Third problem with mansion security: sometimes the left hand had no fucking clue what the right hand was doing.

I walked down the hall, head held high, acting like I had a purpose. The staff members I came across smiled at me and waved like they expected to see me there, and I nodded back like it was no big deal. The thing was, I bet all the door guards, and most the street thugs knew that I was dead to the family, and they’d throw me out in a second. But the staff wasn’t told much if anything about family affairs, and they generally kept to themselves. I made a point of drinking and hanging out with some kitchen guys a few times, and I knew they existed in their own little bubble, probably out of some stupid attempt at keeping them from finding anything incriminating, which of course they did anyway.

It meant that I didn’t need to worry about staff. Thugs and made guys, well, those were another story. I was relying on a bit of luck and the knowledge that generally those guys didn’t bother moving around so late at night. The door guards watched the outside of the place, and the security team watched the interior through the monitors.

Which meant I had to dodge cameras.

That was the hardest bit. Generally, I could keep my head low, walk fast, and make sure the cameras didn’t catch my face. I’d made sure I knew where almost all the cameras were on my first couple nights in the place, so it wasn’t too difficult to pull off, but at least once it meant staring awkwardly at the floor while a night cleaner walked past and frowned at me like I was insane.

Soon though, I found myself on the far side of the mansion, and crept up to Amber’s room. I tried the knob, glancing down toward the staircase to make sure nobody was coming, but it was locked. I took out my picks and got to work, opening it up in under two minutes, which was a record for me. Probably helped that I was exposed as hell and if the wrong person came up those steps, I was beyond fucked.

The door opened with a soft click and a groan, and I went to flick on the lights—

Then something hard came down and smashed onto my shoulder.

“Ah, fuck,” I grunted, stumbling backwards.

Amber came at me like a monster. I caught her wrists before she could slam an ashtray down on my skull and murder the shit out of me. She growled like a crazy person and I dragged her back into the room before she made a scene out in the hall.

“Get off me,” she said. “Get the hell off me, you asshole, you motherfucker, I’ll kill you, I’ll—”

“Amber,” I hissed. “It’s me. Its Ren.”

That made her stop. She stared at me for a second, eyes wide, and dropped the ashtray. It hit the floor and rolled away. If she’d been even a little more accurate, that heavy as fuck crystal ashtray would’ve brained me.

It was my lucky night, apparently. She only managed to bruise the crap out of my arm.

“Ren?” She threw herself at me again, but this time, she hugged me tight.

I held on, hugging her back. “I got you,” I whispered, and breathed in the smell of her hair.

The room was still a mess. The assholes hadn’t bothered to clean up for her, which managed to piss me off even more. She looked up into my eyes and I kissed her, not thinking about it, not hesitating—I only wanted her taste, her lips, and whatever happened next, well, I’d figure it out. For me though, the kiss was everything, and I couldn’t make myself hold back.

She returned that kiss then gently pulled back. “I thought they hurt you.”

“They did.” I grinned, then grimaced. “And now I think you broke my shoulder.”

She laughed and touched my face. “Poor baby.”

“I know.” I held her hand there and met her gaze. “I had to come back for you.”

“They’re sending me back to Chicago.” She spoke in a rush, like she’d been holding her breath for hours. “I don’t want to go, I tried to fight, but there’s nothing I can do. Vincent’s gone crazy, he wants to get rid of you, and get rid of me, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“It’s okay,” I said, squeezing her hands. “I’m getting out of the city and I want you to come with me.”

She took a step back. “You want me to leave with you? Right now?”

I nodded as her fingers trailed away from mine. I felt that absence like another punch in the gut. “Right now,” I said. “You don’t have to come. I’m not going to force you. But I love you, Amber, and I want you to be with me. We’ll go wherever you want, I have enough money to last us for a while, and—”

Tags: B.B. Hamel Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net