Page 47 of Claimed By A Blue Eyed Menace

She inhaled shakily. “So you had to kill him?”

I met her eyes, standing up. “Yes. And the fact that you really think I’d put a bullet inyou?That shit burns me up more than anything else.” I shook my head. “I’d killforyou, Parker but I wouldn’t kill you.” Her breath hitched. I kept my gaze locked on hers, making sure she felt every word. I exhaled through my nose. “How’d you even get the fuckin’ USB?”

Parker bit her lip before shifting on the couch, tucking her legs under her. “Some creepy old dude came into the gym,” she admitted, rubbing a hand down her thigh like she was trying to wipe the memory off her skin. "Talking crazy. In riddles, almost. Something about death. Didn’t make sense, so I went to leave, but then he threw the USB at me and ran out.” She shook her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Shit was weird as hell.”

“Describe him.”

She studied me, like she knew I already had the answer. “Older. Like, at least late sixties, probably even seventies. Tall, but he had this slight hunch. Balding, some grays, and his eyes…” She trailed off for a second, like she was trying to find the right words. “His eyes were…wild. Like, he’d seen too much shit. You know what I mean?”

Yeah. I knew exactly what the fuck she meant. I inhaled slowly, exhaling through my nose as I walked back to the bar. I poured another drink, my fingers tight around the glass.

“Who was he?” Parker asked, watching me closely.

I threw back the liquor, the burn doing nothing to cool my rising anger. “No one you need to worry about.”

Parker scoffed, leaning back into the couch. “Oh, so now you don’t wanna give me answers?”

I turned my head to look at her. “I’ll handle it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right.” Then, sighing, she rubbed her temple. “I need a damn drink.”

I huffed out a humorless chuckle, shaking my head. “Nah, you’ve had enough.”

She sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. “Says who?”

I leveled her with a look. “Says me.”

She sucked her teeth but didn’t argue. I moved from the bar and walked toward her, scooping up the wedding ring that still sat on the coffee table. The sight of it, abandoned like that, had been fucking with me since I walked in the other day. I held it between my fingers, the weight of it heavier than it should’ve been.

Parker eyed me cautiously as I lifted her left hand. Her fingers were still trembling, whether from fear or anger, I wasn’t sure. I slid the ring back onto her finger. “You’re my fuckin’ wife,” I told her, my voice firm but low. “Don’t ever forget that shit.”

Her lips parted slightly, eyes flicking up to mine. “What now?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

I knelt down in front of her again, tilting her head, my gaze dark and unreadable. “Now, you don’t worry about shit. Just know I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way.” I brushed my fingers down her jaw. “You just need to trust your husband.”

Parker exhaled shakily, her lips parting, but I didn’t give her the chance to say anything. I kissed her, and she let out a muffled sound as her fingers gripped my shirt. My hand slid up her thigh, gripping her hip as I deepened the kiss, my other hand slipping up to grasp her throat. I growled against her lips. “Missed your mean ass.”

Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening on me. For a second, I thought she’d let me have her. Thought she’d let me claim her the way I needed to after these last two long ass days. But then she pushed me back, her breath ragged, lips swollen.

“You’re in the dog house, sir,” she murmured, a smirk tugging at her lips. “No pussy for you.” I licked my teeth, fighting the urge to drag her ass to the bedroom and remind her who she belonged to anyway. Instead, I stood up, watching her as she slid off the couch. She stretched her arms over her head, her body flexing in all the right ways. “Also, you need to replace Mecca’s front door,” she added, sauntering toward the hallway. “And get my shit back.”

I let out a short laugh, shaking my head as I watched her disappear down the hall. She was back. And fuck, I loved that shit.

But as much as I wanted to sit back and enjoy my wife, my mind was already moving. I poured another drink, the amber liquid sloshing slightly in the glass as I set the bottle down with more force than necessary. The burn in my throat was a welcome distraction, but it didn’t do shit to quiet the war raging in my head.

This situation needed to be handled. The old nigga who slid that USB to Parker was still breathing, and that was unacceptable. The question was—do I handle it alone, or do I bring my father into this shit? I exhaled slowly, rolling my neck as I stared at the half-empty glass in my hand. One thing was for sure—somebody had to die and soon.

I tossed back the rest of my drink and let the warmth spread through my chest before setting the glass down. My mind was running a mile a minute, and I needed to turn that shit off before I drove myself insane. The only thing that ever shut my brain down completely was Parker.

I pushed off the bar and stalked down the hallway, already knowing she wasn’t in our bed. That shit didn’t sit right with me. The second I stepped into the guest room, I was hit with the soft scent of her body wash and that damn perfume she always wore—vanilla and something sweet, but still sexy as fuck. My dick jumped as I spotted her curled up under the covers, dead-ass comfortable in a bed that wasn’t hers.

She knew better. I didn’t say a word as I walked over and yanked the blanket back. Parker groaned in protest, shifting away from me, but I was already scooping her up into my arms. “Shooter,” she grumbled, wiggling, trying to fight me off even though she knew damn well she couldn’t.

I tightened my grip. “You got me fucked up if you think you sleepin’ anywhere but our bed.”

“Sebastian, put me down!” she huffed, smacking my shoulder.

I ignored her, carrying her out of the guest room and straight into the master bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me. I walked to the bed and tossed her onto the mattress, smirking as she bounced slightly.

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