My cock hardens. I want to be there with her, put my cock in her snarling, angry mouth. Have her give me hell while I fuck her, or slap her ass until it’s bright pink. I replay the video, needing to see her beautiful fury on full display over and over. I watch the moment she looks out the window.
It was the moment I looked up at her. When she turns around, there are tears on her cheeks that she quickly dabs away before she walks out of her apartment. The pain in my chest shouldn’t be there, but it hurts. It hurts like the hurt I felt for Ivory the day she was assaulted. There’s also rage and shame. Guilt. Love.
I can’t find my footing. Walking away from her was harder than I thought it would be. I hurt her and I hate myself for it, but more than that, I hate that she’s right. She does deserve to know.My fucking her is what caused the mayhem in her shop. Her life. She is at risk because I couldn’t control the need to possess her, to own everything about her. But giving her the truth would mean I would have to reveal my secrets to her. The fullness of what I’ve done for the last two decades. She knows about my conviction. The two bodies. But she has no idea of the true depth of my sins, of my depravity.
I pull out the paper that was wrapped around the brick that broke through her glass. I unfold it. Visceral hate burns through my chest. The threat is direct. It’s a picture of her, inside her gallery alone. The picture tells exactly what they want me to understand.They can take her at any time.
Thankfully, she hadn’t seen it. Me watching her is one thing. But to tell her that a whole gang. That a very large, deadly gang is watching her. That their leader, a psychopath even more deadly than I am, a man who doesn’t want her pleasure, only her pain, is watching her.
Another alert comes in. I watch as she gets in her car and drives away. I hold my breath when Scout pulls out behind her on the street in a nondescript sedan. I’m glad he didn’t drive his bike. There’s no telling what Camryn would have done had a bike followed her. She may have run him off the road. Her tracker shows her heading to her friend Kingsley’s place. Good. That building is more protected. It will keep her safe.For now, that insidious voice in my mind tacks on.
Manifestation - The War
In order to kill the enemy, men must be rousedto anger; that there may be advantage from defeating the enemy, they musthave their rewards.
- Sun Tzu
Chapter 66
My nerves are at an all-time high. Tomorrow, Jacinda’s show is tonight, and I need to focus. It’s been 72 hours since Stone drove out of the parking lot. After getting the windows fixed, I was able to remove the top layer of spray paint from the mural.
Overall, the gallery doesn’t look bad, considering that not too long ago, the front was boarded up and most of my walls were defaced. I was tempted to call Sophia, Dru, and Meela to come over and help me paint, but I knew they would have questions. Questions I wasn’t ready to answer yet. Like what was happening with Stone? I’d missed the last girls’ night since I was busy fucking Stone in his bed.
The subtle subtext of our last text messages are still fresh in my mind. Sophia seems to be the most aware, and she would know, since she was sneaking around with my brother for months before anyone else knew, well beforeIdid. Seems I was the last to know. I smile thinking of my friends. They would understand the chaos in my brain. We’ve all had our share of man drama, but at the same time, I don’t want to talk about the fact that whatever this was with Stone is over. I won’t be able to hide it since they are all coming to the opening tonight,and Sophia has all but promised she is going to find out what is keeping me locked up in my gallery. Kingsley is the only one who knows that I’m fucking my brother’s friend.Was fucking,I correct.
I open my phone and bite my lip, and re-read our last text messages.
Sophia: Can’t wait to see you tonight. So excited for you!
Dru: Yeah! It’s date night for Silas and me. Carla is watching Bruce, and I can’t wait to see you, too. It feels like forever.
Meela: Yeah! You’ve been MIA, and I miss you.
Sophia: Dare I ask if you’ve been busy with a man?
Dru: Or she could have been busy getting her gallery together.
Sophia: Of course she was…but she’s not working on it 24/7. There’s still time in a whole day to get some dick. And I think I know who. But don’t worry, my lips are sealed.
Meela: What do you mean?
Dru: Ooop…
My fingers hover over the message to lie and tell them there is no man, but it’s not true. There is a man, but that man who told me to essentially fuck off, and hasn’t contacted mein three days. I’ve also heard zero noise from next door, and I didn’t drop in because I have my pride, dammit. The day after the destruction of the front gallery windows, I returned and was shocked to see that a construction crew was already there, installing new windows and a new double door.
When I demanded to know who they were and who had ordered the new glass, complete with new gold leaf stenciling on the front windows, all they said was that it had been paid in full.
Stone.
The knowledge that he had the window and doors repaired eased some of the sharp edges when it came to Stone. I didn’t even have his fucking phone number to call him and curse him out or thank him. I wasn’t sure which I wanted to do more. But all the space between us reminded me that I needed to focus and not get caught up in an obsessive, secretive asshole who fucks like no other.
The doors came with a high security lock and key code. They even let me choose the code. The locks were high-tech and, from what I could tell, expensive. The glass was apparently shatterproof. It eased some of my worries.
Sighing, I put my phone back in my pocket. I leave Sophia’s subtext and hints alone. I can’t deal with it right now. Tonight I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t bring it up. Jace will be there too, and the last thing that I need is to deal with his knowing I am fucking his friend and tattoo artist every chance I get. Again, I need to get my verbs in the correct tense.Past tense, Camryn. Past. Fucking. Tense. Either way, he will know if I don’t start keeping a better poker face.
I slipped an invitation under the door of his tattoo shop, hoping that Riggs and Onyx would find it. You also wanted him to find it, too, a sneaky voice echoes in my mind. A part of me is still pissed at him, but another part wants him to see what I’ve done. My accomplishment. I don’t know if they will come witheverything that happened with their shop. The last invite was the hardest to send out, but I did it. I sent one to my father, hoping he would show up and see that I’ve done it. That my gallery is open and it looks as amazing as some of the best in NYC makes me feel triumphant.
“Where do you want us to set up the tables?”
