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“Please tell me if or when anything new happens, I’ll be worrying about you day and night.”
“As much as I can, babes,” I answer with a small smile.
I lean over to hug her, and still, I’m fighting back tears. I should feel relieved that I’ve told Sunny but it’s making me feel worse. These half-truths are killing me and one of these days I’ll wake up to realize they’ve finally suffocated me to death. Successfully ending the new life I’ve tried to create after snuffing out the one I left behind.
Chapter 27
Thewheelsofmyprivate plane hit the tarmac with a jerk. We’ve just landed at the Ukiah Municipal Airport in Mendocino County, a two hour flight up the coast. I check my watch distractedly as I wait for the plane to come to a full stop. I try to fly up here at least once a month to check up on business and visit the sprawling weed farms we own near the Mendocino National Park.
Just another way to hide illegal deals behind the legitimacy of a legal business. My father barely had any legit dealings, favoring the illicit trade of guns and drugs. But this? This is all me. Hiding in plain sight is my favorite activity. With the help of Byzantine and Bastian and the many legal and illicit fronts we own since my father’s death, we’ve made the Sin Eaters stronger than ever before.
A car waits for me when I deboard and soon we’re heading towards the farm about an hour away from the airport. I try to focus on answering emails on my phone but I find myself just staring at the screen, my mind stuck in Noxport.
It’s only been a day since Lenix and I fucked for the first time in two years. I stayed out most of the night just to avoid her. And this coincidental trip up the coast has me feeling like a teenager who can’t manage his fucking feelings. No, notfeelings, just an uncomfortable tightness in my chest that I can’t seem to shake.
I want to keep the memory of Lenix blissfully coming on top of me while I ached with my own release untouched until it’s ultimately ruined by reality. I know she’ll be avoiding me. So I’m avoiding her right back. This feels so fucking childish, and it makes me want to set myself on fire but I can’t help it. So I left the city under the guise of a business trip.
I usually try to stay overnight to make traveling worthwhile since I own a house up here. But leaving Lenix unprotected for more than twenty-four hours has me uneasy. Even if she’s the bane of my existence most of the time, I’m still a man of my word. So, I asked Bastian to install a few more cameras around the house—including the guest bedroom.
He raised a brow when I told him this morning.
“For her protection, yeah?” he said.
I gave him a curt nod in response. “What the fuck else would they be for?”
“And who will be in charge of watching the feeds?”
“Give me access and no one else,” I spat out.
And so, without much protest and an indolent shrug of his shoulder he installed the cameras and gave me access through an app on my phone.
Before the flight, I even typed out a short message to Lenix telling her I’d be out of town till Friday afternoon. My jaw ticked when I sent it, appalled that I was doing something so fucking domestic as telling her about my whereabouts.
She never replied.
I manage not to check the camera feeds all day. Not like I had much free time anyway. And knowing Lenix was most likely at the office all day dampened the urge considerably.
But now the itch is crawling up my spine, my fingers twitching around the sweating glass of mezcal I’m holding. Sitting in the dark kitchen in my beach house, I scowl at the shadows dancing on the wall facing me. My phone is burning in my palm, and there’s a smoldering fire in my chest that I’m trying to ignore with my entire existence. Abhorrently, it’s connected to the fact that Lenix never replied to my text. It shouldn’t bother me. She ignored me for two years before this. Or tried at the very least.
But something’s shifted ever since she moved in, a wisp of possessive heat stings my skin, and it’s growing hotter by the day.Especially, when she’s ignoring me like she is now. And so, instead of flinging the glass against the wall, I down the smokey alcohol in one long gulp and head for the bedroom. Changing into a pair of gray sweats, I leave my chest bare and sit on the bed, my back against the pillows lining the headboard. My phone hasn’t left my side. I swipe my hand through my hair, then down my face and mustache, finally doing what I’ve been itching to do all fucking day.
I open the app and after clicking a few buttons, the video feed pops up on the screen, split into six squares for the different cameras. At first, I can’t find her anywhere, but finally I detect movement in one of the feeds, realizing that I’m looking atmybedroom, not hers. I grin so wide you’d think I’ve just won the fucking lottery. I click on the video, enlarging it.
Maybe I should feel something other than a thrilling lust at finding her exactly where she’s not supposed to be, but instead I settle in like I’m about to watch the best movie ever made. She’s wearing a short pink satin robe, her hair falling in natural curls, a rare sight, looking fresh out the shower. From the vantage point of the camera, she’s facing away and to my disappointment, I can’t see what’s hiding underneath. She seems aimless, not looking like she's searching for something in particular. Her fingers trail atop my dresser and that same small tingle I’ve felt before pings through me.
Then I get an idea.
I reach over to grab my laptop, having the app installed on there too and pull up the video, hitting the full screen. Lenix reappears, not having stopped her slow perusal of my room. This leaves me the freedom to use my phone without losing the image of Lenix where she’s not supposed to be.
Me:Miss me?
I watch Lenix jump. She looks down at her phone but just as I thought, she ignores my text. So I up the ante.
Me:Or maybe it’s your cunt that misses me?
Without waiting for a reply that might never come, I send another.
Me:Have you been thinking about my cock while you’re all alone in that big house?
