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My arm is a little sore after we get home. Her hold had been painful and my old fading bruises become a little red.
“Fucking great,” I say, rubbing the area of my forearm when my phone beeps from somewhere in the foyer.
Forgetting the coffee, we came straight back. I tossed my bag on a table while Gina left to find Magda and some ice for my arm. After, she left to go and pick up the painting supplies which were my last stop for the day. I want to change the color of our bedroom walls from white to a grey-ish mauve color that caught my eyes on a design show.
That was an hour ago, and I’m still in a daze.
My vacation from them has come to an abrupt end.
Another beep and I follow the sound, finding the small device on the floor of all places. Picking it up, I swipe a finger over the screen and find ten texts and four missed calls. All from Malcolm.
Something simple is fine ~Malcolm
Or how about I bring dinner, and you wait for me naked on our bed ~Malcolm
I want you to sit on my face tonight and ride my tongue ~Malcolm
A few others go on like that until the last one a few minutes ago.
I’m coming home. ~Malcolm
Touching the small picture of him I have at the top of our message thread; I press the call button and wait. It barely rings once when he answers, the harsh rustle of wind on his end lets me know he’s outside—more than likely heading my way.
“Are you okay?” There’s some bite to his tone, but I know it’s not with me. A car honks near him and then another. “Tell me you are okay?”
“I’m fine, babe. A little shook up, but fine...I promise.” Opening the front door, I walk down the steps and down his driveway. My mind is racing, trying to fight off the fear seeing him brought on, and I need to keep moving. Put one foot in front of the other as I fight to find my calm.
“They should have never approached you. I’m sorry—”
“Not your fault.” And it isn’t. However, it does make me think. Makes me wonder what it’ll take to rid myself of the men I thought were family. “Actually, I’m safe because of you. Because you care.”
“I more than care. Never doubt that.”
His words bring a smile to my face and I close my eyes, soaking in the meaning behind them. “I more than care too.”
“I know.” Cocky man. “Maybe we can call it a Netflix and Chill day?”
“Get back to work, Mr. Asher.”
“London—”
“Chop chop, mister.” The leaves to my left rustle, but I pay them no mind. This property is safe. “Go wrap up whatever you need to and then come home. We’ll order a pizza and eat it in bed while watching that boring movie you had on last time.”
“So bratty.”
“You bring it out of me.”
“Are you sure? I can come back with no problem.”
“Positive. See you soon, babe.” Disconnecting the call, I open my eyes and realize that I’m at the end of his long driveway. At the entrance and staring into the eyes of a man I’ve never seen before. “Who are you?”
“Are you a Miss London Gabriela Foster?” The way he says my name, as if he knows me, isn’t sitting well with me. That, and how does he know my middle name? I never use it. “Please don’t be alarmed, ma’am. I just want to talk to you.”
I take a step back from the closed gate. “How do you know my name?”
“Can I come in and speak to you? I’m with the FBI and have some questions.”
“Show me your I.D.” Where the hell is security? I know someone is always guarding the entrance and back of the property. “If I do, can I come in?”
