I’m sickened by myself.
I’m a fucking hypocrite.
I bitched at Atlas over stalking Loxley, and the whole time I've been following her best friend around like a creep.
I don't know what it is about her. Our first encounter wasn't pleasant, but it stuck with me. I had to force myself to leave Sweet Haven after the grand opening. That night, I sat up in my office, my eyes red and burning with a lack of sleep as my brain picked apart her every discernible feature, and a bold attitude that made my dick hard after years of being celibate.
Maybe it’s the hatred I’m feeding off of?
Maybe it’s the challenge I see in her eyes every time we ‘bump’ into each other.
Or maybe it’s because from the moment I spotted her, time ceased to exist. The sun-kissed, golden-toned skin, wide hazel eyes, thick, dark lashes framing them, and shiny auburn hair had me blinking myself back to reality. I was altogether stunned and in awe.
It’s been a while since I had sex, or even thought of touching another person. When you’re in my line of work, you don't have the time for connections, and everyone walks on eggshells around you. I’m in charge of the paychecks, so it isn't unnatural for the others to steer clear of me out of fear of pissing me off. I can't even remember the last time I had a drink with someone whowasn'teither of my siblings.
Which is why it was refreshing when Addison called me an asshole. It irked me, but a small part of me reveled in it. Finally, someone who wasn't afraid to speak their mind when it came to me. She wasn't intimidated. She just seemed sonatural.
So light.
Intelligence has always been attractive to me. It's been a weakness of mine since long before I knew what infatuation or love was. Addison had no idea, but she awoke me in a way Ican’tcontrol. Even now, sitting in my fucking office while she’sa state away, my leg bounces as my fingers pinch one of the many photos I’ve collected over the last week.
I’m disgusted with myself.
I shouldn’t be watching her every move. It isn’t right to destroy someone’s safety like that. My whole profession is unethical, but I had a line–a boundary. It was put in place to ensure the Midwestern branch always had a leader. If I were to succumb to the traumas my father put me through, I would have died long ago.
A sense of duty kept me alive, and now Addison Bright has me feening for something I shouldn’t want. I want to possess her–own her and the light that seems to come so easily to her. I want her in the palm of my hands, begging and pleading for what only I can offer her.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose before tossing the photo atop my paperwork. I curse when I have to stand from my desk so I won’t stare at her face like the pathetic fucker I am.
In the photo, she’s smiling at a man as he passes her on the street, her dimples on display as pouty lips pull up cordially. It’s friendly–innocent.
But I wanted to snag the stranger by the fucking neck and snap it for even looking at her.
“I’m delusional,” I sigh, shaking my head. I spot the rest of the photos buried beneath my paperwork. “I’m stronger than this,” I mutter before walking over to the window and propping myself against the frame. The compound rests in the distance, calm and quiet. I spot a few houses, Alana and Connor’s being the closest to me. I attempt to distract myself by counting the tiles on their roof, but curse when that nagging feeling returns.
My fists clench at my sides, and I feel like a fucking addict as I rub a hand over my mouth.
Fuck it. Who’s going to stop me?
I stalk to my desk and shove a stack of papers aside, revealing several shots I got: Addison at the coffee shopordering her usual, her working the crowd outside of Sweet Haven, getting into her SUV, and sitting on a bench in the park.
I hold them in my hands, shuffling through each one like I do every day. It’s always the same. I stare at her face, my eyes memorizing every inch of flesh I can. Shapely, perfect legs, long hair that catches the light and has a red hue I’ve never seen before, and wide eyes full of intelligence and warmth.
Fucking beautiful.
But oh, soinfuriating.
What is it about her? I’ve never been so enthralled by a woman that I resorted to Atlas-level fuckery…
“No,” I ball my fist, pressing my knuckle to my forehead. “It’s over. It’sover. I’m done with this. Drop it, Rowan.” I toss the photos down and pace. “Work. I need to work.”
I decided a few days ago to drop this. My sanity slipped for a moment, but it’s done. Addison is back in New York, and when she returns to Columbus, I’ll take a few jobs out of state to get her out of my system. Thalia and Atlas should be able to run the office for a couple of weeks while I work.
With Loxley being around, my brother has calmed down tremendously. He’s still a psychopath, but he's nothing compared to Thalia.
The Calaway hit, my sister’s current obsession, has the need for a cigarette arising. She can't just snap a man’s neck like the rest of us.No, she has to play this ridiculous cat-and-mouse game until several end up traumatized and there's far more bodies than there should be.
This is ajob.
