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“No. What weneedto do is leave. And you need to go home, shower, have coffee. Sober up,” he tells me.
“I’m not leaving without her.”
“I don’t give a shit about anyone else, Lucy. What I care about is getting you out of this fucking hellhole—somewhere you never should have fucking been in the first place.” His voice is firm, probably firmer than I’ve ever heard him talk to me.
“And I don’t give a shit about what you want. I’m not leaving here without my best friend.”
The door behind me opens and I turn my head to see Shar and Xavier walking out.
Oh boy, and if I thought Dominic looked pissed off, it’s nothing compared to the way my brother is eyeing me right now.
“Lucy, Tim’s here to take you home,” Xavier says as he comes to a stop next to me.
“Thank god.” I sigh. “Are you okay? Want to stay at mine tonight?” I ask Shar.
Before she can answer me, Xavier answers for her. “No, she doesn’t.” Then he turns to Dominic. “Whatever damage they caused, I’ll pay for it. Send me an itemised invoice.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dominic says before turning around and walking out the door.
Huh, I did not expect him to just leave like that. Well, isn’t he full of surprises.
TWENTY-ONE
I can’t believe they fucking put her in a cell like a common thug. Fucking Lucy Christianson in a cell. My fucking Little Bee locked up behind bars.
I was livid when I got the call to inform me my house was broken into and by whom. The fucking officer then went on to tell me that the culprits were currently locked up in a holding cell, waiting for my decision on whether or not to press charges. The only ones I wanted punished were the fuckers who touched her. When she walked—or should I saystumbled—out I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and carry her away. Take her home.
I didn’t do that. Instead, in true Lucy stubbornness, she stood and went toe to toe with me. Arguing about not wanting to leave her friend. I would leave the whole fucking world behind and walk away with her and her alone. And never look back. Not once. I know it’s not reasonable to expect her to do the same. To forget everyone else exists and have her whole fucking world revolve around me. I shouldn’t expect that, but it’d be fucking nice if things happened that way.
I left her there with her brother. It was either that or make a fucking scene by taking her by force and dragging her into my car. I figured leaving was the smarter option. Which is why I now find myself sitting in her living room, waiting for her to walk through the door. Her driver was meant to be bringing her home—by my calculations, she should be here any minute now. My knee bounces up and down, as nervous energy rolls through my body in waves. When the door opens and she walks in, I flick on the light. Then without saying a word, I stand, run my eyes up and down her body, and start checking all of her rooms and cabinets so she doesn’t need to do it herself.
“You can stop, you know. There’s no point in looking for the bogeyman when he’s standing right in front of me,” she says.
“You think I’m the bogeyman?” I ask her, my head tilted to one side as I await her answer.
“If the shoe fits.” She shrugs.
“You say you’re afraid of me, but your body says something else entirely. Your actions contradict every one of your pretty little protests,” I tell her.
“Oh yeah, and what does my body say?”
“Right now, your body is begging for me to touch it. Everywhere. You want me to lick you from head to toe, spread those creamy thighs of yours, and open your pussy right up for me.” I take a step. She’s already in arm’s reach as my hand rests gently around her neck, “You want me to fuck you until you forget your own name,” I say in her ear.
She takes a deep breath. “And what if I said I want that? Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“Fuck me until I don’t know who I am?” she clarifies.
I move my head back to look her right in the eye. “If I fuck you, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop. I don’t think once will be enough,” I warn her.
“What if it is? What if you find out the reality isn’t half as good as the fantasy you’ve built up in your head?”
“Doubtful.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Her fingers grip the hem of her shirt and she lifts the material over her head, revealing a pair of perky fucking C-cups covered by a white lace bra.
“This is a dangerous game, Little Bee.” I watch as she takes a step to the rear, reaches behind her back, and unhooks the bra.
