Page 2 of Killer's Obsession
“It’s no place for her. All she does is hide up there.”Like he knows what’s best for my girl.
My girl.
There I go again, staking a claim that isn’t even mine.
Yet.The word echoes in my mind.
“Appreciate the heads-up.”
“You should be good to move in on Thursday.”
Shit. That’s only six days from now.
My mind races through everything that still needs to be done. I’ve got to buy furniture, appliances, and all the other shit I’ve never had to think about before because I lived in the clubhouse.
“Does Memphis know yet?” Morpheus asks, breaking into my thoughts.
“No.” I don’t know why I haven’t told her about the house yet.
I keep telling myself that the moment hasn’t been right. That I need to wait a little bit longer to ask the traumatized woman sleeping in my bed if she wants to move into the house I’ve been building. “I’ll tell her tonight.”
“Good luck with that.” There’s another grunt from Morpheus before he hangs up.
Yeah. I’m going to need it.
Pocketing my phone, I finish wiping down my station while the what-ifs run through my mind.
What if she doesn’t want to come with me to the new house? What if the clubhouse feels safer to her? What if she’s ready to strike out on her own now that she’s healing? What if she’s ready to go back home? Wherever the fuck that might even be.
I don’t want her to leave. Chief warned me that I can’t keep her. That she’s not my pet, no matter how much I call her that.
I can’t stop the smirk from taking over my face.
The image of Memphis’ cheeks turning pink when I call her that flashes in my mind. She’s so damn adorable.
Everything between us has been strictly platonic. Not because I don’t want to fuck a Memphis-size dent into the mattress, because fuck me, I do. Christ, I want her so bad my teeth ache with it, but I’m not a fucking monster.
My little pet has been through hell.
Not that I know what that hell was. She hasn’t spoken a single word about what the Talons did to her.
Whatever it was, the nightmares still haunt her. I can still see her in that cage, covered in bruises, her eyes wild with terror.
My hand tightens on the spray bottle until the plastic starts to crack.
The fucking Talons. I wish I could kill every one of them all over again.
Especially Spike. That cocksucker got off way too easy.
Taking a deep breath, I force the rage back down.
Memphis is safe now. That’s what matters. She’s safe, and she’s healing, and she’s sleeping in my bed every goddamn night with her perfect little ass pressed up against my cock. It’s agonizing torture.
I’m going to hell for all the filthy things I think about doing to her. But I’ve kept my hands to myself. Becausewhenthat happens, it will be her choice. All of it. At her pace. On her terms.
That might be a while, though. It’s been three weeks since we broke up the Russians’ trafficking pipeline and brought Memphis and the others back to the clubhouse. Since that day, she’s barely left my bedroom. She treats it like it’s her safe haven. Like it’s the only place in the world she feels safe.
The only time she comes out is when I’m around, and even then, she sticks to me like glue.
