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Her pussy floods with heat. Her core contracts and tightens around my cock. I can’t take it and growl into her ear, more beast than man, as she comes again. I share her orgasm, filling her with my own. It’s intense, heightened by our mutual understanding, by the feelings we can’t escape.
We dress as the darkness rushes toward us. I hold her hand as we walk fast back toward the house. I didn’t get to show her everything—the vistas, the intense loneliness of being in the middle of an enormous space with no other humans in sight—but we can do that another time.
“Sleep in my bed again tonight.” We reach the property but pause before going inside.
“I figured that went without saying.”
“I’m saying it. Sleep in my bed every night.”
“Alright. I can do that.” She gets on her toes and kisses me. “I really do have feelings for you.”
“I believe you.”
She gives me a long look, one I don’t understand. It’s almost melancholy. But she covers it with a smile and drags me inside, already chatting about what wine we’ll have with dinner, and how late I’m going to keep her up, and the moment passes.
Chapter30
Hellie
Iwake up early the next morning, afraid I screwed up my timing, but it’s still dark outside.
I scramble over and check the clock: a little past five in the morning. The bed’s empty, which means Erick’s awake and down in the gym getting in his workout; he’ll be there until six at the earliest, sometimes later depending on the day. I sit in bed, staring at the ceiling, taking deep breaths, trying to decide if I’m really going through with this.
If it works, best-case scenario, I get to meet my father and find out what he wants. We’ll talk, he won’t get caught, and then—
And then I’m free to do what I want.
I could run. Get out of Vegas, hide somewhere Frost and Gallo can’t find me. But the thought of doing that makes my throat itch like I’m allergic to the very idea.
I could call Erick, admit I ran away, tell him everything, and hope he brings me back.
Except I have no clue how he’d react.
Maybe I could sneak back into Marina’s car somehow, or ask a cab to drive me out here, except I don’t know where here is and there’s no way I’ll get to the meeting with Dad and back in time.
Basically, I’m screwed. I have no exit plan, and no matter what I come up with, there’s some terrible downside.
I have to trust that Erick won’t be angry. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right? Some voice in the back of my head keeps saying I’m being stupid, Erick’s not the type to forgive and forget, but I get out of bed, take a quick shower, throw on comfortable, lightweight clothes, and try to push that from my mind.
First stop, the studio. I click on some lights and leave a note taped to the door:In the zone, do not disturb until lunch. I already ate and I have tea!I have no clue if that’ll work, but it’ll probably buy me enough time.
Next stop, downstairs.
I sneak along the steps, listening at every landing. This early, the house is silent. Marina’s probably in the kitchen cooking breakfast. The home gym is in the back of the house, and Erick listens to loud music as he lifts. Ren’s not here, and there aren’t any other guards since there’s nowhere for me to run.
The path to the garage is wide open.
I slip out the door. It’s cool and dark. Tools are hung on a very neat pegboard above a well-used workbench. It’s a long space, more workshop than anything else, though there are a few vehicles parked in the bays. A vintage Mercedes, a black truck, a new Ferrari, and a sensible Nissan Altima.
It’s not hard to guess which one Marina drives.
I peer in through the windows of the Altima. It’s a basic sedan, a few years out of date, but kept very neat. The biggest tell is the cross hanging from the rearview mirror: Marina’s Catholic, but Erick’s nothing, meaning I’m at the right place.
I take a deep breath. It smells like oil and old wood. I stare back at the door, and this is my last chance. I could go back inside, head into the kitchen, ask Marina for coffee and eggs, and forget all about this.
My dad’s email keeps playing in my head. Why did he write that? Why did he take the risk? Unless it’s important, there’s no way he’d come back and risk himself, not for me anyway. For all he knows, I’m already dead, but he sent the message and set the meeting.
I have to go. I don’t want to, which is the worst part. I should want to face my father, tell him off, hear what he has to say and let him know what I really think of him—that in the end, he’s a selfish asshole that only ever cared about himself, leaving me as an afterthought at best. I want him to understand how he basically put a death sentence on my head, and that I’m only alive because Erick’s a decent man and didn’t want to murder me.
