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The helicopter doesn’t fly for long before it’s already descending and lands on top of a tall building. We climb out, and I follow behind him as he makes his way to a door. He holds it open, his eyes finding mine before his chin jerks toward the open door.
Slipping inside, I don’t go very far, knowing that it would probably piss him off. However, I have no idea what would piss this man off, because I don’t know a single thing about him—not even his name.
When he steps through the doorway, he touches my elbow but doesn’t stop. It’s my signal to follow him, and I do. His shoes echo with each stair he takes downward. My own feet make no noises, because I’m still shoeless.
We only descend one flight of stairs before he opens another door and steps into a plush carpeted hall. I almost whimper as I step out onto the white carpet. I’ve probably ruined it with my dirty feet, but I can’t find the will to care because it feels that amazing.
“Hurry now. The neighbors would have a field day at the sight of you,” he grunts. “And they do love to talk.”
Rushing behind him, I pause when he reaches for a door and pushes it open. He doesn’t wait for me to pass him this time, but he does hold it open for me on the other side. I slip into the space, and my lips part as I take in the absolute ostentatious space.
The apartment looks as if it’s an old-fashioned French castle, the likes I’ve only seen in pictures. It’s all gold and light blues along with a splash of deep burgundy. It’s beautiful, and I feel completely out of place with my messy hair, dirty feet, and skimpy dress.
“Down that hall and the first door on the left is the bedroom ensuite. There is a robe in there. Shower and refresh. There is much to do.”
The way he speaks, it’s as if he is busy. I’m this thing he is shooing away. Instead of arguing with him, I turn and start to move down the hall when he calls out to me. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder back at him.
“If it would make you feel more comfortable, you are more than welcome to lock the doors.”
He says those words, turns his head, then shifts his body and walks away, leaving me alone in the hallway, looking over my shoulder staring at him like an idiot. My entire body shivers before I begin to move toward the bedroom.
It’s another opulent space. I step inside, close the door behind me, flip the lock in place, then let out a breath. I have no idea what is happening, but the fact that I can have a few moments to myself makes me feel at peace for just a moment.
Tears prick my eyes. Itch. Kyle. Whatever and whoever he is, he doesn’t want me the way I want him. He was a blip in my life that I will never forget. With him, I was happy. And not just the other women, not just the club members, but him. He made me happy. Being in his arms, lying beside him, looking into his eyes.
Everything about him made me happy.
I tried to appreciate every single second, but Tempt and her presence loomed over me, distracting my ability to keep hold of that happiness.
Forcing myself away from the door, I walk toward the bathroom, locking that door behind me as well before I start the shower. Steam fills the room, and I let it wash over me before I slip out of the dirty dress.
Stepping into the warm shower, I wince when the water touches the back of my tender head. I’d almost forgotten about the fight with Tempt and the way my head bounced off the concrete.
A fresh round of tears springs to my eyes, and again, I cry. It seems as if that’s all I do these days, but at the same time, I can’t stop myself.
I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, so I cry. I cry for the loss of my freedom, of what could have been. But I also cry for what already was. I want to go back. For the first time in my life, I know what I want—who I want—and it’s Itch.
ChapterThirty-Four
ITCH
The body is still warm,though not a surprise considering how fucking hot it is out here. Dutch is dead in the desert. Flicking my gaze to Raul, I watch him for a reaction, but he gives me nothing.
Instead, he shakes his head once, then turns away from his body and walks back to the waiting car.
“What happens now?” I ask Legacy. “And what the fuck does this mean for Piper?”
Legacy moves his head from side to side once, then turns and walks away without a word. Goddammit. Son of a fucking bitch. I push away the anxiety, the fear of never finding Piper again, and focus on this shit.
Following Legacy, I stand a few feet back as he talks to Raul. “What the fuck do we do now? I got a brother who is missing an old lady, and Dutch did this shit. Where did he send her?” Legacy asks.
My heart jumps to my throat, his words hit home, and I can’t stop the panic from filling me.
Fucking hell.
My wife.
She’s fucking gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t even take my frustrations out on Dutch, because he’s already fucking dead, and I’m not into fucking with corpses.
