Her smile is oddly endearing. It’s like we’re sharing a secret, a dangerous one, but fuck if it doesn’t light me on fire for the first time in years.
“Should we go to bed?” Monty asks, biting her bottom lip and failing to hide a mischievous smile. “Separately, of course.”
Getting to my feet, I hold out my hand, and Monty takes it. I pull her up, and she uses the opportunity to push herself onto her tiptoes and kiss my cheek.
“Thank you for letting me stay, Chief.”
I angle my face away and clear my throat.
“It’s fine. You go to bed; I’ll clean up these boxes.”
She leaves, and I spend a little longer cleaning than necessary, determined not to bump into her in the hallway.
It’s close to midnight by the time I go up. Usually, I’d have already been in bed for an hour, but I’m surprisingly alert after showering and getting under the covers. The wind rattles the windows, and I make a note to get them replaced when it gets a little warmer. I should also paint the house at some point; it’s looking a little dated.
I guess I’ll have a lot of time for that soon enough.
Running my hand down my face, I wonder if I’m making the right decision. Everything will change, but maybe that’s exactly what I need.
A thump has me sitting up. I remain still, listening, and although no sound follows the initial one, I get out of bed. Typing in the code into the small safe under my bed, I take out my firearm and eke open my bedroom door to darkness. Stepping into the hall, I listen.
Another noise. The creak of a floorboard from downstairs.
Then behind me.
I whirl, pressing the person to the wall, and Monty stares at me, wide-eyed, our bodies flush. Luckily, I didn’t move her too fast or hard.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
Another creak.
Slowly, I place my finger against my lips and release her.
Stay,I mouth.
She folds her arms.No,she mouths back.
Of course, she’d argue with me over this.
Taking her hand, I lead her into my bedroom and close the door. Before she can protest, I have her against the wall again, my hand over her mouth. Green eyes filled with fire glare up at me.
“You listen to me,” I whisper. “This is my home, which means you do as I say. You don’t argue with me, you listen to me, you obey. I tell you to stay, you stay. I tell you to get on your knees, you get on your goddamn knees. Am I making myself clear?”
She blinks quickly, and even in the dim light of the bedroom, I note the blush in her cheeks. I remove my hand.
“Yes, Chief.”
“And enough with the Chief shit,” I hiss. “Sit your ass down and wait.”
“Yes, Chief.”
If I had time to argue, I would.
Leaving her alone, I head into the hall and close the bedroom door behind me softly. With careful steps, I approach the stairs and listen.
Whispers.
My heart rate picks up, but I keep my movements slow, deliberate, calm. I have a weapon, but I don’t want to use it, not if I can help it.
