Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

I shifted my gaze to her, seeing her hands, one resting on the pillow and the other over her stomach. A smile pulled at my lips. She took them off.

The scar looked almost like a red ink stamp across the back of her hand, and I squeezed my phone, anger building. Gabriel was going to pay for that. And for a lot more.

Her lips were slightly parted, and I noticed a chocolate-colored strand of hair that had fallen on her lip. Leaning down, I softly pulled it off before giving her a kiss, lingering just long enough for her scent to cast a trail of heat from my heart to my groin.

I groaned, reluctantly pulling back up. Not now. She needed sleep, and I wanted her to wake up to breakfast. She said she liked eggs.

No.

She just said she ate a lot of eggs. Maybe she didn’t like them all that much. They were cheap, low in fat, and sustaining. Perfect for a person of low income.

I looked down at my ring, finally feeling it sink in that she was mine now. Until she ran away again, anyway.

And she had a life to live if I had anything to say about it. No eggs. I was going to enjoy indulging her.

Opening my phone, I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me as I checked the weather for today. I should never have gone to sleep last night. I had no idea what today had in store, but I should’ve been ready earlier. The body’s need to waste one-third of its lifespan unconscious was an error of evolution. Look how much I could’ve gotten done.

Cloudy all day, high of sixty-eight. Evening thunderstorms. Great. I needed to get the house closed up, some supplies and food, and I had a flood of phone calls from friends back home wondering if we were going to be in town tonight and employees wondering if they should find new jobs. No and yes.

That fucking prick. I’d promised I wouldn’t hurt him, but after what he did, I might not be able to stop myself.

My phone rang as I walked down the staircase, and I checked the screen, seeing a number I didn’t recognize.

I slowed, staring at it.

Damon. I hadn’t heard from him since the day on the street in front of The Pope. He must’ve been getting a new burner phone every time he made his little calls.

I smiled to myself, fingering my wedding ring with my thumb. He wasn’t going to be in a good mood.

Answering the phone, I brought it to my ear.

“Where is she?” he said, not waiting for a greeting.

“Sleeping.”

“I will get her back,” he told me.

I took a deep breath and walked to the front door, looking out the little window on the side. Banks’s men were still out there.

Impressive.

“So, come on, then,” I told him. “Come to the house, and take her back.”

His chuckle filled my ear. “Oh, I will,” he said. “But I’m smarter than you. I’ll get my leverage first.”

What leverage?

I didn’t want him here. I didn’t want him near her. But I was ready to shut him up. He wouldn’t be getting her back.

“I’m the only one who’s taken care of her,” he argued. “The only one who’s loved her. You can’t ask her to give me up. You know why? Because it’s an impossible choice and you don’t want to know that she just might not choose you.”

I shook my head, opening the front door. I wouldn’t ask her to make that choice anymore. I would just keep fighting, because I loved—

I suddenly felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

Because I loved her.

“You see me in her, don’t you?” he taunted, lowering his voice. “Do you really want to be faced with her every day? Could you really love her, knowing who she is and that I’ll always divide her attention?”