“He sold heroin,” I said quietly. “And yeah, he was kind of awful.”
“And what about Jared?” Julia pressed on, and I had the sinking feeling she was trying to make me feel self-conscious. “He was probably the worst. He hit on everything with two legs! And some things with one,” she crowed, laughing. I snorted.
“He was pretty bad,” I said. Wanting to change the subject, I looked at her dead on. “How’s Hailey? Did she get into pre-school?”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Don’t even start on that right now,” she said softly. “It’s been a complete nightmare. Derek’s parents aren’t even speaking to me right now. They think it’s my fault she got waitlisted for all of the good places.”
“Wow,” I said softly. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry, Jules.”
She shook her head and drank at least half of her beer in one gulp. “It’s whatever,” she told me. “Tell me about your new guy. What’s he like?”
“Well he’s not really my boyfriend yet,” I told her, blushing. “But he’s tall, has longish blond hair, and really gorgeous blue eyes.” Julia nodded in approval. “And tattoos everywhere,” I added. “He’s really muscular.”
“Have you ridden on his bike?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It was fun. He’s a cool guy. He’s very…protective.”
“Oh yeah?” Julia raised one of her perfect eyebrows. “You sure he’s not just a controlling dickwad?”
I laughed shortly. “No,” I said. “He’s not really like that. At least, I don’t think he is. Not yet.”
“Where does he work?”
“He’s a security guard for Tinder’s, that jewelry store,” I said, looking away. In my chest, my heart started thudding like a gong. “I mean, it’s not fantastic, but it’s stable, at least.”
“That’s the key for now,” Julia said. “You just need to make sure he isn’t looking to depend on you. You can’t take care of yourself and someone else, Sarah. Promise me that you know that.”
“Of course,” I said, almost offended that she’d have to ask. “I know. Trust me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, I’m just feeling protective today. So what else is he like? Does he party? Is he wild?”
I shook my head. “He’s intense, mostly. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who wants to fuck off all the time, though. But he’s so gorgeous, Julia, oh my god. I’ve never dated anyone half as good looking as he is. Blake’s incredible.”
“And you’re sure he’s not going to land you in jail?”
“Of course not,” I said, offended. At the mention of jail, Roger flashed through my mind. I shuddered when I realized that Blake was finally about to confront him. It was finally happening. Even though Blake had been overconfident when he’d left my apartment, I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t think it was likely that he’d be able to talk Roger into doing anything, much less cooperating with him. And giving up the photos? Ugh.
“What’s wrong?” Julia squinted at me. “You look really upset right now.”
“I’m fine,” I told her. “It’s stupid.” The image of Roger holding my naked pictures flashed through my mind. “It’s just…” I sighed. “I had to tell him something that I didn’t really want to share,” I said, looking at the floor. Julia reached out and rubbed me on the shoulder. “And I wish I hadn’t told him, but I couldn’t help it. He would have found out anyway.”
Julia frowned. “What are you talking about? The fact that you’ve slept around a little bit?”
I blushed. “No,” I said slowly. “And shut up! It hasn’t been that much.” Julia eyed me and we both burst out laughing. I knew that I’d had my fair share of sloppy one-night stands. They’d been fun at the time, but I stopped because I always woke up wanting more. It was like no matter how validated I felt during the moment, it wasn’t enough to keep me feeling good after the guy left. A lot of times, they called the next day. And I never called them back. I wanted to be with someone who loved me, who appreciated me, who wasn’t just mailing it in and getting a girlfriend because he was lonely. But before I’d met Blake, I’d been starting to despair over my choices.
“Then what?” Julia asked after our peals of giggles had subsided. “Tell me!”
I playfully punched her in the arm. “Remember I told you about that modeling I did when I was younger?”
Julia’s face paled. “Oh my god,” she said slowly. “The naked pictures. He knows about them!”
I shook my head. “He doesn’t now, but he will,” I said grimly. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Julia rolled her eyes and ruffled my red hair. “It’ll be fine, Sar,” she said. “We’re adults. No one cares about shit like that anymore,” she added. “I mean, you kind of have to let this one go.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Want to get a pizza or something?”
Julia nodded. “I’m famished. I was hoping you’d ask.”
The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. We ordered dinner and it was the first time in days that I’d eaten enough to really feel full. Before Blake had left, he’d given me some cash. It wasn’t much, but he promised he’d be able to get money from Roger whenever they met up. My mouth went dry whenever I realized how quickly that was happening. It was scary to think of Roger showing up and berating me.
But Blake would take care of me. He’d promised, right?
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, I was a bundle of nerves. I hadn’t slept well after Julia left; I kept having nightmares that Roger was chasing me. I’d heard that in dreams, the person chasing you is never supposed to catch up. But in my dream, Roger grabbed me from behind and tackled me to the ground, hard. It hurt and I cried out, and he kept me pinning on the hard ground while he taunted me about the pictures.
“Blake is going to love these,” dream Roger said, shoving my face down onto the ground. The more I resisted, the harder he pushed, and soon I stopped struggling. When he tugged down my pants, I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over.
But then I woke up in a sweaty tangle of sheets. My breath was coming hard and my heart was slamming against my ribcage. I reached for Blake and then felt a panic rise in my throat when I realized he wasn’t there. Outside of my apartment, someone was yelling in the hallway. Even though it made me feel like a little kid, I pulled the sheet over my head and closed my eyes to the world.
I didn’t get much sleep for the rest of the night. When it was time to get up, I looked in the mirror and saw perfect dark circles underneath my eyes. Ugh, I thought. Blake’s really going to think you look great now, huh?
The hours ticked slowly by and I was dying to go to Starbucks. By ten in the morning, it was torture. I made myself clean my entire apartment from top to bottom in case he came over later. The anticipation of what he would do to my body was driving me wild, and as I mopped the swept the floor furiously, I felt myself getting a little turned on. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Blake’s hands running down my body, turning me on, playing me like a fine instrument that only he could handle. I had to suppress a moan at the memory of his lips between my legs, licking and sucking at my clit until I thought I would explode with pleasure.
When I cleaned the kitchen, I saw us bent over the table, fucking like wild animals. I blushed when I remembered how he’d shoved his hand against my mouth and ordered me to be quiet; it somehow made the tense moment all the more arousing. Blake had an effect on my body that I’d never quite felt before. I was afraid that I’d never feel it again, except with him. It was crazy to feel like I was going through some kind of awakening—after all, I was in my thirties—but at the same time, that would be the most accurate phrase for it. I blushed when I thought of the hungry feeling that came over me whenever Blake was around. It was too much; I was dying for him. I actually had to fight the urge to slip my hand down my panties and play with myself. The whole thing made me blush; I’d never felt driven to masturbating before from a guy. It was the kind of thing I would have laughed at in a mo
vie, but thinking of Blake made my juices run hot and wild. Licking my lips, I straightened up. Sure I might not be able to see him for hours, but when I did, I planned on looking killer.
Three hours later, I was ready to go. I’d taken a painstakingly long bath and washed and dried my hair, then put it in loose waves with a big-barreled curling iron. I wore some light purple eyeshadow to make my green eyes pop, with big fake lashes and minimal lip gloss. When I surveyed myself in the mirror, I felt I looked pretty good. I was clearly exhausted, but that couldn’t be helped. When you were waiting for your almost-boyfriend to have a meeting with the douche that blackmailed you, well, you were probably going to look pretty tense.
To my dismay, the Starbucks was empty when I arrived. I peeked around and looked at every table, snuck a glance at the face of every mindless patron who was typing on a laptop, and looking dissatisfied. The barista smiled at me. He let his eyes linger on my breasts and for once I didn’t mind. I knew that I probably had the fuck-me aura lingering, and I intended to take full advantage of it. Well, with Blake, anyway.
“What can I get for you today?” He gave me a charming smile.
“I’ll take a grande skim cappuccino,” I said with a smile. “And a croissant, and one of those panini with brie and fig.”
He flashed a dazzlingly white smile at me; he looked like he could have been an unknown actor. “Sure thing,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Sarah,” I told him, nervously looking around. Every time the door chimed, I whipped my head back to see if it was Blake. So far, an old couple and a group of teenagers had come in, but no Blake.
“I’ll bring this to you when you’re ready,” the barista said with a smirk. “I can tell you’re waiting for someone.”
I blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be that obvious,” I said with a giggle. “I’ll sit over here.”
“He’s a lucky guy, whoever he is,” the barista said. He winked at me and I felt my insides melt.
I picked a table with two armchairs near the window. The armchairs were overstuffed and they sat squat and low to the ground. They looked inviting, and I sank eagerly into one, scanning the parking lot with my eyes. I didn’t see any trace of Blake’s bike. Closing my eyes, I tried to listen for the loud sound of it in the distance, but I couldn’t hear anything. Damn. Where is he?
At quarter past one, I was starting to get a little nervous. I hadn’t taken a book with me, but I borrowed a magazine from the communal table. I read the whole thing; it had articles like “How to impress your man with a low-fat dessert!” and “Keep his eyes on you during bikini season!” It was kind of sad, I thought. Were women so insecure that they had to read this stuff just to feel better? Or did they feel fine about themselves before magazines started making them doubt their personal lives?
I read the magazine from cover to cover, and then slowly I flipped through it again. My coffee had gotten cold a long time ago, and I nibbled at the edge of my sandwich with distaste. It smelled amazing, but I didn’t feel hungry anymore. Blake was more than half an hour late, and my stomach was starting to churn into knots.
It had been a beautiful day when I’d left my apartment and come downtown, but it was starting to look like it could rain. I pressed my face to the glass and looked out, the only thing I could see clearly was a black car slowly pulling away. When I looked at my reflection in the window of the Starbucks, I realized that all of the other patrons were new. Since I’d arrived, the old couple had left, along with the teenagers, another group of their friends, and a loud pair of women who were talking angrily about the school system. Every now and then, the barista shot me a sympathetic look.
At two o’clock, he walked over with a cup of water and another coffee. “This is on the house,” he said, giving me a smile. “I hope everything is all right with your friend.”
“I’m sure it is,” I said quickly. When I realized that he was just trying to be nice, I blushed. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried. When we were supposed to meet an hour ago, it’s kind of hard not to worry.”
The barista nodded. “I get that,” he said carefully. “Listen, I’m going off in half an hour. Can I bring you anything? Or do you need a ride anywhere after I’m done working?”
I shook my head. “I’m okay, thanks,” I said softly. “That means a lot.”
He nodded and walked back behind the bar to serve customers. I kept staring out the window. The dark clouds rolled in; they looked like an oil painting in the gallery downtown. I always noticed it when I drove past. The gallery was in the same shopping center as Tinder’s.
Thinking about Tinder’s made me feel even worse. What if something had happened? What if Roger had done something to Blake? My stomach churned over and over and I closed my eyes and uttered a silent prayer. Please keep him safe, I prayed. Please make sure that nothing bad happens to Blake.
Just as I was getting ready to call the police, frantic with worry, the door chimed and Blake swaggered in. He shot me a guilty grin and then ambled up to the counter to order a coffee. The nice barista had left an hour ago and been replaced by a punk girl with one side of her head shaved. She gave Blake the eye up and down his body but he didn’t notice. As glad as I was to see him, I felt anger boil in my stomach. Just what made him think it was okay to show up two hours late?
“Hi,” Blake said. He sat down in the armchair opposite from me. I looked away.
“Hi,” I said sourly. “What do you want?”
“Calm down,” Blake said. “I’m sorry. I would have called if I knew it was going to take me that long. Am I really that late?”
I rolled my eyes. “Two hours,” I said, pointing to the clock on my phone. “Two hours, Blake. You couldn’t have tried a little harder than that?”
Blake grimaced. “I told you, I was doing something important,” he said. “And I have great news. You wanna hear it?”
I narrowed my eyes. “This sounds too good to be true,” I told him flatly. “I was worried that you were dead or captured or something, asshole! You could have called me!”
Blake shrugged. “I said I’m sorry,” he said defensively. “Do you want me to go? Or do you actually want to sit down and have this conversation with me?”
“We can talk,” I said in the same sour voice as before. “What do you want to tell me?”
Blake leaned across the table. He shook a few drops from his longish hair and grinned at me like a boy. His blue eyes sparkled and shone. “It’s great,” he said quietly. “I took care of him. He was so scared, Sarah. It was like he didn’t imagine that I could be so fucking intimidating!”
I narrowed my eyes. “It was that easy?” I said skeptically. “I’m not sure I believe that. He made such a show of acting like he wasn’t afraid of you before.”
“Well, I guess he was bluffing,” Blake crowed. “I mean, he was totally easy to take care of. I just got in his face and told him that he’d be sorry if he didn’t stop messing with you. I told him the kinds of things that my club does to people like him, and I think he got the picture.”
“And he didn’t put up a fight?” I wrinkled my nose. “Are you sure?”
Blake laughed. “Stop being so negative,” he said, reaching over and grabbing my hand. A bolt of warm arousal shot through me. “I promise, it’s over and done with. I took care of it, Sarah. Just like I promised.”
I bit my lip. “Okay,” I said dubiously. “Did he delete the pictures from his phone? Did he give you the hard copies?”
Blake smirked. “He deleted everything right in front of me,” he said. “And I watched as he ripped up the envelope with the pictures in it. Then I stuck everything in the fire. It’s gone. You don’t have to worry about that anymore, I promise.”
I looked up at him. Part of me didn’t believe him, but the other part of me wanted it to be over as soon as it possibly could. “Okay,” I said finally. “So now what happens?”
Blake grinned at me. “Now you let me take you to dinner. Where do you wanna go?
” He looked me up and down. “You look great, by the way. Let’s go someplace really nice.”
I bit my lip. “Are you sure this is taken care of? I mean, I trust you, Blake. I really do. But part of me is worried that Roger has something else up his sleeve.”
Blake put his arm around me and steered me out of the Starbucks. “Trust me,” he said, throwing his head back with a chortle. “He’s taken care of. Babe, he had no idea what was happening when I showed up and threatened him. It was like he couldn’t comprehend that he was being an asshole.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, that’s not hard to imagine, knowing him,” I muttered. “He was always so determined to prove everyone wrong. It makes sense that he felt invincible for whatever reason.”
Thief: Devil's Own MC Page 9