“Yours.” Snuggling into him, I close my eyes and breathe him in. The minutes pass like this and he never complains, letting me relax until the last aftershock rocks my frame and I can find my strength. “I’m going to head up now and take that shower.”
His chuckle makes me smirk. “My apologies for holding you back.”
“Don’t worry. This is the best kind of delay.”
After taking a quick shower, I come downstairs still feeling light as a feather and calm. My red hair is wet, the tendrils sticking to my back, and I’m wearing a lilac crop top sans bra. I’m dressed to relax and then bed, but what I find at the bottom of the stairs is a tense man who eyes me with hunger.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, stopping on the same step he made me come on.
He notices this, and the harsh look melts into a sly grin. “Yes and no.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does to me.” He takes the steps between us, stopping when we’re almost eye to eye. “Yes, because you’re here. Because I can still smell you all around me.”
I swallow hard. “And the no?”
“Because unfortunately, I need to leave.” Disappointment fills me but I shake it off, keeping my expression neutral. “I’m sorry, love. There’s been a family emergency that needs my immediate attention.”
Family. Of course he has one. I just never asked. He didn’t offer either, but what if—
“Are you married?” I blurt out, my chest caving in at the mere thought. How could he? How could I? “Am I…?”
“You’re the only,” he says, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks. His touch is comforting, gentle and caring. Moreover, there’s this exciting spark flowing through his touch. It’s pleasant and fills my chest with warmth. I like it. Him. And everything he represents, even though my life isn’t in any place where I should pursue a relationship. “That will never change, Gabriella. Please believe me on this.”
“I do.” Blindly. Stupidly. With him, I find myself following my intuition with caution. “So your family? Are they okay?”
“Just a minor incident that needs to be cleaned up.”
“Cleared up, you mean?”
“No.” With his eyes on my face, he pulls me to the edge of the steps and against his lips. Once. Twice. His sweeps them back and forth before pausing. “Cleaned up is the right terminology in this instance. Someone has been hurt, and it’s up to me to clear their name and forcefully right this wrong.”
“Forcefully? Are you going to fight someone?”
“It would never be a fair fight.” Dropping his hands, Theo steps back and puts a bit of space between us. “Now, I’ll be out of the city limits, but Tero and Meera are only a phone call away. They know to stay vigilant and come right away if anything happens.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s for my peace of mind. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, beautiful.” His eyes travel slowly from my hair to toes and back up again twice, unapologetic in his actions. “I’ll be back soon. Staying away isn’t an option.”
“Then I’ll hold you to that.” It’s a breathy whisper and his hands clench, nose flaring once before he turns to leave. Theo doesn’t look back, and I’m left a little achy, needy, and decide to go to sleep instead of watching TV.
The sooner I go to sleep, the sooner he’s back.
30
Gabriella
After locking the front door and checking all the others on this floor, I make myself a cup of tea and head upstairs. The house is quiet. I’m missing the tinkling of Mr. Pickles’s collar and small nails on my floor. I’m missing the calm—peace—that being home once brought me.
But now that I’m alone, I see the differences. Take note of the endless quiet. Understand how no one would hear my scream if something were to happen.
It hits me, now that Theo isn’t standing as my protector, how much has been taken from me. My security. My mental health. The ability to walk around my home without looking behind me or outside the windows.
“I hate this,” I say out loud, my hands trembling a bit. The longer I stand in front of my bedroom door, the more uncomfortable I feel.
My mind flicks through the last few weeks; a sick movie reel flipping through each horrific moment. Tim. The snake. The picture of the dead body and the words attached, and each one has this house as the common link.
I should sell. Get out and don’t look back.
But what would that solve?
Am I really being stalked, or is this a fucked-up coincidence? Why aren’t the police making a bigger deal out of it?
I’m alone.
“I need to work. Keep busy.” Because there’s no way I’ll go to sleep anytime soon. The what ifs will keep me from doing so. “Work. Set up and work.”
Turning away from my door, I walk to my studio and turn on the lights. Everything’s where I left it, with a painting still on the easel and each color I’ll need on the small table next to it. However, my water cups for dirty brushes are empty, and before I fill them, I decide to open the window.
It’s warm in here. A bit stuffy, and I don’t hesitate to spread the curtains apart and lift the pane. And it’s as I do, that I look across the yard and find two glowing sets of eyes.
They watch me. Unblinking.
And the last thing I remember is feeling faint and tripping in my haste to move, hitting my head on something hard.
It’s early morning when I come to and I’m still on the floor, my head pounding. It hurts so bad, and the position I’m in has left me with a sore neck. But it’s worse when I stand. Jesus, it’s so much worse, and my limbs—my entire frame—is jittery and unbalanced. There’s also a tender spot near my temporal bone and when I touch it, I find dry blood there with a small gash beneath.
“What the hell happened?” My eyes sweep the room, and I find nothing out of place but the small wooden stepping stool that I use to reach the top of my supply closet. It’s not in its usual place and I don’t remember leaving it here, but it’s obvious that I fell and hit my... “Oh shit!”
Turning, I rush to the still-open window with the sun barely lighting up the early morning sky and search the yard for those two sets of eyes. For anything that proves I’m not crazy. That I haven’t lost my mind within the carnival show my life has become.
Nothing. There’s nothing.
No animal within the foliage, but I know what I saw and they were not human eyes.
Could it be the snake? An owl, maybe?
“If I call this in, it could blow up in my face.” Like with the picture. Rubbing my sore forehead, I wince, but it helps alleviate a little of the mounting pressure. This is going to take more than a few ibuprofens to get through the day. “Coffee. Lots of coffee and pain meds.”
My reality and dreams and everything in between are a blur of crazy moments that are weighing heavy on me, and I miss Theo. Miss his smile and scent and the ease in which I forget the world around me when he’s near.
I close the window and survey the back once again, finding nothing, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. It’s easier to chalk this up to I hit my head and dreamed of eyes than the alternative. It’s probable, not far-fetched, and I’ll stick to it unless proven otherwise.
“Sounds good to me.” With my plan in place, I head to my room and closet to change. If I leave now, I can be back within the hour and pick up where I never began yesterday: painting. More so because I’m not trying to attract attention and slip into a large pair of overalls with a navy and white striped V-neck underneath.
There’s a little cafe near here that I visit every once in a while, with an amazing bagel selection that has my name all over it. That, and I’m going to need a triple shot of everything with a side of more caffeine to get through this headache.
The cut isn’t large when I look at myself in the bathroom mirror a few minutes later, dabbing at the area with a wet towel. It’s about an inch long and won’t require stitches, so
small that a Band-Aid does the trick after I arrange my mass of bed-head hair into a bun at the nape of my neck. You can barely see it, the area not as swollen or bruised as I originally thought it’d be, and my fair complexion helps.
“Not bad at all.” With one last look after brushing my teeth, I head downstairs and out the door. It’s a good and sunny morning for a walk, and I could use a bit of time to clear my head because something inside me knows those eyes were real.
That I’m not crazy.
“That’ll be...” I don’t hear the rest as I’m paying attention to the person beside me. She smells of too much perfume and looks better than she did the last time we spoke, but still reeks of a bitterness that burns my nostrils. Is that really coming from her? The scent is a bit nauseating, but I manage to hand over my debit card to the employee with a smile on my face. “Your order will be ready in a few minutes, Miss. Under what name?”
“Gabriella,” Elise answers for me, her body moving a little closer. “Her name is Gabriella.”
“I can answer for myself,” I say, a fake smile on my face. Can I please catch a break here? Moving toward the pickup area, I stop behind an older couple who are too busy looking at some photo on the woman’s phone. Grandkids, I think. “Go away.”
“We need to talk.” There’s an urgency to her tone that puts me on edge. She’s not looking at me, but up ahead while holding her phone tight in her grip. “Now.”
“No.”
“This isn’t a request, Gabby. I’ve had enough of your shit.”
“Of my shit?” Her audacity makes me laugh, a loud sarcastic one that catches the attention of the couple and a few other people around us. “You’re still the same self-absorbed bitch you’ve always been, Elise. It’s always someone else’s mistake. Always someone else’s responsibility for your happiness and worth.”
“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”
“I just don’t care anymore.” The couple grabs their order and after giving us another side look, they walk out, leaving me at the front. “Nothing you say will make a difference in how I see you. We’re done.”
“You stole him from me,” she hisses, her hand gripping my forearm. The talons she calls nails dig in and I feel them break skin, but I keep the pleasant smile on my face as the lady with my order comes to the counter.
“Gabriella?”
“That’s me,” I say while snatching my arm from her grip before stepping up and taking my food and drink. The coffee is piping hot, and the bagels smell amazing; I can’t wait to get home and eat. Elise hasn’t moved, eyeing me, but I wave as I walk by her. “Have a nice life.”
The sun feels good on my skin as I step outside the busy cafe toward home, but before I can make it to the crosswalk, I’m pulled back by a hand on my arm. I almost stumble at the force they use, dropping my bagels, but somehow saving the coffee. The food is in a sealed box, and I yank my arm free once again, bending to grab it before looking at Elise.
Her perfume is unmistakable. She really stinks.
“You have two minutes before—”
“You’re going to drop the lawsuits, Gabby. Drop them, and disappear from Seattle, or I’ll be forced to remove you.”
“No.” I’m not sure which lawsuit she’s talking about since I’ve let Theo handle the copyright issue; we can’t do more than present my rightful ownership and wait for a judge to decide. Denying her, however, is bringing a smile to my face. I’ve had enough of her pushing me around. No more. “Don’t make this worse for yourself, Elise. You did this—” My words are cut off by a hard smack to the face, my head whipping to the side while I taste a bit of blood in my mouth. She caught me by surprise and my grip on my breakfast is tight enough not to drop them, but my coffee is done for. The squished cup has spilled, and my skin is red—hurts.
“You will do as you’re told, or that will look like a gentle pet compared to what I’m capable of.” Before I can stop her, she has my chin in her grasp and is tilting my face to inspect the damage. “Ruining your pretty face would be a pleasure, a motherfucking aphrodisiac, but I can’t afford to have attention on me right now.” Her face lowers to mine, her lips teasing my own. “Someday, though, I will.”
“Promise or threat?” I ask through squished lips.
Elise throws her head back and laughs. She’s deranged. “I’m going to miss your idiocy the most.”
“And I’m going to enjoy this.” Before she can ask, I throw my arm back and snap it forward, landing a punch square to her stomach with the mangled to-go cup—I make sure to spill the rest of my coffee on her. Elise doubles over, releasing my face, and clutches her midsection. And while she groans, I drop what’s left of my food on the ground with a longing look before bringing my knee up, landing the next blow to her face. “That looks painful,” I taunt, giggling a bit just to annoy her.
“You bitch,” she seethes, moving out of the way before I can kick her again. “I’m going to kill you, Gabriella. Mark my words, I’m going to—”
“What seems to be the problem here?” a female voice comes from behind me and Elise pales, stepping further back away from me while I look over quickly. Meera’s eyes meet mine and she winks before a stoic expression overtakes her pretty features. “I asked you a question, Miss Scott.”
“Nothing.” Her reply comes quickly—too obvious, and I snort. Elise’s hands clench at that, her posture almost coiling into herself. She’s afraid of Meera. “I tripped and my friend was helping me.” She looks away from Tero’s wife, and her eyes turn icy. “Nice to see you, Gabby, and thank you for the help.”
I don’t glare at her. Instead, my smile is saccharine sweet. “You’re welcome, and I’ll be ready when you are.”
My ex-best friend opens her mouth to say something, the nasty retort sitting on her tongue, but Meera pulls out her phone and takes a picture. “Mr. Astor will be hearing all about this friendly encounter, Miss Scott.”
“That’s unnecessary.” Elise coughs at that, a nervous gesture. Her eyes are also wide and alarmed. “I’m sure he has better things to do than worry about girlfriends catching up.”
“He doesn’t when it comes to her, Miss Scott.” Why did she emphasize her last name? “Have a nice day, and don’t make a habit out of tripping into people because there are loyal guards out there willing to return every favor tenfold.”
Their exchange is weirder than mine with Elise, and when my former friend hurries away as if Hades himself was after her, I look at Meera. “I need more than a vacation at this point.”
“I’d say you do,” she says, looking at my face where Elise hit me. Her eyes narrow and expression hardens, but she doesn’t ask. “But better times are coming, sweetheart. Trust me on this.”
“I’ll try.” I shrug. At the moment, it’s the best I can do. “But now, I’m going to double my coffee and bagel order so I can pig out when I get home. Are you interested in joining me?”
“Can’t. Tero’s waiting on me with Mr. Pickles at the park for a walk.”
“Ahhh, little guy must be loving that. What time are you dropping him off?”
“He is and later this evening. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine.”
Her concern is written all over her face, but I’m thankful she doesn’t question me. I have no doubt that her boss will do enough of that at some point. “My car is here, though. How about a ride instead before I meet the boys?”
“You don’t need to do that. This is a ten-minute walk—”
“I wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Go get your food.”
I laugh at that. “So bossy.”
“More like I’m loyal.”
31
King
I take in a deep breath and hold it as her scent infiltrates my senses. It owns me. Tortures me, and I’m here to return the favor.
I’m done waiting.
It’s time for my queen to rise while our enemy falls.
Pushing off the wall of her room, I stop at the edge of her
bed and place a knee on the mattress. It dips, accommodating my weight as I crawl a little closer, stopping just beside her unconscious body.
My pretty girl passed out an hour ago, due to exhaustion or maybe the sleeping pill she took out of desperation, I don’t know. Don’t care either. Not when I can lay beside her and touch, sliding a hand up her bare thigh while she’s uncovered.
But that’s a Gabriella thing. Every night without fail, she bundles up and then kicks the oversized comforter off a few hours later. It’s a trait I find sweet. Alluring.
Like her soft skin and scent. Like her intoxicating smile and green eyes, always so curious and fierce, but I know the demon that resides within—see her lurking behind that expressive stare—and I vow to bring her out. To bring her home.
Her small bikini panties are a lovely shade of pink tonight with just enough fabric to cover her sweet little clit while her labia peeks out. They look petal soft as I part her legs, and my mouth waters at the debauched sight of a tiny wet spot at the center.
“Motherfuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth, pulling the panties aside while enjoying the slow parting of those lips and the little hole I plan to break, worship, and pray to for the rest of my existence. “Mine.” The one word rumbles up my chest, shaking the bed slightly. “Always mine.”
My face lowers to her neck, and I place a small kiss there and then over the bruised skin from her altercation with her so-called friend. My poor beauty, so much pain and so much betrayal surrounds you. I trail my nose down her chest and the flat of her stomach, keeping my weight off her body. I’m barely touching her, keeping it featherlight until I stop just above her mound where I keep her underwear pushed aside. Many will bleed in your name; I promise you this.
Little Lies Page 20
