I bob my head, finally breathing a bit easier. “That’s pretty much what I told him.”
“But you indulged him … a bit too long, considering your guest,” Axel corrects. “The point is, you did better than youthink. But stop playing pranks, or making stupid moves for a woman, or messing around with employees.”
They all start to file out after that, and I stay behind. I don’t bother telling them thatmessing aroundisn’t the description I’d assign to whatever the hell this is with Tessa or that I don’t give a fuck that she’s an employee. There’s nothing to gain from that tonight. We might as well absorb some peace while we can.
Though peace is the last thing I feel.
Cash doubles back a minute later, realizing I never got up. “You’re still stressed?”
My eyes snap to his. “Of course.”
He leans on the table, keeping his voice low. “Don’t be. And don’t grow a damn conscience. They think Vincent Lund’s grandson did it.”
“No, they don’t,” I scoff.
He straightens his posture, confusion marring his features. “I thought that’s what your call was about.”
“It was, but …” I rub the scruff on my jaw, finally unveiling the haunting realization I had while I was making frantic phone calls earlier. “If Dimitri Makarov thought Vincent Lund’s grandson had killed Niko, he’d already be dead. Dimitri wouldn’t take his time investigating. He doesn’t think Lund’s grandson did it. He thinks that guy was framed for killing Niko or that someone bigger was involved. Lund might even be working with the Makarovs to find answers. That whole call could’ve been a setup.”
“You think they know that you—”
“I don’t know,” I interrupt, sick to my stomach, “but I have a feeling finding out won’t be pleasant.”
MADDOX
Me: What’s it going to be, Doll? Fun fact or mind-blowing orgasm?
Tessa: Since I just had the latter, I’ll go with the fun fact.
This girl is fucking lethal. If I didn’t know she was at home alone today because of my guards watching her apartment, I’d be busting her door down. I’m guessing she’s well aware of that. But her penchant for fucking with me keeps our text conversation flowing.
Me: Next time, I expect to be invited to the show. You owe me.
Tessa: I was wrong, I apologized, and you got to come. I think we’re all paid up. You can’t cash in on this forever.
Me: I can, and I will, and since you couldn’t wait to give me the visual of you splayed out on your bed, touching yourself and fantasizing about tasting me again, I’d say you’re hungry to let me take what’s mine.
Tessa: Seems like you’re the one fantasizing. I never mentioned a bed or touching myself. Both would be false. And as entertaining as it would be to be glued to my phone, indulging your asinine delusions, Drac, I have other things to do in the light of day. Time is ticking. What’s your question?
Me: I’m not even gonna call you out on the fact that you just confessed to fantasizing about tasting me again. You’re probably really proud of the rest of your retort, which is adorable, something else you would likely hate for me to say. So, it’s okay. I’ll move on.
I make her wait because it will drive her crazy and keep her mind focused on me, even though she’d never admit it. She won’t text me back, but she also won’t stop checking her phone. Since she has a few days off and I have a mountain of work to tackle and loose ends with the Makarov debacle to investigate, it’s the only sure way I can irritate her. The idea of her thoughts drifting back to me, whether due to frustration or lust or a craving to spar, has me fucking giddy.
Three hours later, I follow up.
Me: Would you rather find a raccoon in your bathtub or a ghost in the attic?
Tessa: Did you go into a coma to come up with that?
Me: Aww. You been counting the minutes I was gone, baby girl?
Tessa: You mean the blissful hours not filled with ludicrous scenarios? No.
Me: This is not a ludicrous scenario. I expect you to give this serious consideration. I need to know what you can handle. I once stared down a raccoon, perched on a garbage can, nibbling chicken wings. He never fucking blinked. It’s not for the weak.
Tessa: I think the raccoon is my spirit animal.
Me: I can see that. Cute. Ornery. A messy eater, refusing to let go of my … meat.
