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And the fucking model who held her in his arms, too.
I’m at a crossroads right now.
I could stay here, announce my presence to Magnolia, let her see that she can run, but she can’t fucking hide. Not from me. She’s mine, and she has no idea what that entails yet. Or, I can slink back into the shadows, watch her from afar, crave her with the wildness I feel inside already, and pop up at this signing and give this romance community she’s come to love a real show.
I wonder if she’d like that.
I read a few pages in the book on her nightstand, and the hero was decidedly too much like me. She’s living out her fantasy of a man in charge through the pages of a fictional story.
Decisions, decisions.
I want nothing more than to drag her out of here and back to the solitude of my home, but she seems to have built something for herself here.
I followed her tracks from Arizona because I wanted inside her mind. I needed to know what she was seeing while her trauma was still so fresh. Catch a glimpse of the woman behind the pain, masking it so strangers wouldn’t see, afraid of what I’d find.
Until I arrived here.
Magnolia appears happy with her new friend. I’ve been watching them for a couple of days, and they share a bond. A traumatic one, but one they both have burned through fire to survive. I’m not in the market to strip that away from them. Which means I may have to give up the warmth and comfort of Africa for the god-awful humidity here in Texas. Beautiful land, terrible fucking weather.
Entering back into Magnolia’s room, I relax on her bed. Needing to feel something of hers. Needing her to sense I was here, even if she won’t. Because that’s how I work. If I’m to stay away until this fucking event, allow her to have her happiness without me, then I can’t leave a mark on her space.
The sound of rattling at the front door bolts me upright, gun in hand, as I silently make my way across the room and into the hall. I know it’s not the girls. They have keys. Someone is trying to pick the lock. Unsuccessfully, I might add.
Glancing through the peephole, I find a young man, maybe twenty, fiddling with the locks while his eyes shift side to side, watching for someone.
Curious, I wait to the side of the door until finally, he gets it. It’s luck, I’m sure, because this moron hasn’t got any kind of skill. He certainly has no instincts as he slips through the door and leaves it open a crack.
Hidden behind the curve in the wall beside the door, I’m back to making a choice again. Announce myself and clobber this asshole or wait and watch to see what he’s come here for.
The girls live in a nice area of town, so I don’t believe he’s a junky looking for a fix. Could be a thief. Could be a stalker. The thought has my spine straightening and my finger itchy to pull the trigger. But if I do that, then Magnolia and Jossilyn will know for sure that their space has been invaded, and I really want to avoid that. They’ve found safety here, and I won’t let anyone take that away from them.
I wait until the kid slinks down the hallway and enters a room before trailing after him. Spotting him in Magnolia’s room, a pair of her underwear to his nose, I know exactly who this punk is.
Creeping up behind him is easy. He isn’t even aware I’m here until my arm is around his neck and my gun is at his temple. His body freezes, and the pissant fucking whimpers.
“Whatcha doing here, mate?” The pleasant question is filled with menace.
“Just, uh, I, well…” I’m almost positive he’s about to piss his pants.
“You’ve got my girl’s knickers in your hand there. Shall I cut it off?” Not here. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“What? No!” he shouts and attempts to struggle his way out of my hold.
“Perhaps you should explain why you’re breaking into her home and making yourself comfortable in her room, then.” I press the barrel of my gun a little harder into his temple. “If you’re about to piss, that’s going to make me angrier. Try to hold it in.”
His whimpering is getting on my nerves. “Magnolia, she lets me in; she lets me.”
Blowing out a whistle, I’m surprised he had the gumption to lie to me. “Nah, she didn’t, mate. My Magnolia is a private person. She has no interest in you.”
“That’s not true!” he bellows again.
“Done with this now.” My arm tightens around his throat until he’s unconscious. Hefting his piddly weight over my shoulder, I walk out of the townhouse like I belong. The street is quiet as I drop the young lad into the rear seat of my Jeep, zip-tying his hands behind his back and then his ankles.
His breathing has evened out, so I know he’s not dead, despite every instinct inside me screaming to snap his neck. I’ll need to get his name and background before making the decision to end his life. It shouldn’t matter; he entered my sweet pet’s space, invaded her privacy, touched her knickers. The anger festers and grows inside me, begging to be unleashed.
At a stop light, I spin and slam my fist into the side of his head. He deserves far more, far worse, but I settle for one hit for now. As the light turns green, I see Magnolia and her friend carrying bags on their walk back home. Settling in downtown was a brilliant idea on their part. Everything is at their fingertips. Unless it’s night.
Fuck.
