Chaos Remains (Greenstone Security 4)

I definitely didn’t complain about that, since a lot of his actions ended in me having an orgasm.

This action didn’t involve an orgasm. It involved him moving forward so his hands fastened against my wrist, undoing the watch there and letting it fall to the floor.

I didn’t say a word, because even now, I was still affected, struck dumb by his touch. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it, to him. Lance wasn’t someone you got used to. He would always make me feel like this, uncomfortable, excited, content. For as long as he was here. I really hoped that was forever.

My eyes widened when he opened the velvet box, snatching what it contained and not hesitating to fasten it around my wrist. I gaped at my old watch, lying sadly on the floor, staring at me with that fake leather strap and the scratched face.

And then my eyes went to the watch that was expertly fastened by large, capable and sexy hands. The hands and the watch were cold against my skin, cold in a good way. In the best way. The metal at my wrist sparkled against the sunlight. Or was it the diamonds? I was pretty darn sure they were diamonds. Because watches that came in fancy velvet boxes weren’t made with fake diamonds. On that note, it wasn’t ‘metal’ either. It was almost certainly gold.

Like real, legit gold.

I knew just by looking at this that it was worth more than my car. You could feel that. Even my own body, unaccustomed to wealth or nice things, it knew what was wrapped around it. It should have felt weird. Unnatural.

“You’re always runnin’ late,” he said, stroking the back of my hand. “Didn’t get you this to change that. I do not want to change a single thing about you. But I know you never have your phone anywhere near you, maybe I do wanna change that.”

There was a bite to his voice that I guessed might have scared the pants off someone else. It definitely made me want to take my pants off. But it also definitely didn’t scare me. Because I knew this man with the quiet menace and coiled violence would never hurt me.

“You’re always lookin’ down at that old, scratched thing,” Lance continued, looking at the watch at our feet. “Don’t want you lookin’ down at somethin’ like that. I want you to look down at somethin’ beautiful, somethin’ worthy of you wearing on your body.” He paused. “Maybe I’m selfish. I wanted to put something on you that you’d look down and see me.”

A tear trailed down my face and landed on the watch. The watch that was worth so much more than metal and stone.

I looked up, to eyes that were so much more than a stony gaze. I moved my hand so I could cup Lance’s stubbled cheeks. “I don’t need to look down at a beautiful watch to see you,” I whispered. “But I’m keeping this one anyway,” I added with a small smile. He rewarded me with a lightening of his eyes.

“You remember that morning when Nathan asked me where my place of worship was?” Lance asked, voice thick and odd.

I made myself pause, pretend to think, as if I hadn’t memorized every moment, every word, every silence I’d had with the man who’d brought my son back to me. The man who bought us donuts. Who grilled burgers in my back yard. Who held my son’s hand. Who fixed my car without asking. Who made it his life to protect us. Who pulled me out of a burning building.

The man I was in love with. He hadn’t said those four words yet, but I was wearing evidence of his love for me.

“Yeah, I remember,” I whispered.

“I was lying,” he said. “I don’t have a place of worship, fuck I had nothing to worship. I had a pocket of peace on a lake in a shitty boat. A pocket of loneliness I pretended was peace. I had nothing to worship and everything to curse. Until you. Until Nathan. Your smile is the altar I worship at.” His hand moved to brush my bottom lip. His eyes fastened on it and my knees wobbled. Then his hand moved to the column of my neck. Down to my chest, right between my breasts. “Your lungs, inhaling and exhaling is what I thank god for. You are my church, Elena.”

I didn’t know what to do with the words. The pure happiness they spread through the core of me. The terror that mingled with it.

But then I remembered Esther’s words.

So I just held on.

Two Months Later

I don’t know why he did it.

I guess I’ll never know.

Terrible people don’t have reasons for doing terrible things. Not reasons that make sense to anyone who isn’t terrible at least. What was that expression, ‘some people just wanted to watch the world burn’? Then there were people, people like Robert, who didn’t just want to watch the whole world burn, just strike the match on people in it.