Page 60 of Fractured Fear

“If my eyes aren’t on you, it’s too far. Got it? You do not go anywhere without me.”

I cock my head to the side. “Whatever you say, big guy.”

“Big guy?”

I gesture to his formidable size. “Do I really need to explain it? You can’t be that oblivious,” before he can respond I continue, “Look, there’s no need for us to argue the point further. Next time I get the urge for a hit of bean fuel, you can tag along.”

His only response is to glower. I guess the giant has gone silent. Can’t say I’m bothered by it, but his silence is deafening.

Unsure of how to make the situation better, I give him my peace offering. “Here, it’s just black.” I thrust the white cup forward urging him to take it. Instead, he narrows his gaze at the drink as if it kicked his puppy.

After what feels like an abnormal amount of time, he reluctantly grabs the cup. His fingers brush mine as he takes it from me. When we touch, I let out a small gasp and those flutters make another appearance, but they go into overdrive. I notice his eyes flare with heat. He’s just as affected as I am, but neither of us say a word.

Expressionless, he takes his coffee back to his comically short stool. I go back to working on a chunk of clay but steal a glance in Asher’s direction out of the corner of my eye. I watch him sip his coffee and his shoulders relax.

One point for Spencer.

CHAPTER 22

ASHER

Rio and Zane are going to owe me Sal’s for a fucking year. I had to sit and watch this vixen in her tight ass pencil skirt and fuck me heels walk back and forth throughout her gallery all day. The fabric of her skirt perfectly hugged her waist and ass, an ass I’d be more than happy to sink my teeth into.

Then she went upstairs and just as I thought I’d get relief from the tightness in my pants, she changed into a pair of leggings.Fucking leggings!I was so engrossed with her body that I missed three people approaching the studio because she was bent over with her delectable ass in the air.

I’ve never been so hard just watching a woman. If I’m not careful, watching her is going to become my favorite pastime. A pastime I can’t afford.

She offered me water a couple times, but I refused. Water means needing to relieve myself which means having to take my eyes off of her. I don’t know if she has a golden pussy or what, but she has Rio and Zane wrapped around her perfect fingers…fingers I’d like to see wrapped around my cock.

I don’t like the distraction she’s been today. I need to focus on my case, on Cain. There’s no space for anyone else. There’sno space for anyone extra, and I can tell she’s more than extra. She’s a pain in my ass with sass effortlessly that pours out of her mouth. I’ve imagined, more than once, shutting her up by shoving my dick down her throat.

She can’t mouth off when with my cock in her throat.

At one point she disappeared without a word and came back with coffee. One for me and one for her. The brat had snuck out and gone to the coffee shop next door. Rookie mistake on my part, and I hate that she got my order right, black coffee.

Now I’m waiting for her to finish up with Paul so we can go upstairs. I pull out my phone to review my case notes to occupy my time.

Five murdered women. All of them fitting the exact same description: early to mid-twenties, tan skin, brown hair, brown eyes, with Latina background. They were all low-risk victims abducted from various places—one from a restaurant, two from their homes, and two from parking garages.

This guy is all over the place. He’s mobile, each woman was killed in a different city.

The only consistency between each woman is how he kills and displays them. He rapes them then strangles them to death. After, he cleans and dresses them in a silk wedding dress and lays them on the ground. They’re posed with a purple hyacinth clutched in their cold hands, resting on their chest.

I’m counting myself lucky the media hasn’t put it all together yet. If more bodies pile up, it’ll be my ass on the line. My supervisor isn’t happy that this psycho is still on the loose. Add in bad press and I’ll be getting reamed out by my boss at the office, and it’ll suck. A lot.

I tuck my phone in my pocket and run my hands through my hair.

A grunt pulls my attention away from my pity party. Spencer is struggling to get a bag of clay down from the top shelf of her stuffed storage closet.

“Let me help you,” I say as I step up behind her.

“No need. Go back to your perch, big guy. I got this.”

I rub my eyes, warding off a Spencer size headache. “You don’t need to be stubborn. I’m here. I’m tall. Let me help.”

“No. I don’t need you.” Each word is difficult for her to get out as she struggles to leverage the heavy block of clay.

Done with watching her battle and fail at what she can’t achieve, I reach over her and snag the clay from her hands. She turns in place and rests her hands on her curvy hips

---