Page 29 of Vengeful Lies

“So when I fuck Michelle, I can think of you.” Red-hot anger and some other emotion—jealousy, maybe? No, it couldn’t be that—flash inside me. It pisses me off that his sudden mention of Michelle has any effect on me. He smirks when I don’t respond to his antics, and he slips my underwear into his pocket and closes the drawer.

“I thought I’d stop by and return the love letter,” he says, coming to a stop in front of me.

“No dead rat?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest as he fishes a note from his pocket.

“Do you want one that badly?” He looms over me, and I grow uncomfortable at the way he looks down my chest, his gaze seeing all of me.

“Not particularly.” I refuse to look away from him, meeting his gaze as if it does nothing to me.

He bends down slightly so his hot breath is against my ear. “Have a good day, Jewel,” he tells me as he places a perfectly folded note into my hand. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you real soon.”

I look up through thick eyelashes as he straightens to his full height again and I point to the door. “You’re starting to get awfully needy.”

He chuckles as he turns to go. “Some might call me attentive.”

“I’ve never asked for your attention,” I remind him.

He freezes with is hand on the door handle and looks over his shoulder. “You don’t need to, sweetheart. Your body tells me all I need to know about what type of attention you need.”

I stop my jaw from dropping as he lets himself out.

Arrogant asshole.

Jenny is busily scrubbing a pot in the kitchen as she watches him leave. “Bye!” she calls out, but he doesn’t acknowledge her or even look back at me. The moment he lets himself out the front door, I slam my bedroom door before Jenny can ask me any questions.

Fucking asshole.

I open the note he placed in my hand.

Jewel,

If you want your guns back, you will come to my mansion at eight o’clock tonight. Use the front door for once.

Sincerely,

The man whose cock you’re going to come all over.

My hands are shaking so much I almost tear the note in half.

My guns? No way.

How could he possibly know where they are?

The next hour is a blur as I quickly change and drive out to the storage unit I’ve rented under a fake name to keep my guns safe.

I’m warily looking over my shoulder as I all but speed walk down the hall full of roller doors until I find my number. He couldn’t know where I store them, could he? Fear grips me so profoundly that even on the drive here, I couldn’t talk myself into any sense. He’s just fucking with me. He has to be. But it’s something I can’t leave to chance.

And so help me, God, he better not have one of my fucking guns.

They’re like my babies.

In fact, if I were to ever have kids, I’d sell them all to him in exchange for my guns.

When I finally reach my unit, I unlock it, lift open the door… and find it empty inside. My stomach grows heavy, and my heart feels like it’s stopped. Everything goes quiet as the reality of my situation sinks in. I take two steps inside and stumble to my knees.

No.

This is all I had.

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