Losing Her (Lost and Found Book 1)

by K. S. Marshall

  “I needed to breathe. My family, they’re pretty high profile. My entire life has been in the spotlight. We have a family public relations guy, for Christ sake. And it just gets old. Being told what to do, what to wear, where to go, who to talk to. I could only date certain people and have certain friends. It was drilled into me a long time ago that everything I did was a direct reflection on my family, and in our family, you do what’s best for the whole. That’s not living.”

  Hearing it from her point of view made my heart ache. She was a prisoner in her own home and I was, willingly and knowingly, contributing to her sentence. That made me feel like an even bigger jerk. Here she was trusting me with her biggest secret and I was lying to her about why I was in her life at all. I sucked down more coffee, trying to quell my growing guilt.

  Her expression turned wistful, “Being out here the last few weeks has made me feel more alive than ever before.”

  “Do you miss your family?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat.

  “I do. I’ve never been terribly close to anyone, but I do get lonely here. Thank God for Rosa, though. She has enough personality to keep me on my toes,” her voice growing affectionate.

  I chuckled, “Rosa is quite the character.”

  “She is,” she laughed.

  Our food was brought out and set in front of us in a hurried fashion. Barely any words were exchanged before the waitress sped off to her next task. Grabbing my fork and knife, I eyed my food greedily, as did Alina. We shared an excited grin before digging into our plates.

  After a few bites full of silence, she reached out and palmed my knee.

  My pulse quickened at her touch.

  “Thank you Derrick.”

  “For?”

  “For being so nice and trustworthy. I feel like I can trust you with anything. You have that quality about you. I just wanted you to know I appreciate you for that.”

  I felt like all the wind had been taken out of my lungs. This was wrong. One hundred percent wrong. I was the biggest piece of shit for allowing this to happen. She shouldn’t trust me at all. I didn’t want to break her faith in humanity. She was too pure, too perfect, and too genuine for all of this. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat before responding.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Our conversation turned light hearted and fun while we finished our breakfast, but I couldn’t quit feeling bad about how messed up all of this was. The more she opened up and let her guard down with me, the more guilty I felt.

  I was fucked either way.

  NINE | Derrick

  I could still taste her on my lips as I drove back to my condo.

  Dropping her off had been hard but necessary. I stalked to my office and flopped into the chair, angry with myself. The combination of being into someone I couldn't have and the guilt I felt for leading her on the way I was had me wrecked.

  Three days. It’d been three fucking days since I’d met Alina and I was already losing my mind over her.

  Mindlessly, I clicked on my screen bringing up the surveillance software. The recordings had started the moment we started moving around this morning. I hit play to check the quality of the sound.

  My voice rang out loud and clear on the first floor. I was on the phone talking to Jason while Alina slept upstairs. Even though my voice was barely above a whisper, the quality of the audio was top notch. The bedroom microphone flashed a notification of an unplayed recording and I hesitated for a moment before pressing play.

  Yes, it was her bedroom, but it had been the two of us in there. I wasn’t violating her privacy by playing something I’d been privy to in the

  first place. I listened as our talking turned to kissing, surprised at how audible our intimacy had been. My cock thickened as I heard her panting for me. When a deep, husky voice called for her kiss, I barely recognized the voice as my own. It’d been so long since anyone had tapped into that side of me. Since I’d dropped my guard and responded physically. I didn’t know how to process it.

  Hurriedly, I ended the recording. My guilt racketing up a few notches.

  I left my office and went to my bedroom to change into something more comfortable. I needed to breathe. I needed some perspective. And more importantly, I needed to burn all of the pent up sexual frustration I had over her.

  My body had remained untouched for over a year now. And I planned on keeping it that way. I made a promise that I wouldn’t allow myself to relax until I’d taken care of my personal business, and I wasn’t going to break my personal promise or my professionalism by sleeping with someone who was part of my investigation.

  I pulled on a pair of black joggers and padded back out the living room. Maintaining my celibacy status had required me to find something else to occupy my time, so I’d taken an interest in video gaming. I played a few of the regular shooting games that were popular, but I found that Forza Motorsport was more my style. I liked to design virtual race cars and race them around different parts of the world. Plus, it stopped me from thinking with my smaller head.

  I was driving my customized Honda s2000 around a difficult track, completely focused on pressing the correct buttons to beat my last lap time when I heard a female singing voice playing from my office.

  I paused the game, walking the distance to the room.

  It was Alina. Her bedroom microphone was picking up the song she was singing. My eyes scanned the computer, watching the sound

  waves ping in real time. Her voice was lovely. Soft, sweet and, like everything beautiful about her, effortless. It was some pop song about parties in the USA that I’d heard somewhere before. The music accompanied her in the background.

  Hearing her voice, but not seeing her, made me desperate to put eyes on her. Only, at this moment, it wasn’t the private investigator side talking. I didn’t want to admit it, but I missed her. It wasn’t a deep feeling I had to search for— it was right there on the surface, begging for attention. She consumed so much of me already I couldn’t help but miss her.

  My fingers drummed lightly over the mouse, the arrow poised over the button that would activate the video screens, enabling me to see her. Five solid heartbeats went by before I clicked. A new window opened and Alina was dancing to the side of her bed in underwear and sky high stiletto heels.

  My chest surged with affection. My stomach tightened with desire. Fuck, she was beautiful. I couldn’t get over how gorgeous she was. In the last few days, I’d seen Alina stripped bare of her pretentious upbringing. I’d seen her raw and open and vulnerable, nearly every time I laid eyes on her, and she was breathtaking every single time.

  She picked up a short, sequined rose gold dress and held it against her as she twirled around. Her hair pulled up in a knot on top of her head and her eyes were painted in a dark and smokey fashion. I wanted to jump through the screen and pull her to me just to muss her up a little bit more. I watched, hungrily, as she stepped into the dress and pulled it over her hips and torso. It fit like a glove.

  And I was jealous as fuck.

  Jealous of the fabric that clung tightly to every angle and curve of her body. Jealous of every man and woman who would get to feast their eyes on her wherever she was going. Jealous that I couldn’t fuck

  her right then and there. My cock jumped as if to nod in agreement.

  What I wouldn’t give to take Alina in every way possible.

  But I had to wait.

  And the reminder of that came flying back from my

  subconscious into the forefront of my life in the form of an email notification pinged on the corner of the computer.

  The address was unfamiliar. The subject read: “Come Home Baby”. Frowning, I clicked on the rectangular box.

  To: derrick.williams@icloud.com

  From: foreveryourprincess_143@yahoo.com

  Subject: Come Home Baby

  Message:

  You can’t run from me forever. Do you have my money yet?

  Blood pounded in my ears. I could hear it
surging through my veins, building force as anger coursed through me. I picked up a gold and black paperweight and threw it across the room where it smashed loudly into the wall, leaving a good sized dent and hole in the drywall.

  The sound of the weight hitting the wall satisfied nothing, so I stalked out of the office heading straight for the kitchen.

  My brain shut off and my body moved in autopilot mode.

  Grabbing a rocks glass, I poured a healthy measure of whiskey, downing it in two gulps before pouring another. It was hot and felt like flames lapping at my esophagus as it twisted its way into my body. The second drink was like dousing lighter fluid on the fire. I paused after pouring a third, my chest heaving with angry draws of air.

  Fuck.

  I turned towards the freezer, yanking it open and grabbed a handful of ice cubes. Tossing them in the glass and swirling it on the countertop for a few more breaths before gulping down the now much cooler drink.

  It still felt like fire.

  Although with the way I felt, it was going to be the only thing that cooled me down. I’d done way too much and put so much distance between us that I’d fooled myself into thinking I was free from her. I should have known though. That fucking bitch would never quit.

  The bottle of Jack Daniels taunted me. Just like that psychotic bitch who wouldn’t leave me alone. Daring me to keep drinking and keep giving in. I pushed it away, letting my body sag onto a barstool, my other hand still holding onto the glass. I closed my eyes, trying desperately to quell my feelings.

  Anger. Disappointment. Fear. Hurt. Guilt.

  It all came swirling back into stark focus with that one simple email. A lifetime worth of regrets played like a movie highlight reel behind my eyes. The more I saw, the more I remembered. The more I remembered, the more my blood boiled. Until eventually, I boiled over.

  A raw sound erupted out of me as I drew my arm back and threw the glass from my hand. The shattering of glass against the wall startled me. My body rose and fell laboriously as I tried to suck in air.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I heard her laugh from the other room. Alina’s lighthearted laughter cleared the darkness just long enough for me to look up in the direction of the office.

  My bare feet moved my body from the kitchen across the condo to the office door, stepping precariously over the shattered glass. In front of my computer, I scanned the screen looking for video, but the video screen had gone to black. She had left her house.

  The sound of laughter was coming from the audio recordings. I heard her laughing again and then Rosa’s animated voice talking nearby. I clicked the microphone notification that blinked in the corner of the screen and watched the spiking sound waves.

  “This dress cariña…ow! OW!” Rosa exclaimed.

  Alina giggled in response. I imagined her spinning around, giving Rosa and whomever else was in the vicinity a better look at her.

  Jealousy flamed in my chest.

  “I’ve got to go mingle around a bit, but I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

  I frowned listening to the recording. It sounded like she was at a party. Music playing and people milling around. Alina greeting strangers and politely excusing herself every few moments. I thought of her wandering around a room, looking the way she did, on her own and I hated it. I wanted her here in my bed or with her in her bed. Shit— I didn’t even need to be in bed with her. I just wanted her with me.

  “Hey beautiful,” a male voice crooned. The microphone picking up his voice louder than the rest of the party patrons.

  “Oh, um…hi,” Alina replied, sounding flustered.

  I didn’t like how her voice sounded and the mental picture it created. I imagined a sleazy looking guy noticing Alina in that dress, pushing up on her and invading her space. The whiskey making me bold enough to think of it as my space because I wanted her that much in this moment.

  “You alone, sweetheart?” the slimy guy asked.

  “Well… kind of,” Alina stammered.

  “Aw, well I can’t just let a beautiful woman such as you enjoy this party all alone. You’re too fine to be sitting by yourself. And that dress…”

  he finished with a moan of approval.

  The rush of anger came roaring back to life. I heard nothing else after that because I was flying from the office to where my keys were lying on the kitchen counter. I didn’t think twice as I jogged down the front steps of my building and across the sidewalk to where my truck sat parked. And not a single fuck was given as the engine roared to life —

  matching my own inner beast— and I peeled off down the road.

  Because I had a GPS tracker in her phone, I knew exactly where she would be. It was on the other side of town, but because the town was so small it didn’t take me more than twenty minutes to get there. I flew up to the front of the building, barely braking in time, and hopped out leaving the truck idling there. The teenage boys huddled around each other at the valet station jumped up. No doubt worried at getting caught— the unmistakable smell of marijuana in the air.

  “You need valet, sir?”

  “Yeah,” I answered gruffly, not bothering to look over my shoulder as I tossed them the keys, walking into the venue.

  It was a converted warehouse that looked nondescript from the outside, but once I passed through the door, it transformed into a chic party venue. White fabrics draped from the unfinished ceiling coming together in the center of the room where an oversized gold chandelier hung as a centerpiece. Rows of strategically placed stringed lights suspended from the industrial rafters helped illuminate the space.

  Models stood poised on pedestals next to large scale drawings of the garments they wore. The place looked like a museum for fashion with people milling around the space, admiring and talking about the pieces in hushed tones, while a DJ in the corner played music over the sound system.

  I scanned the full room. There were only a few dozen people in attendance. I stepped further into the party, noting that I was wearing black joggers and a matching black t-shirt while everyone else was

  donning high fashion threads. A few people turned to eye me up and down as I pushed past them, but I didn’t care. I was only there to find Alina.

  I spotted the rose gold sequined dress in the far corner of the room in front of the bar. She was leaning against the bar, laughing at something the guy next to her had said. Though, next to her wasn’t the right phrase. She was practically on top of him. One arm encircled her waist, pulling her close to him. Her dress was just barely covering her ass from the way he was lifting it by holding onto her so tightly. Her arms were around his neck and her head fell onto his shoulder as she laughed hard.

  Nothing he could have said would be that funny.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d assume these two were together. Their body language shouted that from all the way across the room. But I knew Alina didn’t know this man. He was too eager to have his way with her.

  He had short, thick, wavy brown hair that he'd artfully styled into seemingly effortless waves and a smooth freshly shaven face that revealed his tanned skin. His gray suit jacket was haphazardly thrown over the chair next to them. His tie looked slack and mussed, as if he’d been tangled up with her. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear making her eyes go wide, another giggle tumbling from her mouth.

  Although my eyes were trained on her, I saw his hand wave over her glass and the liquid bubbled momentarily before fizzing out. My fury, that had been contained up until that moment, burst through the seams.

  I charged over to them, knocking a few people out of my way, and gripped her by the wrist.

  “Ouch!” she shouted, turning to face me. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her eyes on my face to discern who I was.

  “Let’s go,” I ground out, pulling her away from the guy.

  “Whoa man, what the fuck?” he exclaimed.

  At the same time, she registered my face, “D-Derrick? What are you doing here?”

 
“I’m getting you out of here. Let’s go,” I repeated. My voice was harsh and demanding, but I couldn’t stop it from sounding that way.

  “Wha-why?” she stammered, swaying on her heels for a second before I tightened my grip on her upper arm, steadying her.

  “What the fuck, guy? Who do you think you are?” the guy asked, standing to his feet. He was just a few inches shorter than me and he didn’t seem like the fighting type, so it must’ve been the liquor talking.

  I turned my attention to him, pulling her behind me, “I’m the guy who’s going to kick your ass if you don’t sit back down. I saw what you did to her drink.”

  My response seemed to do the trick. He fell back into his chair and I whirled around, taking Alina with me. We flew out of the party, her heels clicking madly against the concrete floor. I had half a mind to pick her up and carry her over my shoulder, but I eyed the short dress she wore and thought better of it.