Her face is hidden from me, and all the noises I’m desperate to hear are muffled by a pillow. After everything we’ve been through, I want to see her face. I pull out, and a satisfying sound of protest leaves her perfect lips. I flip her over and hold her legs wide as I slide my cock back into her. With her eyes on mine, I thrust in and out of her. Her tits bounce, and her mouth forms a sexy O. I bring her feet up to my chest and work all the angles I can find to go deeper. I use the strength of my body to move harder.
I want nothing more than to be firmly connected with her in this animalistic way. Need and urgency shoot through me with each push in. Want and devotion pierce me with each pull out. Her moans awaken me. The touch of her skin energizes me. Her eyes on me bring me life.
I move my hands up her body, cupping her breasts and twisting her nipples between my fingers until she cries out. Paisley pushes back for each thrust I throw at her, and we’re coming together at a pace brutal enough to bruise. I can’t get enough of her.
Paisley squirms beneath me, and I know she’s close. She’s panting, and she can no longer keep her eyes open. Her arms reach out over her head, and her body arches off the bed. I bring my fingers to her clit, my fingers doing quick rotations, as I watch her face and read her body language, waiting. She moans incoherent noises and tries to string together sentences, but they’re nonsensical. She’s lost in her pleasure, which is exactly where I want to be with her. The grip from Paisley’s contracting pussy sends me over the edge while I continue to pump in and out of her. Grunts and groans tumble out of my mouth, and I lose my own control. I come so hard, it makes me a little dizzy.
With my breathing staggered, I lower my head to rest on Paisley’s chest. The motion of her breathing lulls me into an even more satisfied state. Feeling her beneath me, I kiss her skin and take a second to be with her. I’m thankful she came back to me. Thankful I decided to go with my gut in this situation. Thankful I didn’t screw this up.
“Get up. I have to go.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I raise my head and glare at her. “Where are you going?”
She pushes against me, and even though I’m without words, I don’t retreat.
“I came for my stuff. I have somewhere I need to be, and you’re going to make me late.”
“Are you kidding me? Paisley, I’m still fucking inside you. What just happened between us?” I move my hips in an effort to hammer home my point.
“It was sex, Burke. Just sex. Haven’t you heard of breakup sex? I haven’t changed my mind about us.”
My anger forces me away from her. As soon as she has enough room to move, she slides out from between me and the mattress and stands.
How could I have misjudged this situation so wrong? I thought her eagerness for me was a sign of forgiveness, but apparently, Paisley thought it was her way of saying good-bye.
“Paisley, I’m asking you, don’t go. Please. We can figure this out together. I need you.”
“We can’t because I don’t want to. I don’t want you.”
She’s already dressed, her shoes dangling from her fingertips. She doesn’t bother to put them back on before she grabs her bag and walks out of my life for the second time that week. She doesn’t look back once. It’s as if this meant nothing to her.
Maybe it didn’t.
Paisley
I remain rooted to the floor outside Burke’s front door for longer than I care to admit, locked in a war between my head and heart. I can’t take it back. I want him, but I can’t have him. Not if I’m going to survive this with my sense of self intact. Eventually, my head wins, and I take the first step away from his home. I have to get to work.
Getting my job back at the diner was easy enough when I explained everything. My account seemed like a tall tale, but there was enough proof to get me back waiting tables at the same little restaurant I had been at before this all happened. Before Burke walked into my life and before Braelyn fed me to the wolves.
I stand at the bus stop near Burke’s house with my whole life’s worth of belongings in a bag as I wait to head back to my side of town. I am so mad at myself that it’s hard to stay still. I had a plan. I was supposed to get in, get my stuff, and get out, all while Burke wasn’t at home. The second Burke opened the door, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Having sex with Burke was a huge mistake. I need my independence. I need to figure out who I am and where I came from. I don’t want to have Burke do those things for me. My path would probably be a lot simpler with him by my side, but I can’t take the easy route here. Things have never come easy to me, and I’ll survive this, too. Finally, the bus pulls up, and I board with a heavy heart.
Getting my job may have been easy, but returning to my old apartment wasn’t. In fact, it wasn’t an option at all. Another little present from Braelyn. When I left Burke at the hospital, I returned to my old place. There was an eviction notice on the door. Braelyn hadn’t paid the rent after I left. The month of the unpaid bill coupled with the scene the police had made the day Teagan and I went missing left a sour taste in my old landlord’s mouth. There was no convincing him to let me stay. Burke hadn’t lied about the place being empty either. Braelyn or whoever had cleared the place out took all my stuff right along with Braelyn’s. I have nothing.
I’ve been staying in a hotel for the last week, one of those places that often has people living out of the rooms and lets you pay by the week. It’s so much worse than the one I stayed in after Brae kicked me out. My neighbors are drug addicts and prostitutes. And the hotel manager’s lingering stares make my anxiety rise to all new levels. These extra stresses aren’t what I need. I was kidnapped last week, Braelyn is still missing, and the person behind all this is still unknown.
The bus pulls up to my stop in front of the diner, and I jump off. I have three whole minutes until I have to clock in. Once inside, I clean myself up a little, store my personal items behind the counter, and tie my apron for another day of work.
The afternoon shift here is always slow. Today is no different. I take care of a few customers, but I mainly keep busy cleaning and doing odd jobs, staying clear of the man in booth six. He was here yesterday, and while there isn’t anything particularly unusual about him, he gives me the creeps. He’s too quiet . . . too polite. He tries too hard not to be noticed as he sits there, sipping coffee. I think it’s because everything gives me the creeps right now, but I still don’t stop by his table more than I absolutely have to.
“Were you really kidnapped?”
Carly. I don’t want to play Twenty Questions with this girl today.
“Something like that.” I press start on the coffee machine and move to the dish pit to clean glasses, hoping that she will take the hint and leave me alone.
She doesn’t.
“Are you, like, still in danger? Am I in danger when I’m here with you? Who did you piss off?” Left. Right. Left. She keeps the questions going, and all I can do is roll my eyes. She’s not worried about me at all. She’s worried about her income dropping if something happens inside the diner. “I was here the day you were taken. Burke came in here, looking for you. What’s the deal with you two?”
“There’s no deal between us, Carly. I’m not in the mood for all these questions. Can we just go back to work?”
She huffs, and the action blows the stray hairs hanging around her face outside her ponytail. I grab the coffee pot and head to the corner to refill the skulking guy’s mug. I’d rather take my chances with him over Carly. He doesn’t look up while I refill his mug, which is fine by me. If he had looked up, I probably would have asked him why he was wearing his sunglasses inside. He’s probably in his late twenties to early thirties, and a razor hasn’t touched the hair on his face for at least a few days. The look works for him. His black boots, dark jeans, and a black T-shirt all scream, Don’t fuck with me. His shaggy but neatly styled hair seems too put together for the tough-guy persona he exudes. His skin is on the fairer side, and from what I can tell, h
e’s relatively free of tattoos. He clears his throat. I’ve been caught inspecting him, and I quickly scurry away. I don’t want to give the impression I am checking him out because I am not. I was simply satisfying the paranoia that has taken over my life recently.
The rest of the shift goes by slow. No one else comes into the diner, and I try like hell to avoid Carly. The man in the corner stays for the entirety of my shift, just like yesterday. I try to wait him out. For whatever reason—probably my own paranoia—I don’t want to leave before he does. I try to tell myself that he is harmless, just another guy sitting in a booth. My brain won’t listen to me. Someone has been watching my every move. There are pictures to prove it, and I don’t think whoever it is has stopped. I hate it. I’ve been on edge and on constant alert. Every loud noise makes me jump. Every quiet moment has me looking over my shoulder. Every stranger on the street is a possible suspect.
I wish this life for no one.
The sun is setting by the time I make it back to my hotel room, and being outside in this area after dark makes my stomach roll with anxiety. So, I hurry inside. I turn on the television for some distraction, but the sound goes in one ear and out the other. I take a hot shower to try to relax, but I continuously poke my head outside the curtain in fear that there is someone just on the other side. I pace the floor between the door and the end of the room.
I’m a mess.
I toss and turn most of the night. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in almost a week. When I do manage to sleep, I wake more exhausted than I was before. I haven’t had a nightmare since before I was taken from Burke’s house, which is both a small blessing and an even bigger burden. More than ever, when I’m hoping for clues, they completely disappear, maybe because I’m only sleeping twenty or so minutes at a time. I drift in and out of sleep for most of the night. More than once, I lose the fight against my emotions and cry. I’m scared, and I miss Burke. I hate that I’m this upset over leaving him. I change my mind twenty-seven times in only a few hours about whether I’m making the right choices for myself where he’s concerned.
I’ve been alone my whole life, but for the first time ever, I’m lonely.
Burke
It doesn’t take long for the police security detail to disappear, and I’m glad. They were keeping tabs on us to supposedly protect Teagan, but it felt more like they were watching to try to catch us in a lie. Whatever the reason, they’re gone now. Of course, the case is still being investigated, but they will have to work it without our help. I don’t expect it to take long before they shove it into some file cabinet for cold cases.
My list of things to do today is long and made even more difficult because either Kai or I have to be at the house at all times. Neither one of us even considers leaving Teagan alone as an option. Plus, since Kai is so good with gadgets, he doesn’t really need to go anywhere to follow some of the leads. All he needs is the Internet. I, however, am useless at home. A caged lion. I can’t make Teagan feel better. I can’t be on the trail from home.
A door to my left opens, and a twenty-something girl peers out. She is tiny and has her hair pulled back in a messy braid.
“Mr. Hensley, Mr. Spencer will see you now.”
Her voice is so low, I wouldn’t have heard her if I hadn’t been eagerly waiting.
I rise and follow her back to another door, which she holds open for me. I thank her and enter the room.
J. Spencer stands from his spot behind his desk and moves to shake my hand. “Good to see you, Mr. Hensley. It’s nice to put a face to the voice on the phone. I believe we have a matter of a little bill to settle, and then we can get down to work.”
I hand him an envelope full of cash because nothing says I’m a criminal in need of some assistance like an envelope stuffed with large bills. He leafs through the contents and then puts it in a drawer to his left.
“Call me Burke. Where do we start?”
“All right, Burke. Start from the beginning. I need you to tell me every detail you can think of, no matter how small. I need to know every person you’ve come into contact with and every toe you may have stepped on.”
That makes me uncomfortable. Kai and I don’t exactly live life by the book. Divulging my illegal lifestyle has always been something we knew not to do, and this guy is telling me he wants me to lay all my cards on the table. The room is quiet while I think about my options. My vision bounces from shelf to shelf, avoiding J. Spencer’s eyes.
“Transparency isn’t something I’m exactly comfortable with.”
“I don’t work for the law. I don’t care about anything, except finding the information I’m being paid to look for. Anything you tell me is confidential and will never leave this room. In order for me to do my best work, then I need all the facts. Not just the above-board ones.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. Besides, what other choice do I really have? I spend the next couple of hours telling him everything. Every deal. Every customer. Every stepped on toe. Hell, I even tell him about the dude who beat up his girlfriend in my kitchen. I tell him about having Braelyn’s phone and how Kai came up empty with that lead. The phone number was to a burner, bought in cash, and was already disconnected by the time we looked into it. The only other piece of information we got from the phone was a name, Sonnelion, which was probably an alias. I’ve never spoken so much in my life—at least, not to one person in one sitting. He writes notes as I speak and interrupts here and there with questions or for clarification or further detail. His face remains free of judgment during all subjects we discuss, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelash when I tell him about Anthony or Thomas. I wonder how many people have come in here and told him they’ve killed someone.
“One more thing.”
“What is it?”
“Kai’s father, Ken Grant, is in prison. My sister overheard the guy talking at the farmhouse about his release. He is currently serving a life sentence, but Kai got a notice the other day, letting him know that there is new evidence and that his father’s case is being appealed very soon.”
“Hmm, that does make sense. I’d already done some digging from the little we discussed over the phone. Parker, the guy you visited in jail, is Ken’s cellmate. It seems I should point my investigation his way. It’s our best lead.”
“I’m not sure how, but I think whatever is happening also has something to do with my girl—my, um . . . Paisley’s past. There was something painted on the wall in the room they kept her in that really only she would know about. You’ll have to ask her for more detail on it though.”
“I will ask your, um, Paisley about it. You can be sure of it.”
I don’t like the fucking grin he shoots my way, but I ignore it.
He asks to speak with Kai, Teagan, and Paisley, too, but I don’t promise him anything. My secrets are mine to give away. If they want to come in and lay it out for him, they can. I’m not going to force them.
I hold out my hand for him to shake, and he grips mine.
“I’ll be in touch with any updates, Burke.”
“Thank you.”
Seeing Paisley today has just been added to my list. I can’t say I’m not happy about the excuse to pay her a visit. However, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist the urge to actually throw her over my shoulder and take her home with me if I have to see the inside of the awful hotel I know she’s staying at.
This place is a fucking dump, and the longer I have to wait outside for her to get back, the angrier I get. Life is a whirlwind of unknowns and possible danger, and Paisley’s living in a place Braelyn wouldn’t have even met clients. I will burn this place to the ground before I let her stay here another night. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and read what’s waiting for me from the mysterious blocked number.
Blocked Number: Did your fancy PI figure it all out for you? Do you have your answers? Do you know who I am?
Well, at least I know we are still being watched.
Burke: Quit being a little
bitch, and let’s handle this face-to-face.
A city bus pulls up a half block away, and Paisley emerges. Her long hair is pulled up off her face, which isn’t usual for her, and she isn’t wearing any makeup, which isn’t completely out of the norm for her. She’s beautiful, just as she always has been, but something is still different, less confident or more disheartened. As opposed to the brave, daring woman I have come to know, I can only see the signs of exhaustion and fear.
Her eyes are shifting from side to side, and she cuts wide berths around people and parked cars. I’m glad she’s being vigilant, but it kills me she’s doing this on her own. Or at least she thinks she’s on her own. Her hands are full with a thick folder full of papers in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She continues walking, getting closer to my car, unaware of my presence, despite her high alert.
I miss her.
I’m not too stubborn to admit it. I miss the way I feel when she’s near me, too.
Better. Stronger. Alive.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Blocked Number: Paisley looks good today, doesn’t she?
Motherfucker! I scan the area, but I don’t see a single person other than Paisley. Even the teenager who got off the bus after her has disappeared. So, I hold my middle finger up in the air. I’m being watched, obviously. I don’t have time for this game right now. I don’t want to text the pansy bitch behind this. I want to look him in the eyes when I take my first swing at him.
Vengeance in Bloom (The Love Unauthorized Series Book 2) Page 6