Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
My head’s full of him, and I hate it.
This is what he wants. He craves control in the same way I get off on relinquishing it. Jackal wants me obsessing about him and wondering if he can really see me.
The guy’s clearly a tech master. Once he left Cage, I asked around at security to see if they had any footage of him walking up the stairwell. But it turns out that there was some unexpected malfunction, and the entire system wasn’t recording during all the time we were there.
I asked to see the records of everyone that checked in. Fortunately, neither Angelo nor Claudia were there, so I didn’t have to answer any uncomfortable questions from them, although I’m sure those are coming. The manager, Rodrigo, gave me whatever I asked for, but all the names were well known members, except for one.
Jack L.
The clever bastard. Of course he used a fake name—and one he knew I’d find.
I was about to give up when the front desk girl came back into the security room. I guess Rodrigo asked her if she saw anything strange, and she remembered the guy with the jackal mask. “Tall, really muscular, and handsome. Dark hair, light eyes. Kind of an Italian look, you know? Really good-looking.” She hadn’t been able to give me more though, and I’ve been running her description through my head for hours now.
That narrows the suspects down. Jackal is a man connected to Chicago’s underworld—that’s the only way he would’ve known about my original art showing. He’s extremely good with computers. And he’s a handsome Italian.
I lean against my workbench. Frustration rolls down my shoulders. I check my email, but there’s no message from Jackal, even though I keep expecting him to send me something.
This silence is another way to tease me.
Or maybe that was our last meeting. Maybe he knows how exposed he is, and he’s smart enough to walk away.
But that game didn’t seem like an ending.
No, it felt like a beginning.
It felt like a promise.
My fingers dig into the worktable. I picture his hand between my legs, his fingers inside me, the pleasure building and building in my core, until I rip off the blindfold, only to see how close to the edge we are. The view, the sudden jolt of fear and adrenaline, slams the most intense orgasm through my brain I’ve ever experienced.
And he planned it just like that.
I can’t keep going like this. I storm out of my basement, throw on some clothes that aren’t covered in dust, and head outside. The sunlight’s bright and blinding as I march over to Angelo’s house and bang on his door. A harried and surprised-looking Claudia answers.
“Laura, hey, good morning. What, uh—” She starts to ask what the hell I’m doing at her door, but instead switches to, “I mean, are you looking for Angelo?”
“Tell my brother I want to talk.”
“Come inside. He’s up in the shower.” I follow her into the kitchen, feeling massively uncomfortable, and already regretting this. “Can I get you anything? I just made coffee if you want some.”
She pours me a mug and we sit at the table together. I feel awkward and unsure of myself, and Claudia seems taken aback. Not that I can blame her—I don’t think I’ve ever been in this house before.
“I heard your sister is out of rehab,” I say, searching for something to talk about. Why does this feel hard? I like Claudia, despite myself, but I’m so out of practice at being a normal human being.
“Uh, yeah, and she’s doing good.” Claudia talks about how her sister, Serena, got clean and now she’s living in one of the guest houses. “At least until she’s back on her feet and finished with nursing school.”
“You’re a good sister,” I say almost absently, because it’s objectively true. Claudia went through a lot of shit to help her addict sister out, and I’m not sure most people would’ve gone half as far as she did.
But she gets a little misty-eyed. “Really? You think so? I don’t know. Lately I’m worried I’ve been focusing too much on Angelo and Cage, and not enough on her.”
“I think you’ve given enough to that girl. Let her figure her own shit out.” I slug back some coffee and get to my feet. “I should head back.”
“Wait a second.” Claudia looks around. “Just give him another minute. He’ll be down soon, I promise.”
“No, that’s okay.” I already regret coming here. This was a stupid, impulsive idea. I hurry back down the hall and toward the front door. Claudia follows me, fretting and worrying, which only pisses me off more. I should’ve stayed in my basement with my sculptures and worked today, but Jackal has me all messed up, and now I’m bothering this poor girl and being an asshole for no reason.