“Holy fuck!” I swerve, missing the carnext to me. The message I received is from Luna, she’s wearing my mask I gave her, she’s in a black babydoll nighty with a pink and purple dildo sticking out of her pussy. Luna’s lying on her back on her bed, propped up on her elbow, as the other hand works the dildo in her pussy. The message she sent with the picture says, ‘Thinking of you.’
I blow out a heavy breath, trying to concentrate on the road, when my phone starts ringing. It’s an unknown number, but I pick it up anyway. “Hello?”
“Hey, James! It’s Billy. I got your message about looking for a new house. I just had a house come on the market that fits most of your criteria. I can get you set up with a tour tomorrow?”
“Perfect. Send me the details, and I’ll look over them tonight.”
“Alright, I’ll send it on over. Have a good rest of your evening, sir.” He hangs up the phone, and I’m left looking at the picture Luna sent me.
Talk about divine timing, you’re meant to be mine, Luna. I’m meant to keep you safe.
It’s finally Wednesday, and I’m meeting Alex’s spy to do the handoff. It’s late in the afternoon, and the hand-off is taking place at the docks up north in the Costanza territory. Alex said it was better to meet on their turf as a sign of respect. I don’t give a fuck about respecting these mother fuckers, but if it keeps my angel safe, I’ll do it.
A white van pulls up, and a man jumps out of the driver's seat. “You, James?”
I nod, and the man knocks on the van twice. My senses are immediately heightened, and my hand itches for the gun I have hidden under my pant leg.
Another door opens and closes, and from around the passenger's side,Gregsteps out. My darkness thrums alive upon seeing him, and it begs me to take him.
He’s just one guy, and he’s hurt Luna so much.
Alex’s warning from the other night comes to mind, stopping me from taking a step forward: “Do anythingto sabotage this, Dante, and I won’t help you again.”
“I believe you have something of mine,” Greg says, and it takes everything in me not to lunge forward and take his life. I know he doesn’t know who I am or that Luna ismine, but I know he put his hands on her, giving her the fear I’ve been slowly taking from her. Luna has nightmares of him still; she wakes up screaming sometimes, thinking she’s still with him, and that everything has been a dream. It guts me every time I hear her scream, when I can’t protect her from her memories—but Greg’s neck looks awfully snappable right now.
I pull the check from my jacket pocket and hold it out to him. I have my shades on, so he can’t see the murderous glare I’m giving him, but I can see his eyes, and I can see he’s suspicious of me.
Greg snatches the check out of my hand. “I hope we don’t have another run-in, but something tells me we will.”
Greg starts to turn away, and I can’t stop myself, “As do I.” He turns back to me, giving me a sarcastic smile, and gets back in the van.
I get in my rental car, dropping it off at the nearest Hertz, and hightail it back to my apartment to pick up my bike and make it back to Luna’s on time.
She’ll forgive me for being late after I fuck her senseless. My angel is always so forgiving.
Luna
This week has flown by, and the day has come when Wolfy and I are finally meeting. I’ve walked my apartment a few thousand times today to calm my anxiety about it. Still, I can’t escape this foreboding feeling I’ve had ever since I woke up, like something terrible is going to happen today.
I wish Dante were here with me, but he got a call from his boss this morning and was told he was needed in the office. He promised me he’d meet me there, but I don’t know, I just feel off.
It’s just your anxiety, Luna. You need to stop overthinking this. Wolfy has given you no red flags thus far. It will be fine.
I huff and concentrate on picking the right outfit, pushing my worry to the back of my mind. I stand in front of my bed with three options laid out for me. I went over these with Dante last night, and he thinks the best option is the middle one: a black long-sleeved bodysuit with an armored belt, a leather jacket, and black combat boots. It resembles the outfit I describe in the book as her unofficial assassin/serial-killer attire. The other two are her more relaxed fits, but Dante said my readers would probably recognize the middle one more as Vera.
He’s right, I should wear this one.
I pick up the outfit from my bed and head to my bathroom. Twenty minutes later, and a fight and a half to get the pleather suit on me, I look at myself in the mirror, and love what I see.
The suit fits tight against my curvy body, showing off every bit of my assets. My nipples pebble under the suit, making their presence known. I look like a plumper version of Catwoman, and it’s kinda turning me on. I’ve come to love my shapely body more and more over the last few weeks. Dante has spentcountlesshours worshiping me, telling how beautiful I am,and how pretty and soft I am all over. I don’t think there’s a single inch of my body that he hasn’t kissed or caressed. He tells me I’m a goddess and constantly calls me his angel; how could I not fall in love with myself?
I throw on some makeup, opting for a dark smoky eye, Vera’s favorite eye look throughout the books, because, yes, a serial murderer loves a smoky eye.
I pick up my phone off the counter, snap a picture in the mirror, and send it to Olivia and Dante. They both send back messages of approval in the form of harassing, vulgar comments. I smile at my phone, feeling confident in my choice, and leave the bathroom, slipping into my leather jacket and combat boots in my bedroom.
I sit on the edge of my bed, blowing out a big huff of nervous energy, and center myself.
“I can do this. I’m Luna fucking Stirling, and I can do this.”
