboards and fridge and found that all I had were eggs and bread. My options were either French toast or eggs on toast. Given the amount of bread I had and how much I knew Malcolm ate, I figured the latter would go the furthest. I pulled out my big frying pan and began cracking eggs into a bowl. I had eight and, remembering how much Malcolm ate at the Thai restaurant, I decided I should probably use all of them. I began whipping them up, pouring some milk in there and some salt and a little bit of cheese, before I put a few slices of toast into the toaster. Malcolm finally came into the kitchen, still looking just as asleep as he had been in the car.

  “You don’t sleep very well in the car, do you?” I asked.

  “Do you?”

  I giggled. “I suppose I don’t. I don’t think any one does.”

  “Children,” Malcolm said. “Children do, I hear.”

  “They don’t count. They just run around in circles until they throw up and then collapse wherever they want and pass out. They’re kind of like drunk college kids.”

  Malcolm laughed. It was nice to hear him laugh.

/>   “I kind of felt that I owed you an apology,” I said. I turned the burner on and put the pan on to heat up before pouring the eggs in. “Plus, you can’t work on an empty stomach. And you seem to need a lot of food.”

  “It’s alright,” he said. “Though, if you ever want to apologize by using food as a medium, you are always welcome to.”

  “That is such a man thing,” I said, turning and putting a hand on my hip. “What is it they always say? The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

  “Maybe,” Malcolm laughed. “If you want to give him worms.”

  “Ew, that’s gross,” I said. I turned back to the pan and pushed the eggs around while Malcolm took a seat at the kitchen table. “Anyway, it’s not fine. You were assigned to me. And if you had talked to me that way, I probably would have had you fired.”

  “Kind of hard to fire your boss, though,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Hey, don’t get any ideas. Anyway, I’ve just been really sensitive, and one thing that will send me flying off the handle is feeling like someone’s watching over me. I don’t like being protected. I feel like I’m not trusted when people do that.”

  “I trust you,” Malcolm said quietly.

  “I don’t think you do, not in the way that I’m asking.”

  “Alright, enlighten me.”

  I sighed, turning the eggs down a little lower before I turned to face him. “Alright. When I was growing up, I had four older brothers. And because I was the youngest and the only girl, they were really protective of me. Like, ridiculously so.”

  “That’s what brothers are for.”

  “No, not like that. I come from a small town in Alaska. I was always one of the boys with them. I used to pal around with them and their friends, and I would always be able to keep up with them. Their friends had no problems with me and would always invite me to tag along. I was honestly one of the guys, unless I was trying to do something on my own. I would go out hunting with them, camping with them, and then when I became more competent, I would go out hunting and camping on my own. But it didn’t matter how much they saw me grow or how well I did on my own, they always thought I was incapable of doing anything on my own. As a result, they thought I was always in need of protection.

  “It wasn’t just looking out for your kid sister. No, this was seriously protective. From the guys I got involved with to the jobs I went after. Everything. My parents always said they were just looking after me because I was little. But once I became an adult, they worked really hard to get me to quit the idea of becoming a police officer. Eventually, I managed, around the time one of my bothers got into politics. He did a good job and got quite a bit of influence. When I went to apply to transfer into Anchorage, he actually halted the process.”

  “You’re serious?” Malcolm asked.

  I nodded. “I was never going to advance my career there. I had to get away. I applied out of state and was accepted here in Atlanta. I didn’t even tell my brothers that I was moving until I had already moved, because I didn’t want them to mess this up for me. Since then, I have always been trying to prove myself. But sometimes people still interfere. Because I'm a woman, because I'm the little sister, and nobody thinks I can do it.”

  I watched Malcolm as he digested my monologue, wondering what was going on in his head, as he chewed on the inside of his lip in thought, his brows furrowing as he studied me. What was he thinking?

  “I’m sorry you went through that,” he said.

  Was that what was on his mind? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him, but I thought better of it. There was no way that that could come out right, and I needed very much not to be confrontational with him. We were still going to have to work together, and I wanted things to be good between us, even if it was just for professionalism’s sake.

  Except I wanted more than something professionally good with him. I wanted to be neighborly good, and I was even maybe entertaining the idea of being more than friendly with him. I was still at odds with myself, not trusting that it was a good idea, but if I wanted to find out if there could be more between us, I needed to get over myself and learn to share some of my weaker points.

  “I could see how what I said yesterday would upset you,” Malcolm said. “I didn’t want to do that. I just want to make sure you’re alright. And I do trust that you know what you’re doing.”

  “Even if I only have a ten-year-old’s dream of a black belt meaning something?” I asked, meekly.

  “I believe that your black belt means something. If you put that much effort into proving yourself growing up, then I don’t think it was just for fun.”

  And then he smiled, and I felt the nervousness in my stomach dissipate. I smiled too.

  I pulled the pan off the heat and put in some more toast. I had no idea why I had a four-slice toaster. I must have dragged that thing all the way down from Alaska, but right now, it was useful. I buttered four of the ready slices and put the eggs on top before passing them to Malcolm.

  “How do you have your scrambled eggs?” I asked.

  “Have any hot sauce?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Tabasco?”

  “Fresh out.”

  “Chili flakes?”

  “That one, I think I do have,” I said, turning toward my spice rack and having a look through. I found the half-used jar, passed it to Malcolm, and watched as he proceeded to open the lid and dump all of the chili flakes all over his eggs.

  “Oh no!” I said. “Now your eggs are ruined. And I can’t make any more; this was the last of them.”

  “It’s alright,” he said. “I meant to do that. I like things really hot.”

  “Yeah, but that’s going to blow your head off,” I said. “Here, let’s try and scrape some off, and you can add them as you need them.” I went for a paper towel, but Malcolm waved me off.

  “Honestly, this is perfect. I promise.”

  I didn’t believe him. “Alright,” I said, then added sheepishly, “I also don’t have coffee. I don’t drink it, so I don’t keep it in the house. But there’s some green tea if you’re interested.”

  “I’m alright,” he said, taking a red-speckled mouthful of egg. “The heat of the chili is enough to wake me up. And I’ll get some coffee on the way into work.”

  I shrugged and dished up my own plate as the toast popped out of the toaster. I brought two of the remaining slices to Malcolm. “I know you eat a lot,” I said.

  “I’m a growing boy,” he said.

  I giggled as I sat down at the table next to him.

  “So what was your childhood like?” I asked him as I sipped my tea. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Away from here,” he said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. Apparently, he wasn’t understanding the part where I wanted more of a conversation with him.

  Come on, Detective, I scorned myself. You know how this goes. He’s hiding something from you.

  He was, I could sense it. But what?

  We finished eating mostly in silence, with only small talk coming through, and I couldn’t help but wonder how it was that he got his security experience and was a wandering biker for over a decade at his age.

  “You must have something interesting to share with me,” I goaded after a while.

  He wiped the remaining flakes off his plate with his last bite of toast and put it in his mouth, sitting up straight and putting his hands on his thighs. He smiled as he chewed, eyeing me.

  “I’ll tell you if you let me take you out on a date,” he said after he swallowed.

  I laughed. “Oh, is that the game you’re playing?”

  “That’s the game I’m playing.”

  “You’ll have to try harder than that,” I said. “The answer is still no to dating.”

  His smile never faltered as I finished my own breakfast, and he took both of our plates to the sink and began washing the dishes.
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br />   “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I’m perfectly—”

  “You cooked, I’ll wash. Those are the rules,” he said over his shoulder. “Go get ready for work. We’re going to be late.”

  “You don’t know the meaning of late,” I muttered.

  I could get used to this, I thought as I scampered into my bedroom to get my clothes and into the bathroom for a shower.

  I took off before Malcolm did, telling him he could get a couple of hours’ sleep if he wanted before he came in. He declined but did say he wanted to get a shower. It was everything I could do to convince him that yes, he should have a shower and no, I did not have to wait for him. I was a big girl. I could handle going into Atlanta on my own.

  I blasted the radio the whole way there, something I never did, and sang my heart out at the top of my lungs. I forgot how fun it was just to drive with the windows down and singing without caring if you were in tune or even if you knew the words, but just being free.

  By the time I got to the office, I parked the car and hopped out, humming Heart under my breath as I waved my keycard at the door to unlock it.

  I went straight to my desk and found the light on my phone blinking. I had a voice message.

  Listening to the voicemail, my eyes widened.

  I had a lead. More than a lead.

  I could barely contain myself when Malcolm walked into my office.

  “Today’s the day!” I sang. “We are going to blow this case wide open today, my friend.”

  “What’ve you got?”

  “Only a phone call. A very good phone call. A most excellent phone call,” I said, spinning in my chair.

  “Uh, did you have coffee or something?” Malcolm asked, looking a little concerned.

  “No, better. Rowe’s secretary Rachelle left a message saying that she overheard Rowe talking about doing a deal while he was on the phone. She said that she has the place and everything. All we have to do is show up there and catch the bastard red-handed.” I clapped my hands for emphasis.