Shakingmy head because I don’t doubt that I’m currently his favorite since I’m keeping him flush with cash, I turn out the lights in the bedroom and bathroom.
“Should I snatch the photos?” Rhodes asks, staring at the images on the wall.
Koen is grinning in a couple of photos at six and twenty-ish years old with his parents and a girl who he must be related to. I can’t say for sure how old he is in these photos, but that’s what I’d peg him as.
I’ve been through a whirlwind of emotions tonight, so I simply bob my head in agreement. I don’t know what Fishman will do, which means I need to make sure nothing gets inexplicably ruined.
“Find any of Koen’s artwork too,” I decide. “I want it kept safe with us.”
Rhodes finds all of that and begins to fill a duffle bag. Making one more trip around the apartment, I look everywhere for any sign of Koen’s life, but apart from his championship trophies, there’s nothing else.
I make sure to put Koen’s clothing in the washing machine while I explore his space, getting more and more angry at how sterile it appears.
Rhodes and I lived just like this too. The bare minimum actually belonged to us, because we knew we could need to move at any time. Being flexible made us both popular with teams.
However, that’s a tough life for an omega. He can tell me it’s not, but he’d be lying. I want to give my omega a goddamned home. He can fill the damn house with trinkets, and I’ll line the walls with his art.
“Sky, his drawings are amazing,” Rhodes says reverently, his fingers running gently over the sketch pad. “I found his special pencils too and packed them up.”
Moving closer, my heart clenches as I see that the image is of me. My red hair flames along my head as I skate, and my mouth is stretched around my guard. I look fucking fierce.
“He’s drawing me?” I whisper.
“Mmhmm. It would seem so. We’re further under his skin than we thought. Let’s get the fuck out of here and get Koen’s car. We’re gonna be tired as it is tomorrow.”
Nodding numbly, this shit show of a night falls away as we walk out of the apartment after locking up.
He wants us, he just doesn’t know how to show it. It’s alright, Little Lamb. Daddy’s going to fix it all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
RYDER FISHMAN
It’s been two weeks since Skylar Reynolds gave me this job, and I’ve been making sure everything is set up perfectly. There’s a dinner party in the same apartment building as my mark, which allowed me to get on the catering staff. They employ from a staffing agency, so it was child’s play.
Striding confidently through the service entrance with my bags, I hit the elevator button and wait patiently. The gaggle of college girls surrounding me talk non stop, and none of them notice when I continue up to two floors above their exit off the elevator.
This is like taking candy from a damn toddler.Not that I would do that unless I was being paid to, but still. My morals are loose, and I go where the money is.
The key I lifted from the maintenance crew earlier this week easily gets me into Koen Jeffries’ apartment. I know he’s not home, and that he’s currently at practice for another couple of hours. I’m planning a not so fun surprise for him.
Poor bastard.
Though, from the looks of this apartment, the vibes are very sad. The furniture is rented, and the only thing in here that belongs to Koen is his mattress. He’s been here for several years, and still lives like he’s expecting to be traded.
Blowing out a breath, I begin to collect the cameras in the apartment so they won’t be ruined, though I leave one facing the front door so my employers can see what Koen thinks of their idea of redecorating.
I’m an alpha, and the closer I get to the bedroom, the more my nose rebels. Koen is a very unhappy omega.
It helps fuel my desire to complete this job. What’s a little stalking and destruction of property for fate, right?
The bathroom yields lots of fun for me, so I begin to turn on every faucet I can find. Whistling under my breath, I look up at the ceiling, excitement filling my veins as I see the smoke detector and the sprinkler system to fight the fire.
“My kind of fun,” I say with a smirk. Toeing off my shoes, I jump up onto the mattress, adrenaline masking every year of fifty-five I typically feel when I do shit like this. I don’t look like a criminal, which allows me to get into places I don’t belong.
Everyone smiles at me just before they forget the silver haired fox that slipped through the door they held for me.
My lighter is in my hand before I realize I reached for it and my dick is hard as I fan the flame underneath the sprinkler. The alarm is suspiciously low in this apartment because I turned it all the way down through some great hacking moves. I’m having a good fucking day, and my ass begins to twerk as I wait for the sprinkler to flow.
