Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

THERON

As much as I want to keep her right here with me and fuck her over and over, I know that isn’t possible, at least not right this moment. Maybe when all this shit blows over, whatever the hell it is, we can get back to this. Back to us. Because it’s clear that there is something here.

Something big.

Taking a step backward, I wince at the loss of Lucille’s warm heat. I tug up my pants, put myself back together. But she doesn’t move. Her hands grip the edge of my desk, keeping her from falling to the floor.

“We can’t do this again,” I announce. “For your safety.”

She lifts her head, her eyes find mine, and she holds my gaze with her own for a long moment, then dips her chin. I watch as she dresses, unable to move. I should probably feel guilty, but I don’t. Being inside of her again felt like coming home, and I’m not going to feel bad about that, not fucking ever.

“Seriously, forget about this shit, Lucille. Forget about me. This cannot happen again.”

She doesn’t say anything immediately. When her eyes find mine again, my whole body jerks at the sight of the expression on her face. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt Lucille, but this is to protect her.

Once she’s dressed, I watch as she moves toward me, her eyes searching mine as she does. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Those eyes are focused on mine, looking nowhere else. I have the urge to pull her into my arms again and kiss the fuck out of her.

“It was worth it,” she whispers.

Arching a brow, I don’t say anything. She doesn’t wait for me to speak anyway before she continues. “Being with you one more time was worth all of the heartache it causes to not have you.”

I’m not sure how to fucking answer that, so, like a pussy, I don’t. Instead, I watch as she turns around and walks out of my office. Then I send a text to Boden to let him know she’ll be leaving since he’s in charge of monitoring the doors today. It’s not like we get much foot traffic, but someone has to at least be available just in case.

Then I walk around my desk and sit down in my chair. I try not to imagine Lucille spread out over this desk. I only fucked her in one position, but I could think of a dozen different ways to make her come just on this desk alone.

My phone buzzes as my imagination begins to run wild in all the ways that I could make Lucille come. Glancing down at my phone, I grimace at the sight of the incoming text. It’s from Emmie. My cock is still wet from Lucille, and now I have to deal with Emmie.

EMMIE: I miss you, baby.

LUNCH?

Keeping my eyes on her is part of my plan, which means I have to spend as much time with her as humanly fucking possible, which I don’t want any goddamn part of. But I want Ravet more. I want him so badly that I can taste him.

I want to torture him.

I want to watch him bleed.

Watch him squirm.

I want to see the life drain from his eyes and know that it was me who did that.

EMMIE: I’ll be waiting.

Usually, I would say something like Warm your pussy up for me. I’m hungry . But I have zero desire to fuck Emmie right now. I am wholly and completely satisfied.

BE THERE SOON.

Grabbing the notebook that Lucille left on my desk, I stand and make my way toward the door. I need to go to the surveillance room and talk to Hale. I know he’s the one watching the club today. I don’t think Lucille’s notes hold any more information that we don’t already know, but I’m not going to keep them to myself, just in case they do.

I rap on the door. It opens, and I’m surprised to see that Boden is holding it open. “Got bored,” he murmurs. “My schedule is empty as fuck until next week. Then it’s packed as fuck.”

Chuckling, I clear my throat as I step into the room. “Sounds about right. It’s all or nothing every goddamn day.”

“Basically,” Boden says with a snort.

Walking over to the desk, I drop the notebook in front of Hale. He shifts his attention to meet mine, then smirks. “What the fuck is this?”

“This is why Lucille was here,” I state.

His eyes widen, and Boden clears his throat behind me. They both know who Lucille is and what we had together. She was the first taste of how sweet life could be after escaping the hell we were part of for all those years.

“That notebook is why she was here?” Hale asks.

My lips twitch into a smirk before I continue. “It was the reason she knocked on the door; it was not the only reason she stayed for a while.”

Boden snorts. “I thought you were keeping Emmie on a short fucking leash until this shit was handled, not fucking other women.”

“I am. It was a one-time thing. But back to that notebook. Lucille has been researching Emmie.”

Hale stands to his feet, likely a knee-jerk reaction. He slams his hands on the desk, his eyes finding mine. “What do you mean she’s been researching Emmie?” he demands.

“I have no idea why or how she even knew Emmie existed. But she got bad vibes and started digging. I told her to stop. But she knows who Asher Grant is. She knows that Emmie has ties to the Willow Club and that one of the partners owns the art gallery where she works, too. I don’t think she has any more than we do, but the fact that she even got that much…”

“Puts her possibly in danger,” Boden murmurs. “But also, maybe she needs a job here?”

LUCILLE

Like the bad bitch that I am, I wait until my butt hits the driver’s seat of my car before I burst into tears. And burst into tears is exactly what I do. Sitting in my car, I take a good thirty minutes to cry, then I calm myself down, sniffle a few times before wiping my eyes, and head home.

I need to work tonight, and I cannot be as exhausted as I was the other night. I have to get myself together and woman up. I knew without a doubt that this meeting with Theron wasn’t going to be easy, and the outcome was not going to be in my favor. I was right.

Like the masochist I am, I don’t go straight home. Instead, I drive downtown to the art gallery. I am just going to creep past and see if anything seems odd or out of place. Instead, I’m assaulted with the sight of Theron with his arm around Emmie’s waist as they walk down the street.

A car honks and I slam on my brakes as the person in front of me has their flashers on. Sinking low in my car, I flick my gaze over to see if Theron is looking at the commotion, but thankfully, he’s not.

The man who was inside of me less than an hour ago is now cuddled up with her, walking down the street in broad daylight. I hate myself for allowing him to affect me this way. He really shouldn’t, but he does. He always has.

Theron Henderson is the man who I will forever love. Nobody else will ever measure up to him. They couldn’t even if they tried.

And I’m not about to let that little conniving bitch have him.

Not today.

Not ever.

There is only one conniving bitch who deserves Theron, and that’s me.

Making my way back home, I wipe my tears because I now have a new mission. I’m not just going to ruin Emmie. I am going to decimate her. As I drive, I can’t stop thinking about Emmie and Theron.

Seeing them together was physically painful, especially after he had been with me literally minutes before. I never want to feel that way again.

Sure, it’s not Emmie’s fault that Theron and I slept together, but at the same time, I don’t want her to have him. And since it seems he’s not willing to get rid of her yet… I’m going to do my best to send her back to whatever nightmare she came from.

It doesn’t take me long to get home, especially since I’m driving in a daze. I don’t even realize that I’m at my apartment complex until my car is already in my usual parking space.

Once I shake myself out of my stupor, I head directly inside, lock the door, take a shower, and crawl into bed. It’s only lunchtime, but if I’m going to have my shit together for work, I’m going to need to sleep. And by shit together, I mean researching Emmie a little more.

I’m giving up my search on her background, on her father, and the Willow Club. Theron knows everything that I do about that now. I’m going to focus my attention on completely ruining her as a person.

It’s petty, and I know it’s wrong, but I also don’t care too much. I’ve never been a mean girl to anyone except the girls who Theron fucks, and I was never a bitch to their faces. I just cannot let anyone have him. It’s this thing inside of me. It’s festered to the point where I don’t know if there will ever be a cure. Well, other than him being mine and only mine until the day we die.

That I could handle.

Sleep comes a bit harder than I thought it would, especially after that orgasm, but seeing Theron and Emmie wound me all up again. I’m not sure how long I lie awake and how long I actually sleep, but when my alarm sounds for work, it startles me.

I sit straight up, and my breathing comes out in pants as I lift my hand to the center of my chest and attempt to catch my breath. In and out. In and out. I’m not sure why I’m so panicked, but thankfully, the breathing calms me down.

Forcing myself out of bed, I take another quick shower to rinse off the sleep, then throw my work clothes on and grab all of my things before I head out the door. By the time I arrive at work, I’m a little late, and the building is empty, leaving only me.

Usually, there are a few people working later than their own shift, and they stop and chat with me, but today, I’m all alone, which I prefer. I have some serious snooping and planning to do. It’s the only thing that is giving me the motivation to be here at work tonight.

Settling into my desk, I get to work so that the clock ticks and takes me to my break time. That is what I’m looking forward to tonight—my break. I have never been so focused on my job before. And once my alarm sounds, signaling it’s time, I push away from my desk with a heavy sigh.

Reaching out for my device, I turn the alarm off and begin my search. First things first, I go to her social media. I know that Theron doesn’t have one, but I have no doubt she is going to start posting pictures of him soon, especially with the whole salon thing and how they were walking down the street together in broad daylight. She’s not just someone he’s fucking anymore.

She’s his fucking girlfriend.

The thought makes me nauseous.

As her social media loads on my phone, the picture proof is right in front of my face. Narrowing my eyes on her pictures, I lift my hand and flip her off. I know she can’t see me, but I don’t care. It makes me feel better for the moment.

Touching on the comment section, I gag with all the comments about how cute they are together. Shaking my head, I try to send all the bad energy away and focus on the task at hand.

Then I see a comment that makes me smile. A brother. In all my research, I didn’t look at siblings. I was focused on the dad and the bitch. But, oh man, this could get interesting. I open his social media page and notice that it’s much barer than Emmie’s, except for one thing—he likes to check in… everywhere .

This could be exactly what I need to screw with her.