Page 25 of Claimed By A Blue Eyed Menace

I looked at him, eyebrow raised. “And if I don’t, it’ll go bad?”

“It can’t go bad, so do what you want with that information.”

I frowned but didn’t say anything. It was clear to me now. Shooter’s world was complicated, and whether I liked it or not, I was a part of it. We sat in silence again, the weight of his words hanging between us. But this time, I didn’t mind the silence. I could tell that we were both starting to understand each other. Just a little bit.

T h e n i g h t w a sslowly winding down, and the effects of the weed and shots after dinner settled in. I felt buzzed but relaxed, the kind of high where everything felt smoother, and the world seemed a little more… manageable. The tension between Shooter and me was still thick, but for once, it didn’t feel like I was walking on eggshells. I was full, I was lit, and I was ready for some peace.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, standing up from the island where we’d been sitting, chilling.

“You want a back rub first? You’ve earned it after all that cooking.”

I rolled my eyes, the corner of my mouth lifting in a slight smile despite myself. “Sure, and while you’re at it, kiss my ass,” I shot back sarcastically.

He chuckled, but I wasn’t interested in his teasing. I needed a moment alone, some time to unwind. So, I made my way down the hallway to the guest bedroom, my mind drifting.

The silence of the penthouse wrapped around me as I entered the massive bathroom, the soft glow of the lights in the mirrors giving the room a calm, almost spa-like vibe. I turned on the water, hot enough to steam up the glass, and stood there for a moment, letting the sound of the rushing water fill the space, shutting out everything else.

As the steam enveloped me, I stepped under the shower, the water hitting my skin like a warm blanket, washing away the day’s tension. My mind drifted, and for the first time all night, I let myself think about him.

The way he’d looked at me like he was just waiting for me to slip, waiting for me to give him a reason to make me bend over. I hated the way it made me feel, but I couldn’t ignore it. My body responded to him in ways I couldn’t control, no matter how much I tried to bury it.

I turned the hot water higher, the heat making me flush as I tried to focus on the feeling of the water running over my skin, trying to drown out the thoughts of his blue eyes and that body of his that looked like it was chiseled from stone.

My mind kept spiraling back to that moment when he’d leaned in, close enough for me to feel his breath on my neck. His touch had been just a whisper, but it had sent shivers straight through me. The pull of him was undeniable, even if I hated myself for admitting it.

No,I scolded myself, slapping my hand against the wall of the shower.You’re not gonna let him get to you.But the more I told myself that, the harder it was to ignore the heat between my legs.

I took my time, finishing my shower, scrubbing away the last of the guilt and trying to force the tension from my muscles. When I stepped out, the steam lingered in the room, and I could smell the light scent of lavender from the soap on my skin. I felt refreshed, but still… unsettled.

Wrapping myself in a towel, I walked over to the closet. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to look at the clothes I had bought today. Instead, I grabbed a simple two-piece silk short set. It was smooth, cool to the touch, and soft against my skin.

After slipping into it, I gazed at myself in the mirror, admiring the way it clung to my curves. My reflection stared back, but there was no peace there. I was still wound up from the night. Still trying to shake off the electricity that seemed to spark every time I thought about Shooter.

The silence of the house stood out now. It was… too quiet. I wandered into his bedroom and realized he wasn’t there. I frowned, walking into the living room. The space was empty, aside from the dim light from the city filtering through the windows. There was no sign of him anywhere.

Where the hell did he go?I cursed aloud, irritated. Not only had he left without saying a word, but I also had no idea where he could’ve gone. My heart rate picked up just slightly. Was he going to see her again? The thought made my chest tighten, but I shoved it down.

I stormed back into his bedroom and over to his dresser, glancing at his things, trying to figure out if I could find any clue about where he might’ve gone. But of course, nothing gave me an answer. I pulled out my phone, dialing his number, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Shooter?” I muttered, my fingers tapping nervously on the glass screen. It was pissing me off more than I realized.

I tossed my phone back onto the bed and made my way back to the living room, then to the kitchen. He couldn’t just vanish like that. Not after everything today. As I walked back to the large windows, staring out at the city lights, I caught myself pacing back and forth, irritation building. Where the hell had he gone?

Shooter

I h a d t oget out the crib before I walked into the guest bedroom and bent Parker’s ass the fuck over. I was posted up in Ren’s garage, a bottle of Henny in one hand, a blunt burning between my fingers. We had the garage door half open, letting the night air creep in, the city buzz low in the background. Business talk. The usual.

I glanced down at my phone, the vibration pulsating. When I pulled it out, I saw Parker’s name flash across the screen.

Enjoy your time with that bitch.

I chucked, shaking my head. She was pissed—obviously—but something about it amused me too. I could see her sitting there, fuming, probably pacing back and forth in my penthouse, all upset because she thought I was with someone else. I couldn’t lie, it was entertaining to know she cared enough to get worked up. She just didn’t know how to handle me yet.

I stuffed my phone back in my pocket just as Ren’s phone rang loud as hell against the concrete. He glanced at it, frowned, then answered. “Yeah?” He listened, his whole posture changing. Tightening. I crushed the blunt in the ashtray, already feeling the shift in the air. Ren stood up slow, his smile cold as fuck. “We got the drop on these niggas,” he said, voice low. “Them niggas who hit the shipment? They holed up at an abandoned motel on the east side. Three cars deep.”

I felt my heart slow, like my body was already preparing for what was about to happen. I rose to my feet, smooth and deliberate. “Let’s get it then.”

Ren grinned, grabbing his gun from the table while I grabbed my two Glocks with extended clips. After he locked up his crib, we climbed into the black Tahoe he kept for when shit needed to get grimy and scrubbed clean immediately after.

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