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I put on one of the three ball caps I brought with me today, and goosebumps roll down my arms as I step into the shop, the door chime like the eerie music in horror movies right before the stupid girl goes down to the basement.
I have to consciously remind myself to breathe as I pretend to peruse the chest of ice cream. It goes against every survival instinct screaming inside me to turn my back on a pack of wolves—Foxes.
All my senses are so trained on them that I don’t remember what I ordered and only realize it’s vanilla when I take my first lick.Damn, I wanted strawberry.
I keep my head down as I eat my ice cream, but I’m always scanning their table in my periphery. I struggle to make out their words over the bass-filled pop playing in the shop. I’m straining my ears to hear them talk about football, cars, andThe Office. That can’t be right. Maybe they're talking in code and Michael Scott is the street name for a new drug.
Doubtful.
Every few minutes, my skin will crawl with a shiver, and I am certain I will look up to see Cash’s eyes boring into mine. But instead, I’m met with his profile and those goddamn sunglasses. I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel them on me.I think.
I need to go back to the drawing board. Their little ice cream date was a total bust. After eating, I followed Cash and one of his brothers back to The Fox’s Den, and the other two drove off together. I gained absolutely nothing of value. Not a blip.
I’m about to take the two-mile walk from The Fox’s Den to my apartment to clear my head and start thinking sense, when I noticed someone taping a paper to the window from the inside. I’ve avoided getting too close to the pub. In a way, it feels more like a wolf's den, and I’m just asking for trouble if I forget that and get too bold. The closest I got was down the sidewalk to pick up the cigarette butt.
But my curiosity and desperation get the best of me.
Help wanted
Looking for front-of-house staff, no experience needed.
I can play store-brand private eye as long as I want, but I won’t actually accomplish anything unless I can do what the cops can’t do: get closer.
The conversations that matter, theproofthat matters, is behind closed doors. The cops have to worry about things like probable cause and warrants. But I don’t.
And this is the perfect opportunity.
Cash Fox is handing me his own demise on a silver platter.
Cash
3 Hours earlier
It’s amazing how committed she is to these shitty disguises. In fact, I find it kind of adorable the way she thinks a baseball cap or pair of headphones could ever do enough to overshadow everything about her thatbeams.
I’ve taken to walking everywhere since I gathered she doesn’t drive a car. I like knowing she’s tiptoeing behind me. I bet her heart’s racing. I want to feel it. I want to lay my hand on her chest and feel if it’s battering as heavily as I imagine it is.
Sometimes I stop abruptly just to watch her stutter to a halt, dip behind a telephone pole, or pull out her phone for absolutely no reason at all. My cock aches to know what she smells like, tastes like. Does she scream uninhibited and wild when she fucks, or does she stifle sweet, little moans until she shatters? These are the things on my mind when I fall asleep and when I wake up, and every other fucking minute of the day. It’s her. It’salwaysher.
I’m not a man to do things in halves. If something is worth doing, I’m going to do it with my whole chest, with every weapon in my arsenal. It’s why I was able to step into my father’s shoes at twenty-four and quadruple his already-impressive empire in the last decade. When I set my mind on something, it infects my bloodstream, becomes part of me.
And right now, she is the all-consuming virus ravaging me from the inside out.
And I need some goddamn relief.
“Stella.” I swivel my desk chair around to talk to her on the couch in my office.
She looks up from her phone but remains reclined with one arm behind her head and her feet propped up on the arm rest. She’s the only person who can get away with putting her shoes on my couch. “Sup, boss.”
“For some reason, when you say that, it feels like you’re mocking me. You know, most people look up to me with respect.”
“That’s ’cause I am mocking you. Now, what's up?” I scoff, because if she were anyone else, I’d cut out her tongue. And she knows to only say shit like that in the privacy of my office. Stella was my first hire when I took over, and while I don’t think I truly have any friends, if I did, she would be my best one. I’ve only been able to drag her to the shooting range with me a few times and she refuses to carry at work, but in theory, I trust her with my life.
“I want you to hire a new waitress. Put a sign up in the window and bring me any applications before you interview.”
“We already have too many servers.” She swings her feet down and leans her elbows on her knees. “People will be pissed if their hours get cut any more.”
“Give them a twenty percent raise on their hourly.” She gives me a face that says,that’ll do it.“Good. Print the flyer now, but don’t post it until I call you.”
