I gasp, my hand flies to my throat. I never leave this door open. I pause at the top of the stairs and contemplate going in. Bucky continues through the door, it’s quiet, too quiet. I peak inside and grab the flashlight underneath my key table and rush in. Bucky storms through my apartment, and goes straight to my room and then into my closet, sniffing at the ground the entire time.
The apartment appears to be empty, but someone could still be hiding. Bucky emerges from my closet. I run to my bathroom and hit the light switch, empty. I turn to my bedroom and peer in. My bedroom window is wide open! Bucky is at my side in an instant. My mouth pops open. I’m stunned...someone was definitely here!
Why on earth would anyone break into my shop? I have nothing of monetary value! This is my safe place...and now? I drop to my knees and have a full-blown panic attack, one hand covers my face and the other grabs hold of Bucky’s collar. He sits obediently next to me as I try to breathe in and out.
A gentle knock on the door startles me, I scream and Bucky pounces.
It’s Vincent. I don’t bother getting up from the floor. Bucky seems to have forgotten our intruder, and goes in search of affection from Vincent.
Fucking dog.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” His voice is alarmed and protective. It warms my heart despite the fact that I want to be angry with him. I’m completely lost and shocked. I look up at him from the floor, my eyes wide, and I bury my face back into my hands and continue to steady my breathing, rocking slowly back and forth. I know I probably look insane.
His arms wrap around me. I instantly feel comforted by his touch. The instinct to pull away from him is set aside as I feel the calm he brings slowly seeping into me.
“Someone—someone was here. I don’t know how they came in.Bucky was in the backyardI didn’t put him back there. My bedroom window, Vincentit was wide open.” I manage to spew out in a stutter.
He picks me up off the floor, I relish the feel of my cheek pressed against his firm chest; I feel weightless in his arms. He gingerly places me onto my couch, as though I were as fragile as glass. He grabs Bucky and does a more thorough search of the apartment, and then the downstairs. He comes back up to the apartment a few minutes later. His expression is icy. I watch as he crumples a paper into his pocket. My cell phone is in his other hand.
“This is for emergencies. Don’t go anywhere without it.” He shoves the phone into my hand firmly. His tone is raw and unyielding.
I say nothing, for now, and put it into my blazer pocket. The mystery of the cell phone is finally solved.
“I’m staying here with you tonight, in case anyone comes back.”
I start to shake my head in protest. He raises his hand to silence me.
“I’m either staying here, or you’re coming home with me,” he whispers menacingly.
I roll my eyes. Pfft, fat chance.
There is just way too much happening in my life right now. I peer up at Vincent, ready to remind him of our earlier conversation, but he cuts me off. “We’ll resume that conversation later.”
Mind reader. I narrow my eyes at him.
“You sure you didn’t leave the back door unlocked?”
“I always keep it locked. My apartment door, I know for sure I closed and locked before I left. Bucky was fast asleep in my closet. And my window, I never open it. It can’t be a coincidence or an oversight.”
“Any idea who it could have been? Jordan? Maybe he came in and put Bucky out back?”
“No. He knows where my spare key is. He would have used that and come through the front, and he wouldn’t have left Bucky outside. If he had, he would have left me a note.”
Vincent sits next to me. His body is taught with anger; his mouth is a hard, flat line. We sit in silence, I watch him seethe, and turn thoughts over in his mind.
“Any word on the guy from the club?” Perhaps that’s why he is so angry.
“No,” he snaps irritably. “His place was empty. His wife and kids are gone. So he’s alone. He must be…very angry, and unstable,” he sighs in frustration.
I wonder what he did exactly, the shooter that is. What landed him in this situation in the first place? And I wonder how Vincent relates to the whole investigation and what evidence it was that he had. I have a million questions that I don’t dare toaskVincent seems reluctant to elaborate.
Anger boils within him at the mention of the subject. It must be unsettling, at the very least, to have someone pull a gun on you. I try not to think of what could have happened. It’s disturbing how disheartened I feel at the thought of someone hurting him. Especially at a time like this when my own world seems to have been turned upside down.
I’m brought back to the now as I glance back towards my bedroom and see the opened window.
“I can’t believe someone broke into my apartment! I mean...look around you. I don’t have anything to steal. Who would want to steal from a second-hand store?”
Vincent lowers his eyes. “Nothing was taken?”
“I don’t think so.” I get up quickly, remembering my safe. I practically run downstairs. Vincent follows after me.
I go to my safe, and unlock it. It’s hidden behind a drawer in the kitchen. I have to pull the drawer all the way out to get to it. I open it up and examine the contents. Money, bundled upI have close to ten grand now. I’m saving to try to expand my shop. It won’t be happening anytime soon. I need about ten times this much for my vision to come to life. I want the ground floor to be nothing but clothing, and the upstairs to be a lounge, with books, furniture and household items for sale. Where I’ll live if or when that happens is still a mystery. I know for sure I don’t want to move back in with Maggie.
“Lenore, that needs to be in a bank, earning interest,” he sounds appalled.
I look up at him as though he has just spoken Chinese. He shakes his head at me, “We’ll talk about that later, too.”
I keep rifling through my meager belongings. I come across an old and worn photo of my mother. She must be fourteen or so, she’s riding a horse. I love this photo. Her expression is pensive, her gorgeous long hair in a braid, hanging down over her shoulder. This photo is the one I bring forward in my mind when I remember her at her worst.
I move to put it back into the box, but Vincent snatches it from my hands to examine it.
“She looks like you, your mom. She’s beautiful,” he says wistfully.
I snatch the photo back and place it back into my safe. I’m being childish, but I don’t want him to look at the measly, paltry belongings in my safe. I lock it and put it back into its not-so-secret hiding spot. I’ll need to find a new place to stash it.
My stomach growls despite all of my anxiety and inner turmoil. Great. Vincent leaves me sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor and comes back into moments later carrying two containers of food. I’m still on the floor when he returns. He goes in search of plates and utensils. I still don’t get up; I rest my back against my kitchen cabinets and watch him putter around my kitchen. He’s totally at ease with himself, totally comfortable invading my small space. He places the plates on the table and puts the contents of the boxes onto each plate.
“Get up. Eat.” He holds out a fork. I take it from his fingers and reluctantly stand. My body feels stiff and disjointed. A side effect of my anxiety attack I’m sure. The smell of food fills my tiny kitchen and overwhelms all of my senses and my stomach does a somersault. My nerves are shot, but I can always eat. I dig in. Vincent breaks the silence first.
“I was very surprised to hear about how you came to know my brother.” He looks up at me, expectantly.
I arch an eyebrow and tilt my head to one side in silent query; I don’t want to give too much away. I don’t know how much he knows.
“We had a family meeting today, which has never happened. Needless to say, we were all quite shocked.”
“What exactly did Benny say?”
“He’s in love with your friend, Jordan. I’m sure you
know that. I have no idea why. Gay or not, Jordan isn’t really a likable guy.”
I ignore his quip, and finish the rest of my meal, and wait for him to continue.
“My mother is taking it hard. She didn’t respond well.”
Shocker.
“What about Viola?” I ask.
“Ah, she on the other hand went on sipping her Bloody Mary as if it wasn’t news to her,” he laughs.
I’m guessing keen Viola knew all along.
“She must have known, or at the very least, she must have suspected it. I know I didn’t. I’ve always seen Benny with girls—lots of them. He talks about them…all the time.My father”
I brace myself, I really like Edmond, but if he’s going to be angry or disappointed in Benny it will be difficult to see him in the same light. Especially since he and Benny seem to have such a good relationship.
“He actually cried and hugged Benny. Said he’d love him…no matter what.” He sighs and scoffs. I watch him run his hands through his neat hair. Fuck, I want to reach out and touch him so bad.
Vincent seems stunned by his father’s reaction, as am I, but I’m also relieved. At least Benny has a few family members in his corner. Vincent’s eyes are downcast, I watch him churn the news over in his mind. I’m sure it’s hard to process. It must have been very emotional for all of them.
“And…what about you?” I know he’s got to be thrown by this. His baby brother, the “womanizer” who fucked his ex-girlfriend, is gay! Not just that, he is dating my best friend, whom Vincent doesn’t really care for. I frown.
“I don’t know what to think. I’ve seen him as a dog his whole life. To think it was all a show. It’s confusing…I’m sure he’s even more confused than I am. To think, my little brother has been livinga lie. It” he stops abruptly and glances up at me nervously. “It’s fine, I mean. I don’t have a problem. It’ll take time for me to wrap my head around.”
He stands and takes our dishes to the sink.
I know all about what it is to be living a lie. It’s exhausting. It can be terribly confusing. Not to mention, it takes over every aspect of your life. That’s the exact reason I try my best to remain distant from people. My lifemy lie, it complicates things. Complicates relationships. I squint up at Vincent as he stands at my sink and stares out of the window. His profile is a thing of beauty.
I sigh, and my posture crumbles as I give in to my emotional upheaval. My life is so very burdensome.
Before going upstairs, Vincent makes sure all the doors and windows are locked and secured. We both try to make sense of how they could have gotten in, and lured Bucky outside. It’s strange. Why didn’t Bucky attack? Perhaps they used my hidden key? No, it’s in the exact same spot where I left it last night. In a new hiding spot that not even Jordan knows about yet. If they didn’t steal anything, then why bother breaking in? Suppose they wanted me? I feel a rush of blood prickle behind my neck. I wrap my arms around myself protectively.
Vincent will stay here, for yet another night, prolonging the illusion of this non-relationship-relationship further complicating matters. I do my best not to feel comforted by his presence, though, I don’t know what I would do if he wasn’t here.
I’m sure Jordan is with Benny tonight, and Kazumi is no doubt trying to sort out the trouble with The Speak Easy. I would be alone if it wasn’t for Vincent.
It’s 9 o’clock when I pass out on the couch. Vincent has his laptop out and is fast at work, typing away. The clicking of the keys puts me to sleep. I’m vaguely aware that I am being carried to bed, and blankets are pulled over me...I’m gone, dead asleep seconds later.
Chapter 16
I am alone in The Speak Easy. There is no music. I can only hear my harsh erratic breath echoing off the walls. The lights twinkle all around me, reflecting off of the shiny black tile floor. The bar is emptyexcept for Vincent. His elbow rests on the bar top as he faces towards me. His posture is relaxed and confident. A look of serenity rests upon his face, but it quickly morphs and transforms into a look of absolute horror.
I feel my stomach drop as fear overtakes me. He’s reaching out to me, but is getting further and further away. A gunshot blasts and the room goes completely dark. My name is the last thing I hear Vincent say, his voice echoes and vibrates off the walls. The clear blue of his eyes is swallowed up by blackness and he is gone. Gone forever.
My eyes fly open. I’m covered in slick sticky sweat. It’s eerily quiet. My heart thuds violently insidemy chest, I sit up quicklyVincent, where is he? My nerves are on end, anxiety rolls through me.
“Vincent!” I choke out. I feel my body shuddering and trembling with unease.
Vincent runs into the room a second later, his eyes wide. He looks around, his hair, a sexy mess. He’s in his white shirt, buttons undone. When he sees the room is empty, he runs his hands over his face in an attempt to rub out the sleep.
“What is it? Are you alright?” He sits at the edge of my bed and watches me carefully. I’m still fully dressed. I need to get rid of a few layers. I’m still damp with sweat. Goddamn nightmares, they’re coming with more frequency now.
I stand and take my blazer off, and let it fall to the floor. I follow his eyes as they reach my chest. My white tank top is nearly sheer. He remains seated, perfectly still, but I watch him swallow with difficulty. I scoot out of my jeans and leave them on the floor next to my bed. I’m in my panties and this translucent tank, nipples hard, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.
It’s a warm November night, made only warmer by the fact that I am hungry for Vincent. I stoop down and plug in the pink string lights that hang over my bed. I reserve their use for the nights that I’m afraid. This is one of those nights.
The pink lights cast a rosy glow onto both of us. He sits there, immobilized, unsure of what to do with me. My mood has been difficult to keep up with, I’m sure he’s confused and confounded by me. I move to stand before him, my thighs pressed against his knees. He slowly lifts his hands, as though he is wary of me. I don’t move. I simply gaze at him, giving him an unspoken okay to touch me. I pull my hair down from my bun and let is tumble down my back. His left hand moves to my hip, pulling me closer to him, his other hand strokes my hair softly.
I look into his eyes, made violet, thanks to the light. They scorch me from the inside out. His eager longing displayed vividly as his lids grow heavy. He digs both of his hands into my hips and jerks me forward between his legs. His head collapses onto my chest. He breathes me in deep. My hands tangle into his unruly hair. I do my best to keep my heart far away, concentrating only on the tightness forming in my core, the throbbing ache between my legs.
This ache is still so new, yet becoming more familiar. It’s the ache that only Vincent can bring out in me. Only he can subdue the raging tide of longing. Only he can quench this impassioned thirst swelling inside of me.
He brings his mouth to my breast, softly sinking his teeth over my nipple. He sucks me over my shirt. I gasp and let my head fall back. My mouth goes dry as the heat from his mouth sears my skin. My nipples tighten and harden further. He lifts me and throws me onto the bed. His hand pushes my shirt up over my swollen breasts; he strokes each one in turn. He studies me for a few long and agonizing moments; I can see he is still unsure of what direction my mood will swing next.
I push my chest out against his hands and he stoops down and trails his lips across my sternum. His tongue expertly rolls over each nipple, sucking, nipping and biting each with extraordinary care. I moan again, my hips swaying of their own accord.
My hands reach out for him, cupping his jaw, I pull his face toward me and I kiss him, hard. I feel him relax as he deepens our kiss. His stubble grazes my over-sensitive skin. I tilt myself up against him and slide his shirt off of his shoulders.
I begin unbuttoning his pants, tugging them down along with his briefs, over past his fine rear end. Using my foot, I push them the rest of the way down. I grip his buttocks in my hands, and push him
against me.
He groans into my mouth and I bite down softly on his lip. I can feel his erection digging into me. I delight in the feel of his warmth and his smooth skin pressed against mine. His skin feels soft as velvet as he moves over me. His stubble caresses my neck as he slides down my body. He kneels between my legs and slowly peels my panties away. Inserting one finger, he circles me slowly. It’s a hypnotic rhythm. My hips rise and fall with each stroke. I can’t contain myself. My body writhes provocatively with each thrust and rotation of his nimble fingers.
He pushes my right knee up and glides his mouth over to envelop my sex. I can feel him breathing me in, sending chills throughout my entire body as he inhales me deeply. His tongue begins to caress and circle that spot, that sweet spot that is begging to be stroked, and my mind goes unreservedly blank.
The physical sensation of his mouth pressed against my pussy is divine. Pleasure spikes through me, sending my every nerve on high alert. My back arches involuntarily and one hand reaches out to clutch his hair. My other hand strokes and teases my breast. I roll and pull my nipple as I push myself into his warm, wet and sumptuous mouth.
It doesn’t take long for my legs to begin shaking, I feel light-headed and dizzy. This is euphoria. Foreign sounds escape from my lips, I don’t sound like myself. This wanton creature I become when I am with Vincent is yet another side to me that I am getting to know. I let go and explode, my eyes are wide open, but I can’t see a thing. My toes curl in and I’m blinded by my orgasm, I’m a shaking quivering leaf as the intensity overtakes my every sense.
His warm and firm body covers mine almost instantly. He is completely naked as I wrap my arms and legs around him like a vine. I know I am treading on dangerous territory. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. But there is something about Vincent, something about being with him physically. He completely obliterates my good sense. As he enters me, any doubts I have, vanish. He pushes his substantial length into me, and my body accepts him without question. I feel myself tighten around him. My body starts to climb again instantly, that delicious build up starts rolling through me.
Black Burlesque Page 26
