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Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I climb the forty-five flights, hauling with me two empty suitcases until I get to the top floor. Then I go directly into Hugh's office suite.
Since Hugh's now paranoid, he often opens his safe and stares at his money. It only took a few days before the camera captured the code, since he's old school. He laughed when I told him years ago he should switch to an electronic safe that requires a handprint.
I push my gloved fingers against the buttons, and the safe opens. I take all the cash, a set of collector Rolex watches, and his passport. I open a folder and freeze.
My pet's picture stares at me. She's younger, and the issue date states it was around her eighteenth birthday. I add it to the case, then pick up two large yellow envelopes.
I open the first one, then thumb through the documents.
It's a trail of all the money he's stolen from our client accounts and me. I've seen it before when Jones gave me his report. I toss it in with the other items. Then I open the second envelope.
A fresh burst of hatred rushes through my blood. There are details on where Blakely lived, worked, and photos of her. She's singing on a stage or carrying trays of drinks in her cheap thong and bra she wore the night she arrived at my house. In one, she's getting out of a car, and I recognize the surroundings as the lot near Cheeks.
I force myself to stay focused, toss it in the suitcase, and zip both bags.
I roll them through the office, then carry them down the stairs, exiting the same way I entered. I put everything into the trunk of my Porsche. I drive several blocks, then text Jones.
Me: I'm out.
A few minutes pass, and I get a reply.
Jones: Done.
Me: Perfect. I owe you a bigger bonus.
Jones: I'll happily take your money. Stop by tomorrow morning. I have something for you.
I chuckle, feeling a buzz. Hugh's going to have nothing left. He's going to lose it when he realizes everything is gone.
I drive home to the beach house. Since it's so late, Blakely's already sleeping. I unpack everything into my office safe, then lock it. I take a shower, then slide into bed.
She stirs. "You're back."
I give her a kiss, then tell her, "I am. Go back to sleep."
She snuggles into me, and the warm feeling I can't escape fills me. It's something I've gotten more used to lately. I can't lie to myself anymore. I enjoy it.
I kiss the top of her head and peacefully fall asleep until the morning comes, waking up at my normal time.
Blakely's still asleep. I unpeel my body from hers, then sneak out of the bedroom. I get outside, put on my wetsuit, then take my board down to the water and hit the waves.
The sun's risen when I finally see the calm chaos. I stay in the water for a few more minutes, thinking about my pet.
She's the one.
I need to keep her.
Anxiety mixes with that warmth I can't escape. It gradually spreads throughout my chest until it seeps into my stomach. This isn't the first time I've told myself these things, yet time doesn't seem to override my reaction.
I paddle to shore, shower, then venture into the bedroom.
Blakely steps out of the bathroom. She sees me and smiles, chirping, "Morning. How was the surf?"
I close the distance between us and kiss her. "Great. Were you up late?"
She nods. "I finished another song. At least, I think it's done."
I glance at the clock, debating if I have time to play, but I don't. I announce, "I have a ton of things going on today at work."
