Page 4 of Bleeding Outside the Lines

I want to watch, but it is against protocol. A protocol that was put into place long before my reign. So instead, I shut down my phone and bury myself in my sheets. Rolling onto my stomach, I ride my fingers. Energy burns through my body, and I ride the wave through its swell, and then, like a wave, I crash.

three

“Motherfucker!” I yell. “Thatbetter be some damn fine pussy.” My heavy footsteps echo down the expansive hallway of my best friend’s house. The storm of anger brewing in the pit of my gut intensifies with every stride. The volume of the moans increases as I grow closer. “I’ve been calling your phone for the last hour.”

The door to his bedroom is open when I approach. I lean on the door frame and clear my throat to get his attention, my large body casting a shadow across the room. The asshole actually has the audacity to look up at me from between the legs of a busty blonde.

With a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, he says, “It is, Cass. You should have a taste.” Then he places the woman’s legs on his shoulders and drags his tongue through her wet pussy.

“Garrett,” I roar, my voice bouncing off the walls.

Fuck my life right now.

I have Ruby’s kiss of death hanging over my head and more pent-up energy than I can handle, and he offers this woman uplike she’s a Thanksgiving turkey. I need to fucking hit something, and if Garrett doesn’t move his ass, it’s going to be him.

The blonde looks up at me, her eyes hooded. “It’s okay sugar, I’ve got room for two.” Honey coats her Southern accent, thick and sweet.

“Garrett,” I growl through gritted teeth. “Now.”

He doesn’t move from his position, only holds up a finger to give him a minute. If this were anyone else, he would already have a bullet between his eyes. But instead, I watch as seconds later the Southern belle on the bed writhes with pleasure and screams every name in the book except his. Laughter escapes me. I can’t help it, even as angry as I am. Garrett uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and picks his boxers up off the floor. With one leg in, he stumbles toward me. I catch him by the arm, and he uses me to stabilize himself so he can get his other leg in.

He takes a deep breath and pats me on the arm. “Thanks, big guy.”

I follow him downstairs to his office. Well, we call it an office, but it’s more like a lair. There is no natural light, no windows. There’s only one entrance, and Garrett and I are the only ones with access. He uses his thumb and forefinger to spread out one of his eyelids far enough for the retina scanner to do its thing. The door opens and a computerized British accent welcomes us. “Hello sir, I’ve been a bad girl.”

“Got sick ofhello masterfucker?” I raise an eyebrow at Garrett's back.

“Eh, the chick before the one upstairs kept telling me she was a bad girl, so I would punish her by refusing to let her come until I told her she could.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Sometimes I would force her to come just so I could spank her after.”

“What’s it going to be next week.” I give a high-pitched voice my best shot. “Hi ya, sugar, let’s rodeo?”

“Or maybe,Hey, y’all, let’s go fishin’ in the dark,” he quips. The fact that he came up with that one so fast makes me think he’d actually been thinking about it.

“What’s the 911?” he asks. His fingers hover over his keyboard, preparing for battle. Computer screens cover every inch of the wall behind him. Video feeds roll on some, and code appears and disappears on the rest. The video feeds are the only thing of interest to me, the bar staff is breaking down the bar for the night, the parking lot is nearly empty. The code is complete nonsense to me, but it’s Garrett’s language.

“Ruby.” I groan, my voice is gruff with indignation and laced with embarrassment.

“Fuck.” His breath hitches. “When?”

“A few hours ago.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“Well, if you had picked up your fucking phone an hour ago, you would have known.” I slam my palms on his desk. The alarms going off had fucking done it for me. I need to find this bitch now.

Garrett looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Why not a few hours ago when it fucking happened, jackass?”

“Why didn’t you pick up your fucking phone?”

“I was exploring the south, my dear sir,” he says with a smirk.

It takes all my self-control to not pound the smirk off his face and go make the Southern belle scream my name. I’ve never once hit Garrett though, and he knows I never will. A friendship like ours is forged on broken homes and fucked up families. We are all we have. Even if I don’t deserve him.

“You’re supposed to be the best tech guy there is. You didn’t spend all that time sneaking into college classes so that you could dedicate your life to hunting and eating pussy. Get your head out of your ass and find out how she got into my cameras at the bar. Then find out how the fuck she got into my alarmsystem at home. And I swear to fucking God, Garrett, if I don’t have answers before that girl in there comes again, I will kill her while you watch.”

His fingers are typing a mile a minute before I even finish my threat. He knows he’s safe, but he can’t say the same for her. I’m not one to hurt or kill without reason, but if she gets in the way of him doing his job, I will not hesitate. The Ruby situation is washing away my good guy camouflage.

“I want her real face and her real name. I want to know what she ate for breakfast and where she lays her head. Find out everything you can about her.” I bark the orders at him and after a moment's pause, I add, “And I want to know exactly how her marks die.”

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