Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

LUCILLE

Anger consumes me.

I know it should be directed at Theron, but I can’t help it. I’m fucking pissed at Emmie. I hate her. I hate everything about her, but mostly, I hate that she has Theron. That’s what I hate the most.

Even though I know her shit is sketchy as hell and that her family is, too, it doesn’t compare to the fact that she has Theron. She has the one thing that I want. Even if he’s only with her for some kind of vendetta, which is what it seems,

After a restless night, I force myself out of bed and into the kitchen. I make a cup of coffee and walk over to the window and look at everything and nothing. Lifting my cup to my lips, I take a drink. The warm liquid slides down my throat, and I can’t stop thinking about my visit with Theron.

Turning around, I walk over to my phone that’s sitting on the kitchen counter and pull up my fake social media. Finding Emmie’s name, I scroll through all the photos and videos of last night. One catches my eye.

There’s a photo of Theron standing in the background while I’m off to the side as Charlie and Emmie take a selfie. Theron’s eyes are focused on me. The way he’s watching me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at me like that.

It’s love.

Pure love.

My breath hitches at the sight.

He does love me. I can see it in his eyes. I can feel it in my soul. Downloading that picture to my phone, I crop it so that I can always keep him close to me. So that I can see the love in his eyes. Even if I’m not able to have him in person, I can watch from a distance and look at this photo.

Once the picture is downloaded onto my phone, I do something that I should have done a long time ago. I delete my fake profile. I confirm everything and then place my phone back down on the counter.

Finishing my coffee, I place my cup down and walk back into my bedroom. I start the shower, step inside, and close my eyes as the warm water washes over my body. Letting out a heavy sigh, I wash my hair. I have work tonight.

Once I’ve finished showering, I dress in something comfortable and head out of the apartment for grocery shopping. I can’t remember the last time I went, but I’ve been so obsessed with Theron and Emmie that I haven’t been taking care of myself.

It’s time for me to start doing that.

As I walk through the aisles of Harris Teeter, I put a few things in my cart. I grab some fruit, cheese, and salami, and then I put in a box of cookies, but they don’t seem very appealing. Rounding out my shopping, I add some coffee creamer and a new box of coffee pods.

When I check myself out, I wince at the cost. It’s fifty bucks. It’s not even going to feed me for a few days, let alone a whole week. I’m not sure I care, though. This wasn’t really about food as much as it was about distracting me and getting me out of the apartment.

Taking my bags from the cart, I carry them out to my car. As I drive home, I try to think of anything else, but I’m stuck on Theron and Emmie. I hate them together. Her family is suspicious, but for what? I don’t know, and it’s killing me.

Pulling into my apartment parking spot, I gather my things before I head upstairs, but something causes me to pause. I look over my shoulder, in the middle of the staircase, and try to find the thing that is out of place.

I see nothing.

However, there is one thing that does not match the rest of the parking lot.

A fancy black BMW. Granted, I don’t live in the bad part of town, but none of my neighbors are driving luxury cars like that.

It catches me off guard.

Then my heart starts to race because Theron has told me more than once that whatever it is he’s doing is dangerous, and I don’t need to be seen near him or as associated with him… except he was here just a few hours ago.

As much as I want to find out who is behind the wheel of that car, I decide that Theron warned me off for a reason, and I need to go ahead and do what he asked. I already took the first step and deleted my fake social media account.

Continuing up the stairs, I make sure to lock my front door behind me—quickly. After I’ve finished putting my groceries away, I walk over to my sofa and sink down on the cushions. I turn on the television. It’s the only thing that could possibly help me keep my mind off that car.

But after I’m an hour into a movie that I haven’t actually been watching, I know it doesn’t matter what I’m doing; it’s going to bother me. I debate texting Theron. The way he left here made his point pretty clear. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. So I don’t do that.

Instead, I get ready for work. I’ll be a little early… by two hours, but my boss won’t care. I haven’t even seen her in person in over a year, anyway. In fact, she might be pleasantly surprised that I showed up at the office before it was cleared out for the evening.

So that’s what I do, the whole time thinking about that car and whoever is behind the wheel of it.

THERON

Keeping sharp, I take in my surroundings, looking for Lucille. I don’t see her anywhere, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t watching me. Apparently, she’s been doing so for as long as I’ve been watching her.

I have no right to be pissed at her, and truthfully, I’m not. There is something absolutely beautiful about her obsessing over me as much as I have been obsessing over her. But she needs to stay away right now for her own safety.

I’m not sure when this shit is going to be done. Walking toward the back of the Willow Club, I am again fully wired as I wait for Asher and Victor to appear. Ravet was supposed to be there last night, but he was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no transfers of product. I stayed with Asher until everyone went their separate ways and headed home.

Now, I’m supposed to set up a more sophisticated system for their surveillance. One that will not be monitored the same way as their club’s system that is already in place.

This whole thing makes me feel sick as fuck to my stomach, but on the other hand, I’m inside, and I’m going to do everything I can to get every single angle. I want an inside view of what they’re doing when I can’t physically be here.

The back door of the club opens after I wonder if I’ve been stood up, and Victor jerks his chin in my direction. There are two other men standing a few feet behind him. I recognize them both. They are the other partners of the Willow Club.

If I thought Asher was somehow running this shit behind their backs, I know now that isn’t the case. They are all clearly in on it, which makes me wonder what exactly the art gallery is for.

“We haven’t met you yet,” Ron Vale says, taking a step toward me.

Pretending not to know exactly who he is, I extend my arm to shake his hand and introduce myself. “Emmie runs the gallery for me. She should be down here any moment so you can go over exactly what we’ll be doing here today.”

“Emmie?” I ask.

This is a turn of events that I wasn’t expecting. “Emmie,” Ron confirms. “She does all of the paperwork for the deliveries. She knows what goes where, and she keeps track of the money. It’s why I have her in the gallery, so she can do it all right there on the computer.”

That makes much more sense.

“And the gallery?” I ask.

His lips twitch into a smirk as he arches his brow. “Exactly what you think it is, nothing but a front.”

This man, all of them, really, think they are so fucking smart. Granted, they got me with Emmie being part of it, but the rest is seriously par for the course. Instead of responding verbally, I dip my chin and rock back on my heels right as Emmie walks through the door.

My plans of getting rid of her sooner rather than later have just been foiled. I have a feeling that I’m not going to be able to scrape her off any time soon. I want to stay on the inside of this shit, and that pisses me off because the more I’m away from Lucille, the more I want her.

“Hey, baby,” Emmie coos as she walks straight up to me and places her lips on my cheek.

I’ve done well to keep my distance from her lately sexually, but I’m not sure how much longer that can last without raising her suspicions. I’m going to have to fuck her soon, and it’s the absolute thing that I do not want to do right now—the only person I can think about fucking is Lucille.

Instead of responding to her, I wrap my hand around her waist and squeeze her gently before I focus my attention on Ron, Victor, or anyone else. She wraps both of her arms around me like this is some kind of cute couple thing.

I cannot wait to be rid of this bitch.

“Let’s get started on where and what we need our sights on at all times,” Victor announces.

Without another word, I dip my chin, silently thankful to get to work. Moving away from Emmie, I follow behind Victor. Lifting my tablet up, I take the stylus out of the holder and get started on what and where they want things, and then I make my own notes on where and what I’m going to put my own devices—because fuck them.

It doesn’t take long for me to go through their entire basement system. And then the loading and unloading area that I had no idea existed. I make extra notes in this area because if I’m going to catch any human trafficking, it will be right fucking here.

Granted, it hasn’t been mentioned to me yet, just the drugs, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t doing it. Just the name Ravet being mentioned by any of these people makes it clear that it’s happening. I just have to get eyes on him—and audio. I need to see him in person, in the fucking flesh.

Then I need to hold him. Tie him up and torture him. I want every piece of information he has stored in his evil fucking brain. After that, we go after the others—all of them. We end this shit and keep children from being abused the way we were.

Call it vigilante justice, or whatever the fuck it is, but we need to get to the top of this pyramid.

And we will.

No matter how long it takes and no matter how many people we have to kill to get there.

Once I’m finished taking all of my notes, I thank everyone for their time. Turning to Victor, I explain to him that I need to order supplies and that I’ll contact him when I’m ready to do the install.

“You’ll be doing it yourself, I trust?” Victor asks.

As much as I want to tell him that, honestly, they could not fucking afford for me to do it myself, I know I need this more than they need me to do it. So I agree and then kiss Emmie on the cheek before I leave.

I need to get the fuck away from these people as soon as humanly possible. I head back to the office and go straight to the surveillance room. I know that Hale has been watching my every move; he’s also recorded it, and we’re going to spend the rest of the afternoon strategically planning the installation.