“Hello, Grace.” That wicked smirk blooms into a smile as I approach and I instantly pick up on an accent in his voice. With the sandy blond hair and straight white teeth accompanied by the expensively tailored suit, he could be quite magnificent if he didn’t have sinister intentions dancing around in his gaze.
“Hello. How do you know my name?” I ask once I’m about two feet away from him. I’m not actually brave enough to get any closer, screw that. Especially not after what happened with his buddy last night. Hell to the no. I may be a touch too trusting, but I’m not stupid.
His light gray irises sparkle with amusement. “Let’s not be dense, little yobbo. You know exactly how and why I know your name.”
So, he does remember me as well and I’m guessing Thaddaeus has spoken about me to him. He’s a dick. I can tell just by his one reply. I usually either love or hate the type. I think I’m going to hate this one, but I hope I’m wrong. And what the hell did he just call me?
“Let’s go somewhere more private so we can speak plainly.”
Holding myself back from laughing, I shake my head, “I’m good right here. I’m not going anywhere with you.” Does he think I’m an idiot? I was freaking attacked last night. I’m not that damn obtuse.
“Fine. Suit yourself then.” A crack in his false sense of patience shows. “Why are you here, Grace?”
Not being able to resist, I throw his earlier words back at him. “Let’s not be dense, you know why I’m here.”
He chuckles and nods. “I’m starting to see why he’s so taken with you, if you spoke to him like that. Tell me, did you give him a bit of tongue at the restaurant?” His eyebrow quirks up, thoroughly amused, using words with double meaning to be just on the edge of inappropriate.
“Look, all I said was to get me a to-go cup and to bring me my bill. Nothing else.”
He makes a choking sound, his eyes growing wide. “Yo-you said those exact words to him?”
“Yes. I clammed up,”’ I shrug, tossing my hands up, “I get nervous and sometimes I come out sarcastic or rude without meaning too.” Shit, why am I even admitting this stuff about me to him? “You need to just tell your friend to leave me alone already. I’m sorry for treating him that way, okay? The gifts were nice, but if he ever touches me again, I’ll …”
He moves so fast that I’m taken off guard and no one acts like he even skipped a beat. His hand is suddenly in my hair, cupping the entire back of my skull. They’re fucking huge, just like the rest of him. He leans in quickly, talking quieter, being discreet so others around us won’t overhear. “You watch what your about to say, twonk. It’s in your best interest you sod off and don’t come back here. We own the cops.” His hand’s strong as it palms my skull, applying just enough pressure to make me uneasy again with the underlying threat.
At his admission, I swallow down a large gulp of air.
“Now, I suggest you go to work. You’re already late.” He steps back with a new grin pulling at his mouth, his hand dropping away. He winks, like he just shared an intimate secret between the two of us and his intimidating touch was some kind of sweet lover’s caress. The crazy thing is he doesn’t even look like he’s a criminal, more like some powerful lawyer just waltzing around the police station. “Oh, and it was nice to finally meet you,” he finishes, putting his hand out for me to shake.
He’s a fucking evil bastard.
On autopilot, I shake his hand, his grip dominating mine of course. God forbid he feel inferior to a woman. Once he drops my hand, I hurry out the door looking for the first available cab. If Thaddaeus and Maximillian own the cops, then I don’t trust my safety being outside the police station because who knows what else they control.
Once I’m in the cab, I pull my cell free and dial my mom. She can’t help me out of this situation, but I need to speak with someone who’ll calm me down and get my thoughts away from the conversation that just took place. If I don’t focus on something else at the moment, I may wig myself completely out. I’m like two steps away from losing my shit and crying in the back of the cab.
“Gracie-Lue?” My mom answers with my childhood nickname and my chest instantly calms down, just by hearing her voice.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh honey! I miss you!”
“I miss you too Mom, so much.”
God do I. No one else in the world is like my mom. If she were here she’d kick Maximillian Macintosh’s handsome ass in a heartbeat. She’s may be petite in size, but she’s fierce, that’s for sure.
“Aw kiddo, so how’s things?”
“They’re … confusing.”
“Man trouble?”
“You could say that. There’s a guy who’s been sending me gifts.”
“I knew it would happen sooner than later,” she responds happily and puts her hand over the phone, shouting to my stepfather, “It’s Gracie, honey, and she has a boyfriend!”
“Mom, I don’t have a boyfriend. He’s just this guy and there’s drama already.”
“There always is dear, just stick it out, it’ll be worth it. Oh, I hope we get to meet him sometime soon.”
Arguing with her is pointless. Once I say man, she won’t hear anything else, and if I tell her about the rest, she’ll freak out and want me to move back home. I wish I could talk to her about it all. I need to tell someone, but Kaleigh will run off to another country or something crazy and Keisha will go try and hunt Thaddaeus down.
Ignoring her suggestion, I change the subject, “Mom, I have to go, I just wanted to call and let you know that I love you. I’ll give you a call again in a few days.”
“Okay honey, thank you for thinking of me. Love you and hope you have a good day at work.”
“Love you too, Mom, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” I hang up as the cab stops in front of my office. I’m not completely better, but the call was enough to get me to take a few deep breaths and catch my wits. I’m glad she didn’t sound lonely like the old man I spoke to the other day.
“Sixteen-fifty,” the man says, eyeing me over his shoulder.
“Here’s a twenty. Can you be outside, right here at five-thirty exactly?”
“Yes.”
“Good, thank you. You may keep the change.” No way in hell am I walking home tonight or tomorrow for that matter. The cab driver pockets the cash as I climb out and hurry into my work building. I won’t need to work out at a gym at this rate if I continue to run and rush around everywhere I go. One interaction with a guy and he has me spooked and full of anxiety.
Keisha’s at her desk when I make it to our floor. “Hey girl.” She glances up and smiles at me softly.
“Hi, Keish. Anything for me today?”
“Nope, but I haven’t been in your office either.”
“Ugh. Okay, thanks.” I’m so not in the mood for any gifts today. But I doubt he sent anything after yesterday evening.
“Hey, Grace, you okay girl?” Her face falls as she peers at me concerned.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine, just a chilly morning.” Flashing a fake grin, I head into my office, not looking forward to seeing my desk. If there’s something on it from our neighborhood psycho, I’m probably going to lose my shit.
Surprisingly there’s nothing on it. Glancing around, everything looks to be in order with nothing new. The pent-up breath I was holding, releases, my shoulders dropping as my body relaxes.
I wonder if his game is stopping now after what he pulled last night. I still don’t get it. Did I do something wrong to deserve his crazy treatment? It’s not like he left me anyway to find him or else I would’ve done the polite thing and thanked him for everything he sent. After the alley, though, I just want to cut ties and move on.
Hell, I would’ve even returned all the stuff immediately and been done with it, but who knows how he would’ve reacted to me doing something like that as well.
Why do I feel like I’ve opened an entire new shit storm by going to the poli
ce station? Well, at least I know now that I’m not losing my mind. I am being followed around after all. That means that they know where I live, that he knows where to find me outside of work.
For some odd reason that thought doesn’t frighten me. I don’t know if it’s because he hasn’t sent anything to my apartment or bothered me in any way at home, but it’s the one place that he’s kept off limits. Thank God for that too.
“Grace?” My boss pokes his head in my door with his plain brown hair brushed off to the side like he’s still ten years old. His shirt’s already wrinkly, telling me that he probably got here at six a.m. He must have no homelife for being here so much. The man eats, sleeps, and breathes his marketing firm.
“Yes, sir?”
“Give Mr. Anderson a call; he’s looking at adding another account and he likes you.”
“I will. Thank you.” One good piece of news today anyway.
He nods, disappearing and I throw myself into work all morning, trying to forget the run-in at the police station and my stalker’s knack for sending me gifts.
“We were right; she was going to the cops.” Max fills me in as he sits on the chair across from me, signaling for my house staff to bring him a coffee.
“Good for her. But she needs to learn where her loyalty should lie.” I’m glad she’s not going to let someone push her around so easily. She needs to have a backbone in this life, especially if my plan works and she’s at my side eventually. That little spark I saw in her at the restaurant was just enough to show me she may have what it takes to be with me. It takes a certain kind of woman to handle a man of my caliber.
“You’ve yet to speak to her, minus threatening her last night. You can’t possibly expect her to be loyal to you already. The sprog was ready to hand you over to the plod just this morning.”
“I haven’t contacted her yet because you know as well as I do that when it finally happens, she’ll become a target. Once I take her into the public, she’s my number one weakness to all of my enemies and I need her prepared.” I leave out the part that I may not be able to keep myself from touching her, possessing her if I see her so quickly. She needs time to warm up to me, because once I’m ready, I’ll make sure she’s mine and no one will be able to fulfill her once I give her a taste.
“Try telling her about it, perhaps. I’m sure she doesn’t understand your gifts either. Woman’s probably gone a bit potty by now.”
“She’s not a fucking imbecile. I’ll explain the meanings when I’m done sending them if she wishes. I plan to send her a phone in a few days and she’ll be able to contact me.” Not that it’s any of his business, but it’ll get him off my case. Of course, he doesn’t understand my notions; he’s never found a woman that he’s wanted to keep before or even be genuinely kind to.
“You’ll get a bloody earful, of that I’m certain.”
“I’m looking forward to it. She doesn’t hold back, huh?”
I’m practically salivating to see that temper of hers and hear that smart mouth again. I fucking love it that she’s not afraid to let me have it and that she’s not fearful of me. I’m sure I could get her to submit if I wanted to, but where’s the fun in that? Everyone around me does what they’re told; I like it that she’s different.
“Not a bit. I’m starting to see why she’s caught your attention. I’d suspected it was the ‘blow me’ lips she’s got, but apparently, she’s got some wit in her as well.”
“It’s more than that; Grace is the type that could change things for me.” And fuck, those lips. Can’t wait to have her down on her knees and they’re wrapped around my cock. I know she’ll look even more beautiful then.
“I hope you don’t mean that in a business sense. There’s no place in this life if you’re growing soft and a woman’s the first thing to make you weak. You were just saying it yourself that your enemies will see her as a weakness. Why not take a mistress or two; you’ll appear stronger.”
Keeping my voice even is a struggle as his words ignite my temper. If he were anyone else, he’d pay for that little dig, but he gets some slack being my close friend. “Did you forget who you’re speaking to? I remember finding you, abandoned by your familia because you liked to play with things a little too roughly. I took you in, remember that. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a rich bitch or not; never forget who put you in the spot you’re in now. These streets are run by me, and it’ll stay that way—woman or no woman.”
“Of course. How can I forget, when you won’t let me?” His face turns off to the side, angrily stewing inside by being put in his place. He doesn’t run shit and he needs to keep that in mind when talking to me.
“Are you jealous? Is that what this is about? You’re angry because I found someone who really interests me and now you’re questioning my business sense? Rest assured, old friend, I will always take care of things whether a woman’s around or not.”
He nods, keeping his opinions to himself. “So what are you sending her today?” He changes the subject—a peace offering—and I can’t wait to tell him about it.
Grace…
“Miss?” I’m interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.
Glancing up, I find a short, balding older man, snuggled up in a puffer jacket. “Yes? Hi, can I help you?”
“I have a delivery for you.” He steps into my office and my stomach sinks at his words. I thought it was over with, that perhaps seeing me attempt to go to the police was enough to make the gifts stop appearing. Surely, he knows I was there today; Maximillian Macintosh would’ve said something for sure.
“Um, from who exactly?”
“Sorry, but I’m not sure on the details; I was just paid to deliver it to your office.” He holds out a box about seven inches long by three inches wide, wrapped in plain black paper with a gold ribbon. It’s shallow and light.
“Do you remember what he looked like?”
He glances at his feet for a second, then meets my eyes again. “He was a big fella.” The old man shrugs, “Expensive suit, the same as most of the other guys coming in, asking me to do deliveries. Sorry lady, but I don’t usually pay them much attention; they all look the same to me.”
“No, I appreciate it, thank you.”
Could it have been Maximillian after he saw me? That brings a shudder to my spine. There wasn’t anything nice about him besides his looks. Could it have been Thaddaeus? For some reason, I don’t think he runs many of his own errands. Maybe one of the other guys he had with him that first day.
I nod, quickly scribbling my signature on his clipboard and he sets the box on my desk. “Have a good one, Miss.”
“Yeah, you too.” He leaves and it’s as if the box is glowing. I know I have to open it. No, I need to open it. It’ll drive me mad and after everything that’s happened, there’s no telling what’s in it.
Keisha appears in my doorway next. “Well? Is it anything good?” she asks.
“Shh! Come here.”
She stands in front of my desk and suddenly I’m glad she’s here to witness me opening the package. I didn’t tell her anything about last night. Hell, I didn’t tell anyone. She probably thinks I’m acting funny.
Tearing off the paper, she watches me, amused. I make light work of the wrapping and open the box. Inside, nestled upon black tissue paper, sits a pocket knife about six inches long.
“Wow, that’s one fancy knife. What a strange gift.” Her brow quirks and I couldn’t agree with her more.
“I know, right? Who gives you a knife as a present?” A gangster, that’s who.
“Apparently, Mr. Secret Admirer does.” She shrugs. “Is there a card this time?” The phone up front starts to ring and she rolls her eyes. “I’ll be back.”
“K.”
Once she’s gone, I pull the knife out, palming the smooth silver surface. Underneath is the gray cardstock that’s become a staple with Thaddaeus’ gifts.
Bella,
To protect you from the shadows.
T.M.
&nb
sp; Motherfucker. If I weren’t in my office, I’d scream; I’m so confused, irritated, curious, and frustrated inside. What the fuck does he want from me? I knew it was him last night, bastard! The nerve of this man is absolutely astounding. I want to open the knife and drive it into his hand, after he grabbed me last night. I want to use the heavy weapon and chuck it at his face—he has me so upset. And that note, is he trying to give me flipping nightmares?
Feeling something on the other side of the knife against my palm, I flip it over. There’s an inscription:
For in love and war comes strength. I’ll be yours.
How in the hell can he say something like this after last night? Those words would’ve landed him a date with me in a heartbeat had he not scared me so badly last night. They’re beautiful and seem so meaningful. I would love to have a man say them to me, but under different circumstances.
Am I being a wimp about the whole thing?
I don’t think I’m being irrational. He pulled me into a dark alley for heaven’s sake and wouldn’t even let me speak, then he almost-kind-of threatened me. Sure, there was a warning in his words as well. Was he really trying to protect me? What do I have to be afraid of besides him? Is he so dangerous that he has to secretly warn me? I thought I was being fucking kidnapped, attacked, violated, and yet maybe I’m taking the whole thing wrong? And what about his guard dog, Maximillian, earlier at the police station? Surely, he told Thaddaeus he saw me there and about our conversation.
I feel like my head’s going to explode if I don’t get some answers soon. Wrapping my hand around the knife so no one can see it, I make my way outside. Once the cold air hits me, my skull falls back against the brick building and the tears flow freely. I hope whoever he has watching me can see how upset he’s made me. I hope they tell him that right after his delivery that I was outside crying my eyes out. He sends me this … stuff without any real explanation. All I’d really like at this point is an apology.
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