Gabe
Page 37
"Sasha hasn't been answering her phone. Kay was getting worried."
The first day, Sasha's phone had been ringing constantly. I knew that she'd called her family to let them know she wouldn't be coming by so I'd assumed that she'd called her friends, too.
"She's been sleeping a lot but she's feeling better now. I'm not sure if she's up to visitors though."
"Yet, you're here?" He raises an eyebrow.
Right. I'm not sure how to answer that so I focus on the basket in his hand. "You brought food?"
He looks down and then extends his arm, the dainty basket looking ridiculously small next to him. "Kay was worried about her being alone but I didn't want her to come and risk getting sick. It's just some blueberry muffins and a little container of macaroni and cheese that Kay made for her. It's Sasha's favorite."
"Comfort food. She's going to love this." I take the basket, unsure whether he's going to want to come in. His body language isn't the most welcoming but he hasn't done anything threatening. Yet.
He turns to go then stops and looks over his shoulder. "You're Tank's brother and that counts in your favor but Sasha is a friend. So if you're here for any reason other than the right ones, just be aware that I'm watching you. And I'm not the only one."
He turns and walks back down the drive, leaving me with a basket in my hands and a trash bag at my feet.
I walk back into the house and place the basket on the counter. It’s early and Sasha probably won’t wake up for a few hours. Especially since I kept her up late last night. Shame has my fist tightening around the edge of the counter. Sasha is a good girl, the kind that probably thought doggy style was inventive sex. My dick hardens just thinking about the prior night. I was demanding, barely giving her time to catch her breath between orgasms before I was working my way back inside her. No doubt she’ll be sore today as well.
It would be all well and good if I were the kind of guy who sticks around. The boyfriend type who would run her a bath to soak her sore muscles and spend the day cuddling and reassuring her.
But Eli’s visit just reminds me of the obvious. I’m not the boyfriend type and sticking around as long as I have is only going to make it harder when it’s time to leave. Harder for Sasha. Even though she thinks she can handle a little fun between the sheets, she’s not the type who can share her body and not her heart.
Worse, the more time I spend wrapped up in her world, with her sweet brand of affection, the harder it is for me to do the right thing: leave her alone.
* * * * *
It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I blow out a breath, eager to get this over with. While I’m waiting, I pull on a pair of thin black gloves. An image of Sasha, warm and cuddly in bed, runs through my mind. She’s probably just waking up now. Soon she’ll find my note.
Soon she’ll hate me.
I shake my head, refusing to allow myself to second guess the first rational thing I’ve done since the day I met her. It’s better she hates me than get hurt by someone aiming for me. What I’m about to do is further proof of how wrong I am for her.
A door slams across the street and I slide down further in my seat. Blade looks both ways up and down the street before he gets into the dark sedan parked at the curb. I don’t move as he pulls out, keeping my head carefully averted as he passes by.
As soon as his car turns the corner, I open my door. After glancing in both directions, I cross the street quickly, keeping my eyes on the building before me. I’m on alert for any signs of movement or life. I’ve seen no indication that anyone but Blade is here but that’s the kind of thing I can’t afford to be wrong about.
As soon as I reach the side door, I pause, struck with a moment of doubt. This feels like so much more than just picking a lock. It’s crossing a line, stepping back into waters I once swore I’d never enter again. But then I don’t really have a choice, do I? Max has brought this fight to my doorstep and the only choice I have is to fight back in the only way I can. With information.
“You weren’t kidding about being out of the game.”
At the sudden voice at my side, I jump back, fists at the ready. “What the hell are you doing, Cole? You just scared the shit out of me.”
“Didn’t take much. I wasn’t even trying to be quiet and I got the drop on you.” Cole is dressed similarly in dark jeans with a black hoodie pulled up over his head. His slightly reddish hair looks darker than usual.
“Whatever.” I fix him with a hard look. “Why are you here?”
“Call it curiosity. It was hard to get information on this dude. I figured you’d be by eventually.”
His face gives nothing away but I’ve known Cole so long that his carefully blank expression provokes a sense of dread. Although I have to give him respect. He maintains steady eye contact as he lies to me. Just like he taught me to do.
“So you’ve got spies watching this place?”
He shrugs. “I’ve got spies everywhere.”
I can only shake my head at the statement, knowing from experience how true it is, before I turn back to the door. The lock is old and presents little challenge. As soon as it clicks open, I cross the threshold and close the door silently behind us. It still looks like an old factory in here, with exposed beams and pipes in the ceilings and there’s a general air of disuse about it. Once my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, I walk down the hallway to the left, opening doors and peering into each room.
The first day, Sasha's phone had been ringing constantly. I knew that she'd called her family to let them know she wouldn't be coming by so I'd assumed that she'd called her friends, too.
"She's been sleeping a lot but she's feeling better now. I'm not sure if she's up to visitors though."
"Yet, you're here?" He raises an eyebrow.
Right. I'm not sure how to answer that so I focus on the basket in his hand. "You brought food?"
He looks down and then extends his arm, the dainty basket looking ridiculously small next to him. "Kay was worried about her being alone but I didn't want her to come and risk getting sick. It's just some blueberry muffins and a little container of macaroni and cheese that Kay made for her. It's Sasha's favorite."
"Comfort food. She's going to love this." I take the basket, unsure whether he's going to want to come in. His body language isn't the most welcoming but he hasn't done anything threatening. Yet.
He turns to go then stops and looks over his shoulder. "You're Tank's brother and that counts in your favor but Sasha is a friend. So if you're here for any reason other than the right ones, just be aware that I'm watching you. And I'm not the only one."
He turns and walks back down the drive, leaving me with a basket in my hands and a trash bag at my feet.
I walk back into the house and place the basket on the counter. It’s early and Sasha probably won’t wake up for a few hours. Especially since I kept her up late last night. Shame has my fist tightening around the edge of the counter. Sasha is a good girl, the kind that probably thought doggy style was inventive sex. My dick hardens just thinking about the prior night. I was demanding, barely giving her time to catch her breath between orgasms before I was working my way back inside her. No doubt she’ll be sore today as well.
It would be all well and good if I were the kind of guy who sticks around. The boyfriend type who would run her a bath to soak her sore muscles and spend the day cuddling and reassuring her.
But Eli’s visit just reminds me of the obvious. I’m not the boyfriend type and sticking around as long as I have is only going to make it harder when it’s time to leave. Harder for Sasha. Even though she thinks she can handle a little fun between the sheets, she’s not the type who can share her body and not her heart.
Worse, the more time I spend wrapped up in her world, with her sweet brand of affection, the harder it is for me to do the right thing: leave her alone.
* * * * *
It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I blow out a breath, eager to get this over with. While I’m waiting, I pull on a pair of thin black gloves. An image of Sasha, warm and cuddly in bed, runs through my mind. She’s probably just waking up now. Soon she’ll find my note.
Soon she’ll hate me.
I shake my head, refusing to allow myself to second guess the first rational thing I’ve done since the day I met her. It’s better she hates me than get hurt by someone aiming for me. What I’m about to do is further proof of how wrong I am for her.
A door slams across the street and I slide down further in my seat. Blade looks both ways up and down the street before he gets into the dark sedan parked at the curb. I don’t move as he pulls out, keeping my head carefully averted as he passes by.
As soon as his car turns the corner, I open my door. After glancing in both directions, I cross the street quickly, keeping my eyes on the building before me. I’m on alert for any signs of movement or life. I’ve seen no indication that anyone but Blade is here but that’s the kind of thing I can’t afford to be wrong about.
As soon as I reach the side door, I pause, struck with a moment of doubt. This feels like so much more than just picking a lock. It’s crossing a line, stepping back into waters I once swore I’d never enter again. But then I don’t really have a choice, do I? Max has brought this fight to my doorstep and the only choice I have is to fight back in the only way I can. With information.
“You weren’t kidding about being out of the game.”
At the sudden voice at my side, I jump back, fists at the ready. “What the hell are you doing, Cole? You just scared the shit out of me.”
“Didn’t take much. I wasn’t even trying to be quiet and I got the drop on you.” Cole is dressed similarly in dark jeans with a black hoodie pulled up over his head. His slightly reddish hair looks darker than usual.
“Whatever.” I fix him with a hard look. “Why are you here?”
“Call it curiosity. It was hard to get information on this dude. I figured you’d be by eventually.”
His face gives nothing away but I’ve known Cole so long that his carefully blank expression provokes a sense of dread. Although I have to give him respect. He maintains steady eye contact as he lies to me. Just like he taught me to do.
“So you’ve got spies watching this place?”
He shrugs. “I’ve got spies everywhere.”
I can only shake my head at the statement, knowing from experience how true it is, before I turn back to the door. The lock is old and presents little challenge. As soon as it clicks open, I cross the threshold and close the door silently behind us. It still looks like an old factory in here, with exposed beams and pipes in the ceilings and there’s a general air of disuse about it. Once my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, I walk down the hallway to the left, opening doors and peering into each room.
