Page 176 of Tempting Little Thief

Chapter 32

Bass

My phone rings and a harsh thump drums deep in my chest, my fingers twitching when I look at it to find “My Rich Girl” lighting up the screen, but at the same time, something inside me settles for the first time in far too fucking long.

Been a hot minute since she’s called, texted, begged and pleaded, all to turn around and cuss me out. It’s a vicious little cycle my girl puts herself through every time she loses the battle of restraint she tries to pretend she possesses, but we both know the truth. She has none when it comes to me, same as I have none when it comes to her.

I knew the messages would start to fade, come fewer and further between, but I’d be lyin’ if I said a small part of me didn’t hate it, maybe even become worried, once they did. If I hadn’t had one eye on her at all times from the day I left till now, I might even have thrown a fit about it, given in and gone to her. I might have felt compelled to let her know that this whole time she thought I was walking away, I was simply preparing for our ending while at the same time using her bad move as a light form of punishment.

I wanted her to stress over me, to sit there and wonder if I had just up and walked away, and I know she sat there many times, calling me a bitch in her head. What kind of dude can’t handle some bullshit talk about his past in front of other people? Yeah, I bet she asked herself that a couple times at least, the man she knew me to be unbothered by words, but it served a purpose.

That shit did piss me off, which is one of the reasons why I decided to let her believe I cut her out completely and it led to my going about things the way I have. But it was also because I had to tie up loose ends where I was living before I could take the spot I wanted.

So yeah, seeing her name on the screen now, it does something to me.

So fucking close now, baby.

The phone stops ringing, and not fifteen seconds later, the notification pops up that a voice mail came through. My skin itches with eager anticipation, damn near desperate to hear her voice when her words are meant to be mine and not a conversation I’m listening in on. I can almost guess what she is calling to say, but as I put the phone on speaker and press play, I realize I am not prepared.

“Basti—” She swallows her own whisper and starts again, “Bass …”

My name, or what people call me, the one I never wanted her to use but demanded she did last time she saw me, is no more than an exhale past her lips and it takes a lot of work to keep mine firmly together. It sounds so fucking wrong coming from her lips.

The unmistakable desperation, dripping in uncertain fear, both new and foreign feelings for this girl, is like an electric bolt through my system, a painful shock that has my heart rate skipping. I’m completely fucked up on the inside, angrier for too many reasons to count while making sure there’s not a single sign of it on the outside.

It takes her a few silent seconds to decide what she wants to say in her voice mail, and I wait for her shaky tone to, once again, suck the air from the room.

“Please,” she whispers. “Bass, I need you. Someone has my father, and I … I can’t trust who I thought I could, but I know I can trust you. Something’s going on and I don’t want to talk about it over the phone, but please just …” Her voice travels further away now as if she’s preparing to hang up andher last words are an afterthought not necessarily meant for me, but I hear them loud and clear. “Come back to me.”

The line goes dead, the silence heavy and thick and damn near suffocating, but I ignore it, tossing my phone on the small desk as I kick my feet up on top of it and lean back as casually as ever.

Slowly, my eyes lift, connecting with a familiar pair. It’s damn near comical, the resemblance so fucking obvious now.

This is ’bout to get real fun, real fucking fast …

Rocklin

My mind is running crazy, my thoughts nearly incoherent they’re so all over the place. Nothing makes sense, no thought leading into a moment of clarity. I literally feel blind inside my own mind and I have no idea what I need to do or what I even can do to help me “see.”

My dad is missing, and my guardian might be at fault.

Why else would the man spare his life if they weren’t working together? He wouldn’t.

Or maybe that’s the wrong way to look at it since there were no actual casualties on our team tonight, serious and life-threatening injuries, yes, but no death, at least not yet. The doctors on our payroll are only updating us as their conditions change.

So why did the man leave Sai completely unharmed? He had a gun to his throat, and he lowered it and left him there. It might not seem so odd if he would have at least knocked him over the head with it, left him with a gaping wound like so many of the others, but he didn’t.

He literally let him live, and Sai let him walk away.

God. I run my hands over my hair. I don’t even know how to bring this up to the girls; it seems so unreal, even to my own ears. I’ve seen the man murder in the blink of an eye to keep me safe. He doesn’t even pause but pulls the trigger, sometimes before I even realize there’s a threat. A body would fall and he’d use it as a training lesson, break down what I missed, and teach me what not to do the next time because there was always a next time. I was young the last time I watched him kill a man. Men are less inclined to come at my family nowadays.

This is a man who took an oath in blood, sacrificing a life of his own, family or any relationship whatsoever in exchange for the “honor” of being my guard. He’s the man who took me to all of my diving practices and swim meets and training sessions. The only person around to witness the pains and struggles that come along with this life, the ones we’re forced to hide to save face. The man who is sometimes more like a father to me than my actual one, if only because he was consistently glued to my side in ways my father couldn’t be. That’s essentially what a guard is, a protective figure you’re forever supposed to depend on.

But he’s been missing lately, not at my side or my back or within eyesight. He’s been doing other things while I’ve been left in my father’s care, tucked in the car with his driver rather than my own. I tear through my mind, trying to remember if a conversation existed where my father told me Sai would be busy with other things or if it just happened on its own. I want to call him and ask him, but I can’t. He’s gone and again … what if it was Sai who set him up to be taken?

A blanket falls over my shoulders, and I close my eyes as I wrap my fingers around it, pulling it closer, taking one more moment for myself. Finally, I force a small smile, my eyes opening and landing on Damiano.

His body faces forward, but his eyes flick to mine for a single second as he gives a curt nod, an acknowledgment of my gratitude. I can tell his thoughts are heavy as well, as he focuses straight ahead at the property behind the manor, and slowly, I do the same.

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