Page 42 of Royce: The Handler


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As the wait began, I pulled in a deep breath and then released it slowly. My fingertips massaged my temple as I planted my cheeks on my thumbs. I could feel a migraine approaching.

Again, I was up on my feet and in the kitchen within seconds. I twisted the cap of the meds and poured two in my hand. I recapped the bottle and tossed it back into the drawer it had come from.

Two pills entered my system with the help of cold water. I retreated to my bed. As the cushion attempted to comfort me, the Apple logo appeared on the black screen.

846200

It had been nearly a year since I’d typed in the code, but muscle memory kicked into overdrive. I bypassed the notifications that came in one after the other, storming the screen. I navigated the applications, landing on the one I was most interested in.

Fuck!

My heart stilled as I stared at the email I’d been alerted to. As I tapped the message, it restarted, beating erratically with each scroll of my finger.

It was her.

Theperfectstranger.

Theprettystranger.

In front of my car.

Next to me on the driver’s side.

Taking the wheel.

Beside me in the car at The Balgaria.

At Bar Balgaria.

Arm looped through mine in the lobby.

At the elevator.

In the hallway.

At the hotel door.

Entering the room.

Leaving the room.

I stiffened in my briefs at the sight of her. Since she’d entered my line of vision, she hadn’t left my mind. Thoughts of her felt baseless staring at the images.

Her long legs journeyed for miles, finally reaching her round ass.

She was lean, but it was obvious she hadn’t missed a meal.

Just like everything else in her life, food was plentiful.

She had everything. Everything she needed.

I zoomed in on the image. My pupils focused on her hand.

Except a ring.

A woman of her caliber deserved unwavering support, security, and a soft place to land when the world felt like too much.

I scrolled until the images ended. A heavy sigh landed between my cell and I. Disappointment followed the threads extinction. I pulled a hand down the back of my neck, selfishly wishing there were more.