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It’s a bit like cat and mouse, not showing my whole hand but throwing out the challenge to see if she accepts. And then pulling her this way and that, subtly closer to my reach with every move so that I can snare her and hold her close.
She growls, her voice hard, “What I know is that you have people following me. I know that you have an apartment by Encore. I know that you watch me sometimes and have security guys from work watch me too, usually Logan, but other people too. I know that I walked up to two big-ass motherfuckers thinking they were going to save me tonight, only to discover that they’re just my new neighbors. What else is there?”
It’s obvious she suspects that there is more and has likely even been looking for other signs of my shadowy observations. I stay silent and she adds more.
“A few times, I saw Logan down in the parking lot and waved, figuring he was seeing someone from the building. There’s a cute girl who lives up on seven that I could see as his type. I figured he’d wave back, but he didn’t, just kept his head buried in his phone.”
A small giggle jiggles her chest, and I wonder what’s funny about Logan and his phone. “I thought, for a busy guy, he seemed to sulk around me silently a lot.”
I remind myself to both thank Logan and to advise him to work on his tailing skills. He’s seen more of Allie than anyone else on my crew and more than once could have taken advantage. Thankfully, Logan is who he is and minds his business better than most lifelong men in my crew. It’s too bad he doesn’t want to be a permanent part of my team because he’d be an excellent asset, but I’ll utilize him while he’s available to me.
More important than my thoughts of Logan are that Allie didn’t mention anything beyond the surveillance. She doesn’t know about the apartment upstairs. I war with myself about telling her, but in the end, I can’t imagine not being able to check in on her, so I stay mum about it for now, knowing it’ll rightly be another log on the fire if she ever finds out.
“I’m impressed that you even caught what you did. It means you’re observant of your surroundings and staying safe. Good girl.”
The compliment comes naturally, but she beams at the praise for a split-second, or maybe it’s the phrasing. I store that away in my mind for later and continue.
“You sure you want to know everything? If I remember right, you were pretty freaked out by what you learned last time you got a glimpse behind my curtain.”
It’s a polite way of reminding her just how ugly my world is. I’ve tried so damn hard to protect her from it, from me, but I just can’t stay away any longer, even as I give her one last out to stop this madness.
“Tell me. I want to trust you. I know that’s insane because of your job, but you’ve never given me a real reason not to trust you. Unless you lie to me right now. I’m going to give you a chance because you’ve earned it with me.”
I take a deep breath and lay it out. She doesn’t react when I confirm that I have a guy watch her at the studio and follow her to the club and home every day. However, when I tell her about the people watching her apartment, she colors.
“Dominick, what if I’d had someone over?”
“You always had freedom to choose your own . . . friends, even if I would not have approved,” I force myself to admit. “I would not have liked it.”
The dangerous confession hangs between us, the possessive tone of my words unmistakable.
“Tell me why. Why do you have your men following me? Why did Logan tell Max and Dalton that I’m yours? Like I belong to you,” Allie says, and I can hear it in her voice. She’s upset with me, but at the same time, she likes that I feel the way I do about her. She wants to be claimed, but only by someone who deserves it.
I’m not an emotional man. I’m a cold bastard who typically sees every angle of the game board and can strategize my way out of something unpleasant or into something desirable at will. But I’m not sure how to answer Allie’s question without scaring the shit out of her.
I think she expects it’ll be some light, superficial answer that she can romanticize, but this is not a fairy tale and I’m damn sure not some sweet prince.
I’m the Bastard King.
The honest truth is obsessive and possessive, even more than her own assumptions about the line she thinks I’ve crossed, and I know the edge I’m walking is fine.
