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Fuck. What happened last night?
I opened my eyes the next morning to find myself in my bedroom, a slight hangover clouding my thoughts as I tried to piece together the events of the previous night. My memory was an unsettling, hazy void.
I sighed, pressing my palm to my forehead. How did I even get here? Did I pass out last night? It didn’t seem possible. I’d been tipsy, but not wasted. Plus, I’d walked a lot of it off, so that didn’t seem likely. I remembered the stray cats fighting, the dog running across the street, even the catcalls from the guys sitting on the corner. Finally, the memory of Kane’s face staring back into mine washed over me, and I closed my eyes.
What the fuck happened? How did I get home?
I took stock of my body. Other than a raging hangover, everything felt normal. My muscles ached, likely the results of my lengthy walk along the outskirts of the strip, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. My fingers slipped in between my legs, tracing along the fabric of my panties. He didn’t fuck me, right?
You’re a hot mess, bitch.
I looked down to see one of my favorite nightshirts covering my body. Had he carried me home and dressed me for bed? My cheeks flushed as I thought about the fact that he’d likely stripped me of my party dress and my bra, then put me to bed. Somehow, that seemed more shameful than all the times I’d danced for him before. As my cheeks heated, I tried to rack my mind for answers and came up with nothing.
Why had he been out there? What was he doing all alone in the dark?
Then, something else occurred to me. Maybe he was following me and watching over me from afar.
Maybe he missed you, too.
My fingers trembled just thinking about it. I laid back and stared at the celling for a moment before I turned towards the window.
The soft, golden glow of morning light filtered through my curtains, casting a slightly comforting warmth over the room. I looked around, nothing seeming out of place, at least until I glanced to my right.
On my bedside table, bathed in the light of the sun, lay a substantial sum of cash. I swallowed hard, trying to understand where it might have come from. I reached out to touch it, thinking maybe I might be dreaming. When my fingers brushed against the bills, I started, almost like I expected it not to be real.
Beside the money, there was a note, written in an elegant, flowing script. My breathing quickened as I reached for it and took it in my hands. My heart hammered as I read the words, a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty washing over me.
Lexie,
The money is for you, no strings attached. This should be more than enough to cover a year’s rent and then some. I know you’ve faced an overwhelming share of challenges in your life, and perhaps I can’t mend them all, but hopefully this will help a little bit.
Yet, let this also serve as a reminder—a gentle warning. If you ever find yourself wandering down those darkened streets again, know that I will be watching.
Take this gift with an open heart and an open mind. Fate has its own plans, and our story is far from over.
The message was clear: the money was mine, and he didn’t expect anything from me for it. It wasn’t signed, but there really wasn’t any question in my mind as to who it was from.
Kane was watching over me after all.
With my worries over money fully settled, I laid back in bed. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to drift back to sleep.
I dreamed of him.
* * *
Over the next few days, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. With my every move around the city, I could feel the heaviness of his gaze upon me, but anytime I looked for him, he wasn’t there. My eyes searched every shadow, every corner, every window, but I didn’t see him again, not even once.
When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I went out again, only this time I didn’t drink a single drop. I wanted to be certain I was of sound mind this time. I’d never been able to figure out how I’d gotten home or why I’d passed out in the first place, but it didn’t really matter. It was all wrapped up in the mystery of Kane. Eventually, I was going to figure him out.
Lost in the labyrinth of my own emotions, I found myself hoping, even yearning, to catch another glimpse of him, to feel the intensity of his dark gaze once more, to feel his lips on mine and the touch of his fingers on my skin.
The night had taken on a supernatural quality, and as I walked the streets, the full moon hung low in the sky, casting its radiant glow over the city. Its light spilled across the asphalt and sidewalks, transforming the familiar streets into something otherworldly. Everything seemed sharper and more vivid.
The buildings, normally veiled in shadows, stood tall and resolute, their architectural details etched in delicate moonlight. Even the florescent signs and city lights paled in comparison to the moon’s majestic radiance. It was as if the entire world had been dipped in liquid silver, each surface glistening with a spectral sheen.
I stared up at it in wonder for a moment before I started down the strip. I walked without any direction, and before I knew what I was doing, I’d wandered into a truly seedy part of town.
As I ventured deeper into the grisly underbelly of Las Vegas, the glitz and glamour of the Strip gave way to a stark, gritty reality that lay steeped in shadow. The bright neon lights grew dimmer, replaced by the flickering, uncertain glow of aging streetlamps that fought valiantly against the encroaching darkness.
