Chapter
Sixteen
Fox
Everything is a ticking time bomb. I have fifteen days left of my meds and that’s with me cutting to half doses. Kitten has been putting up walls around Fox, like she’s trying to protect herself from getting hurt. Because she’s right—this will end badly. I have no doubt. And when I’m with her, sans mask, she makes me feel good and human. I didn’t think I could ever feel like that again.
I keep waiting for the guilt to come. Or worse—the day I have to tell Amber the truth. Not just about Fox, but about the other things in my life.
Last night Fox had to cancel with Kitten. There was a mob math crisis. The Four Families had to move some money around before any of the feds caught wind of it. They have a mole on the inside and they got a tip that someone was looking into their money. It all happened so fast, I forgot about her until late. But I told her we could meet up today at seven p.m. I got a thumbs up, but no text this morning.
It’s seven fifteen and she’s not here. She’s always on time. I head back to Dimitri’s office and take out my phone. No messages.
Me: Where are you?
I pace, picking up Dimitri’s paperweights and moving them around his desk. She’s never been late before. Anxiety pounds like a drum line in my mind.
Me: Are you having car trouble?
I watch three videos about cats knocking shit off tables and check my phone again. Maybe the message didn’t go through because my screen was full.
Nothing.
Me: It’s 7:25. I’m getting worried.
I am—the anxiety is building. What the hell could be keeping her? Work? Is she hurt? Is something wrong? What if her ex came back? Old feelings and dormant dread start to creep in as all my intrusive thoughts battle for attention and domination. I break club policy and find her address.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m in a cab with a duffel bag in my hand. Shit. Why did I even bring this? I text her from Ryan’s phone. If she answers, I’ll know at least she’s alive. But nothing. With each passing road sign new fears sink in. She’s dead. She’s in a pool of her own blood. She’ll be cold.
No. Not again. I can’t do it again.
Waves of nausea hit me as the cab stops in front of her building. There’s no outside lock or doorman, which pisses me off as well. Has she no sense of self-preservation? I bound up four flights of stairs, pulling the mask down over my face beforeI reach her door. I pound until my fist hurts. “Kitten? Are you there?”
Fuck. Should I call the police? Or better yet, Dimitri. He could break down a door if need be.
The door swings open and she’s standing there, arms crossed in a bathrobe and glowering at me. She’s pissed at me. Well, two can play that game.
“What the fuck?” I say, matching her non-verbal energy while leaning on her door frame, trying to catch my breath. She’s okay. That’s what matters.
Her lips are tight, eyes narrow. “What?” She’s so icy I could freeze on the spot.
“Why are you here? We had a time set up.” I sound harsher than I wanted to, but my confusion and frustration are flooding out the cracked dam of my mind.
She squares up her shoulders, filling the door frame with her tiny body, not giving me an inch. “I didn’t want to go.”
My hands flex and my jaw tightens. “You couldn’t text? Didn’t you see all of mine?” Should I show her my phone as evidence?
She exhales sharply, and oh my God, did she roll her eyes at me? She follows it up with a dismissive wave. “I was in the shower and drying my hair.”
Take a deep breath. She’s not a brat, this isn’t her kink. So it must be something else. “Kitten.” I give her a warning and she glaces at the floor.
“I didn’t want to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a liar.”
Fuck. Does she know about Ryan? Does she know the truth?
