No Shannen…
I'm already tapping into her phone's location before my brain catches up to my fingers. The map loads, and there it is, the little blue dot, still in her apartment.
This fucking girl.
She left her phone behind like her own personalfuck you.
One, two, three, four, five… breathe, Phoenix.
I’ve lost sight of her before, but only a couple of times, and never for long. She never goes anywhere without her phone, not fucking ever. That was always my fail-safe, my invisible leash around her delicate throat.
But it’s different now.
Everything changed the second I put my hands on her.
I’ve felt the way her body reacts to mine. I’ve heard the way herbreath stutters when I say her name, like those two syllables alone have the power to undo her.
I tell myself to keep busy.
I need to wait and bide my time until she comes back.
I need… fuck, I need her.
I dig into my cabinet with trembling fingers and fire up my tattoo gun, the buzz the only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit.
I find a bare spot on my forearm—there’s barely any skin left untouched, but there’s always space for another piece of evidence that she’s mine.One deep black line for the way my name fell from her lips in that hotel room.
One day, I’ll stop marking myself. Probably the day she’s wearing my ring, and I finally get to call her my wife. That’ll be the only mark I’ll ever need.
I’m pacing back and forth across my apartment like a caged animal, my mind spinning out in every fucking direction.
She’s gotta be with Lianna.
That’s the only place she’d go. I already checked her office—yes, I tapped into those security cameras a long time ago, sue me—but she isn’t there.
It has to be Lianna.
Fuck this.
I’m out the door and take the stairs two at a time up to Shannen’s place, slipping inside as easily as I ever have. I scan the apartment, hunting for any clue she might’ve left behind, and that’s when I see her phone on the nightstand beside a letter with my name scrawled across the front in her handwriting. The second I unfold it and see what she’s written, I can’t decide whether I want to strangle her or fucking applaud her for fighting back. I mean, Ihate it—hate that she’s pushing me out and I really hate the challenge—but god, there’s pride burning in my chest too.
GET THE FUCK OUT, ASSHOLE.
I laugh. I shouldn’t because she means it, and I can feel the venom dripping off those block letters, but I can’t help it. She hasn’t given in or rolled over. She hasn’t made this easy, and I hate it. But fuck if I don’t love her for it.
I fold the letter, careful as anything, and tuck it into my pocket like it’s worth more than gold. Dropping onto the couch, I settle in for the wait. I stretch my legs out and allow my head to fall back against the cushions because I’m not going anywhere until I see her walk through that door.
Chapter 3
Shannen
“So let me get this straight,”Lianna says, leaning forward to set her now-empty wine glass on the coffee table before tucking her feet beneath her on the couch. “You tried to fuck him over, and instead he flipped the whole damn game, admitted to a bunch of stalker-level shit, and then busted all over you like it was his fuck-you right back?”
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
“Damn, that’s hot.”
“No, it’s not.”
