“Open the door!” The guy shouts, his voice furious.
I watch her, wondering what this new development means. She opens her eyes and leans closer to me, whether or not she means to I don’t know, but she seems to be leaning on me for comfort.
It bothers me that she’s less scared of me than she is of this new guy. Why? What does he do to her that would make her afraid of him?
Why do I suddenly feel so protective of this girl I’ve had less than kind intentions toward? I’d resigned myself to hurting her should I need to, but the thought of someone else hurting her infuriates me to the point it’s hard to see straight.
I don’t know what this asshole did to make her cower like this, but I’d like to choke him. And not the same way I was threatening to choke her back at her place. Fuck if that didn’t make her hot. And not just her, I’m still suffering a nearly painful erection.
All of that aside, the last thing I need is more attention on this train wreck of a situation. If this guy makes a stink, that might bring cops. Cops bring a whole host of questions and boys in blue that I don’t want to have to answer to. About anything.
As it is, I still have no idea what Jane here knows about Cami. Does she know I coerced her into coming home with me? That I didn’t give her a choice but to come talk to me? That I was intimidating her, threatening her, holding her hostage until she gave me the information I needed?
No, I can’t risk Jane talking to the police.
Who knows what she might tell them, what dirt she might have gathered with her ear to the wall in the room next door.
As the guy pounds on the door again, I feel fury surging through my veins.
“Who is he?” I ask, my voice tight with anger. She looks up at me, shock in her eyes as her full lips open a tiny bit.
“Um, well,” she whispers as the guy continues banging on the door and shouting next door, “He’s my boyfriend.”
I back off and lean against the opposite counter while crossing my arms. She stammers at me. “I mean, ex-boyfriend. Well, I didn’t actually break up with him. I just, uh… ditched him.” She’s looking at me like I’ve got to hate her and think she’s a piece of shit.
But I don’t give a fuck. I know guys who don’t take no for an answer. I think she should own up, put on her big girl panties and tell him it’s over rather than try to get around it. Not talking to him might make him eventually get the hint, but it’s a shitty way to do things.
Not that I have any place judging anyone’s way of living their life. It’s not like I’m some shining fucking example of an incredible, upstanding citizen. But still, something in the way she closes up like a flower at the end of the night leaves me certain there’s more to this situation.
There’s always more to the story. Everyone has their reasons for the things they do. What hers are, I can only imagine, but I have to accept they’re valid in her mind. Even if I don’t agree with them exactly.
“I need him gone,” I tell her. Her eyes widen, but she’s not reading the total wrong idea in my words. To make sure she knows what I mean, I follow it up with, “How do I get rid of him?” What better way to really find out how she feels about this guy than to offer to kill him?
Chapter 11
Jane
“Um, well… He’s my boyfriend,” I say.
Instantly Connor backs off and crosses his arms like he’s trying to close me out of every bit of his life. I need him to know I’m not that girl. I’m not just some chick ready to cheat on my boyfriend, that there are reasons. Maybe not good enough reasons, but reasons all the same.
My voice breaks as I try to explain my position. But the words sound so weak. “I mean, ex-boyfriend. Well, I didn’t actually break up with him. I just, uh… ditched him.” Oh, my god. He’s got to think I’m some kind of stupid whore.
I look into his eyes a moment, but can’t read his expression. I lower my head and stare at my legs, wishing I could disappear. Here I am in my short shorts, my tank top without a bra, my slutty attire. I must look like a total winner to this guy. I mean, he doesn’t know that I’m dressed like this to beat the heat, or that I had no plans of someone barging in my room on me.
He's probably thinking about how hard I was coming onto him. Because I know I was. This sexy man is way more man than I’ve ever known, and he’s so damn sexy I can’t think straight. But he’s not in my head. He’s out there. Out where my thoughts mean nothing and words are as empty as most people’s heads.
Well, at least I got some hot kisses. Not a total disaster, right?
“I need him gone,” he says, and I stare him dead in the eyes, trying to figure out what he’s saying. Is he offering to kill my boyfriend? That’s a hell of a lot easier than breaking up with him…
…if I was a total psycho.
Which I’m not.
“How do I get rid of him?” he asks, the tone making the threat much more clear this time.
Yep, my man meat dream guy is offering to kill my boyfriend. How sweet.
It’s funny how everything seems to be coming full circle like this. I mean, I ditched everyone and faked a whole lot of stuff to even get some time alone. I figured dad would notice something was wrong first, not my idiot boyfriend. He must be super pissed.
But as I study Connor, I realize that I’ve had a better time these last few hours than I have in the last twenty two years. It’s a bit sad, actually. Sure, he might just be waiting to kill me or whatever, but I’ve never felt so alive. I’ve never been in so much danger. I’ve never met anyone like him. And it’s terrifying and awesome all at once, to know he’s a man willing to take care of anything, his way, without worries.
I shake my head, wanting to convey that I don’t want him to kill my boyfriend. I just want him gone. Not dead gone, just turn around walk away gone.
Besides, I don’t want Zac to cause problems with Connor. If he draws too much attention to this, who knows what will happen? If the cops come, there will be plenty of uncomfortable moments. Dad will find out where I am. Then I’ll be in for an assload of new issues.
Fuck. I don’t want that to happen.
We’ve got to get rid of Zac. But how?
I listen and realize he’s gone quiet, as if he’s finally given up. Or like he’s assuming I’m out and that he can wait for me to get back and harass me. Why is he here?
I’m going to have to break up with him. There’s no way around it.
Connor moves back toward me, his face inches form my ear as he leans in. I smell his cologne; thick, spicy, all male like wet metal after a hot rain. It’s sexy as hell and I can’t hear over the thud of my heart.
Until he whispers, then every bit of my body feels like it’s humming and every sense is dedicated to him. “You’re going to stay right here.” His breath tickles my ear and I shiver, unable to stop the flood of sensations coursing through me.
God, I’ll do whatever he wants. Anything.
He pulls back and I see him hesitate. I can’t help myself. I throw my arms around his shoulders and cling to him. I’ve never had someone willing to step up to bat for me like this. Even dad would throw money at problems. But risk himself? Hell, risk losing face? Not a fucking chance.
But this guy, this stranger is willing to help me take care of a problem I’ve been struggling with. It’s insane. And awesome. And he’s still terrifying. I can feel his muscles rippling as he flexes and relaxes, as if worried I’m about to plunge a knife into his back.
I back off and press my forehead to his. He’s tightly controlled, I can see his jaw is tense like he’s clenching it. I want to tell him I’m sorry for kissing him when I have a boyfriend. It’s not so cut and dry as I’m a cheater, though.
The knocking starts again and I jolt, terror flowing through me. He never left, did he? Was he just sitting out there, waiting for me to open the door so he could corner me?
I see Connor’s eyes harden, a dark light shining from them and I realize I’m afraid of the wrong person. Zac isn’t
the one I should be terrified of. I know what he’ll do, what he’s capable of.
This man is still a stranger. I don’t know what he’s like at his worst. I bet that this, right now, this tightly controlled, though clearly on edge man is him at his best. That thought is just frightening as fuck. What happens when that fragile thread of control snaps?
His eyes lock on me and I see he’s reading my thoughts in my expression. And he seems to agree. He’s the one I should be afraid of.
He’s the monster.
Chapter 12
Connor
I lean in to whisper in her ear, wanting to be very sure she’s paying attention to me. “You’re going to stay right here.” A stray lock of hair moves with my breath and I see it brush her neck slightly.
She shivers and I know she heard me, that she knows I’m serious, that she will do as I tell her.
Excellent. That will come in handy later.
I pull back, ready to look her in the eyes to make sure I’m right about her mindset. I need to know she won’t slip out that door before I have a chance to find out what she knows.
Suddenly, she’s hugging me. She’s holding onto me like she’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping her head above water.
Everything in me locks up. Everything I am wants to push her down, to fuck her right here on this kitchen counter with her ex-boyfriend banging on the next door. Because fuck him. He’s an idiot for ever letting her slip through his fingers.
She pulls back and rests her forehead against mine. I sense she wants to kiss me, but I can see the guilt of cheating eating away at her even if she’s not admitting it. And I can see her apology, too. I sense there’s still more to the whole situation, though I don’t know what it is.
Which makes me more edgy.
I don’t like walking into the unknown. What if this guy is ex-military? What if he’s some badass biker son of a bitch who’s going to knife me if he finds out I’m with his woman?
She flinches as the knocking starts up again. There’s very real fear in her eyes and I want to kill the guy who put that fear there. I don’t care what he did, or how he scared her, I want to kill him.
When I pull back, she’s looking me in the eyes. Her gaze dances back and forth between mine, a light of realization glowing and flaring like a camera flash in slow motion.
I know that look. It’s dawning on her that she doesn’t know a damn thing about me. And the precious little she might know is likely more terrifying than whatever she’s currently running from. I’m more terrifying than her man. More terrifying than her worst enemy. More terrifying than her scariest demon.
And she’s looking at me as if she finally sees me for what I am; a monster.
Good.
With more than a splash of bitterness in my soul, I head toward the front door. When I look back, her head is lowered again, her pretty hair spilling into her lap as she takes on such a defeated posture I almost feel bad for her.
Poor girl clearly can’t get a break.
Her taste in men is desperately flawed.
I leave the room and close the door quietly behind me. No need to startle her. I turn to face Jane’s door. Maybe I can reason with the guy. Get him to walk away. That would be easier than rearranging his face for him.
Whatever I do, I need to quiet the racket the dude is making.
But as soon as I see the guy, I hate him even more. His bright yellow pants are so tight I bet the head of his penis – if he in fact has a penis – must look like it’s screaming. He’s so skinny I swear he would blow away if a strong enough wind kicked up.
And what the fuck is with those shoes? They’re an odd shade of maroon with what looks like handwritten verses, like lyrics or poetry.
I bet it’s poetry.
Bloody hell, I bet it’s his poetry.
He’s wearing two shirts. One is a button down blue and white plaid. And it clashes with his pants. So much so that I kind of want to hit him just for subjecting my eyes to it.
The shirt under that hugs his skinny frame and is hunter green with a faded logo – likely a factory faded to look old logo – with an ambiguous name that could be a coffee shop, or a hair place, or maybe a dive bar. Some place that I’m sure he discovered first. You know, he made it a cool hang out, so now it’s popular, but only because he shone his light on it and made everyone aware of how awesome it is.
To complete the I’m a total douchebag look, he’s got an oversized beanie in a dirty shade of grey on his head. It probably keeps his carefully styled and windswept blond locks in check. With his eyes mostly covered, I wonder how he sees. He reminds me of one of those shaggy white dogs.
I hate everything about him.
He catches sight of me and his attitude changes. Suddenly, the petulant little boy becomes a tough man. How cute. He thinks he’s all that.
Does he not know that beard looks like he shaved his pubic hair and glued it to his face in odd, uneven patches?
“I’m just looking for my girl. She’s here.” He flips his head even though his hair doesn’t move at all. Not even a millimeter. That shits got to be glued down. Holy fuck.
“The girl that was here left,” I say and he tries to look cool.
He nods at me. “Thanks, man. You sure she’s gone gone, though? Maybe she went out to lunch.”
Gone gone? You can’t just add the same word twice to make it mean something else. What the fuck planet is this asshole from? Isn’t that something teenaged girls say to each other? Oh, I like him, but I don’t like him like him.
“Pretty sure,” I say, unwilling to engage with this idiot. Talking to him is killing my brain cells, I’m sure. So I walk away.
Chapter 13
Jane
“He’s gone.”
I lift my head and look at Connor. As if reading my worry, he’s quick to reassure me. “I told him you left.”
I want to thank him, but the words feel stuck in my throat, like I’m going to choke on them unless I focus. “I’d planned to break up with him. I really did. He’s just so… impossible to talk to.” How do I explain the special brand of crazy Zac is? He’s not… abusive per se, he doesn’t hit me or anything like that, but he’s… well, he makes me uncomfortable.
But Connor doesn’t seem to be listening.
Next door, though the wall, I hear my phone ring. Well, I’m glad Zac left. If he heard that, he’d know for sure that I wasn’t gone like Connor said. And nothing says I’m guilty of whatever Zac is obsessing over now like the hot guy next door lying for me.
That wouldn’t fucking look good at all.
I look over at Connor, who’s staring me down like he knows some deep dark secret about me. Something I don’t want him to know. I open my mouth to ask him what, but there’s a knock at the front door.
My phone rings again next door and I swallow, feeling like there’s a rock in my throat. Connor’s on his feet in a moment, his whole body blocking the door as he opens it a crack. On the other side, I hear Zac talking and my heart leaps up in my throat. He’s here. Right there. If Connor moves a bit to the side, he’ll see me.
But something tells me Connor won’t let anything bad happen to me.
Unless he’s the one doing the bad things.
At that unbelievably hot realization, I feel heat skittering through my belly. Damn. Somehow, everything about Connor just wrecks me.
“Are you sure she left?” Zac asks Connor, who shrugs.
“I think so.” Connor’s nonchalant, but I know Zac is getting on his nerves. I see it in the set of his shoulders, the tension in his smooth voice, the way he’s leaning into the door more and more with every passing second as if working his intimidation game on Zac.
Zac is an idiot. He’d see a guy Connor’s size and still go on about how he could take him, since all gym rats can’t actually fight. Zac trained in Tai Chi for six months, so he’s totally a master of martial arts.
I stifle the urge to roll my eyes.
Connor closes the
door and I hear Zac go next door and start knocking again. I hear him and my heart sinks. I was right.
“I know you’re in there, Jane. I tracked your cell phone to this location.” Zac sounds tired, like he’s sick of this game of cat and mouse he drags me through; however unwilling I might be. Like I said, he’s not abusive, he just makes me uncomfortable.
I’ve never cheated on him – save the kisses I shared with Connor – but he’s always been certain I would. He’s got my dad worked up and sure I’ll marry him. And for some stupid reason, dad seems to like him. I don’t know how Zac got to him, but dad is even pressuring me to go ahead and follow my dream of marrying Zac.
Which is not my dream. It’s the whole reason I’m running. I needed a break, a chance to breathe. I need to figure out how to dump Zac without my dad going ballistic. I need to figure out how to talk myself out of this corner I’ve been backed into.
As Connor turns to face me, I see the hardness in his eyes, the anger, and I know I’m caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. Connor is absolutely the more dangerous of the two.
What is wrong with the men in my life? They can never let me go. Dad won’t let me grow up. He refuses to let me live my life and is insistent I marry Zac even though I’ve yet to actually choose that option. Zac is against the thought of breaking up with me. And I have a feeling it all boils down to money.
Zac wants it.
Dad likely thinks he can manipulate the situation somehow.
I would gladly give up all the money if it meant no one would fuck with me again.
As I study Connor, I see his anger growing and growing and growing. I don’t know what to do. Zac isn’t the kind to give up. He’ll fucking follow me to the ends of the Earth, obviously. He’d follow me to hell if he thought he could keep me prisoner. He’d follow me to an early grave if he thought he could control me. He’d haunt my ass if it meant that he’d be able to keep tabs on me.
Billionaire Bash: The Complete Steele Series Page 53