“No, it’s mine. But, you know, being my girlfriend and all, I thought you might care about my problems a little.”
“Still not your girlfriend, Emmanuel. And I don’t not care, but I’m not changing just because your dick gets hard a little too easily.” I shake my head. “Now do you want to show me this thing or not?”
“Come with me.” He holds out a hand. “You really do look fucking gorgeous, Evie. But that was true before you went and put all that on your face.”
“I know,” I tell him. Because I do. I’m not fishing for compliments.
Chapter Eighteen
Evie isn’t one of those women who needs constant reassurance about their looks. She knows exactly how beautiful she is. Sometimes I get the feeling she resents it.
Evie places her palm in mine. I use my other hand to adjust my pants. I wasn’t lying when I said my cock is fucking hard. I can’t look at this woman without finding myself in this predicament—regardless of what she’s wearing. The more I get to knowher, the worse my need for her becomes. I’m ready to sayfuck itand take her home, find a way to never let her leave without her hating me for it.
I’m not usually one to tiptoe around someone. I know what I want and I take it. Evie is different. Iwanther towantto be with me. I don’t want to have to coerce her or force her hand. Doesn’t mean I won’t if I have to, but I’d prefer if she chose me.
I lead her to the garden outside the property next to hers. “Remember how I said I bought a house?” I ask her.
“Yeah.” She nods.
“This is it.” I gesture in front of us.
Evie’s head snaps towards me. “You didn’t!” She gasps. “Emmanuel, why on earth would you buy my neighbor’s house? That’s insane.”
“Because I don’t like the idea of strangers being so close to you. I bought the one on the other side and the one behind yours as well,” I tell her.
“You’re surrounding me,” she whispers. “Why? Seriously, this is a small town. The worst thing to ever happen here was one year when the Christmas tree went up in flames. Turned out some kids put fireworks in it and set them off when the tree was being lit.”
“That’s… I want to know who is close to you. I want to know that you’re safe, especially when I can’t be here with you,” I explain.
Evie shakes her head. “I need to go to work.” Turning around, she tugs her hand out of mine and walks back over to her car. She glares at Paz as she slides into her driver’s seat. “You can either move your car or I’m going to ram it.”
He looks to me. “She took that well, jefe.”
“Seems that way.” I shrug. “Follow her. I have some calls to make.”
With a nod, Paz climbs into his car and reverses out of the driveway. Before Evie can do the same, I open her car door and lean in. My lips press against hers. “I don’t like you being angry at me.”
“You should probably get used to it if you plan on sticking around, because you have this way of annoying me, Emmanuel,” she says.
“I’ll catch up with you later. I have some errands to run. Paz is following you.”
“Thanks for breakfast. I forgot to mention that,” she says. I can tell she’s really struggling with whether she wants to punch or kiss me right now.
“Anytime, mi alma.” I kiss her forehead and then straighten up, closing her door. I watch as she drives away, Paz following behind her.
I head into the house to the left of Evie’s. I madethe owners offers they couldn’t refuse, then arranged for them to be relocated while Evie was still in Vegas.
When I walk in, I find the boxes I had Alejandro send me. I could have had Paz do it, but I don’t want anyone other than me knowing this stuff exists. Some things are best kept to yourself. With the boxes in my arms, I head back to Evie’s house. She didn’t lock up, so maybe I’ll install a self-locking door.
Starting in her living room, I open the boxes of surveillance equipment and get to work installing cameras and microphones throughout the room. I don’t just want to be able to see what she’s doing. I want to know what she’s talking about, if she’s talking to anyone.
Once the living room is done, I move on to the kitchen, and then the bedrooms. I don’t plan on having her stay here without me a lot, but if she is, at least I’ll be able to see with my own eyes that she’s safe.
There’s also the fact that I might catch her talking about her past. I haven’t been able to find shit out yet, no matter how many pageant fucking judges my men have interrogated. It’s really starting to fucking piss me off that I don’t know what happened to her. That I can’t fix whatever it is that haunts her.
One way or another, I will find out, and I will erase her nightmares. I’ll enjoy delivering her theheads of whomever the fuck hurt her too. I just need some fucking names. It’s frustrating not being able to force her to do things my way. I love her fire, though, and won’t do anything to douse that flame. She’s going to need it to survive in my world.
After I’ve bugged the entire house, I put all the trash away, and then sit on her sofa and call Alejandro.
