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I crack the door open, watching the lobby for her. As expected, Marv reads his newspaper, casting his eyes on and off the screens in front of him. A few minutes later, Prue emerges from behind the elevator doors.
Even this late, even though this angle allows me to see her back and nothing more, this woman captivates me.
She glides on her heels, enveloped by a golden halo. Her blond locks flow down in waves to her wine-colored blouse. Her butt sways inside a black pencil skirt as she walks to the parking lot on her heels, and my dick jerks seeing the pantyhose she mentioned.
She adjusts her purse on her shoulder, heading out the front doors.
Watching her spikes my pulse, and my need for her rises.
Every breath she takes has my obsession for her growing, expanding. My need to claim her, possess her doesn’t wane. I want to put a collar around her slender neck, so it’ll be crystal fucking clear she’s mine.
Or a diamond ring on her finger.
Either will work.
Two more short, decisive steps, and she’s out of the building. A few more and she’ll be safe in her Prius, on the way to see me.
She’s almost in her car.
And…what the fuck?
A short guy with a buzzed haircut, wearing jeans and a dark T-shirt walks to stand in front of our office building. He’s holding up his phone, taking pictures of her.
Ofmywoman.
The fuck he will.
I barely acknowledge Marv, shove the door open, and step outside. Prue already drove away, and the fucker starts walking to an old, silver Ford sedan at the other side of the parking lot.
Where the building’s security cameras won’t catch him.
It might’ve seemed optimal to him when he planned to stalk her, to go undetected. Less than optimal location for him now, seeing as I’m about to beat the shit out of him.
He doesn’t notice me coming, doesn’t hear the soft pads of my sneakers on the asphalt. The cars driving by do a decent job of camouflaging my approach too.
By the time I’m at his back, it’s already too late for him.
“Hello, asshole,” I say at his back.
I wait for him to turn around. Look at the fury on my face.
And let him watch as my fist connects with his jaw.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Theo
“What…whatthefuck,man?”the man I’m crouching over murmurs.
I don’t have much time. Prue will text me again soon enough. Other people will file out of the building.
But I have to know. “Who sent you?”
“For what?”
On any other day, I don’t look like I might be able to murder someone. I’m lean but not overly pumped. I’m not a man who’s been roughened by life, regardless of the shit Jason has put me through, and the guilt eating at my pores on a daily basis.
I’ve never had the need to kill anyone.
