Page 27 of Watching Ames

I reached for my phone, planning to research close hotels with openings, not realizing until my fingers grazed the empty cup holder that it was still sitting on my dresser in my bedroom. Moreover, my purse with my wallet and all my credit cards was still sitting on the ground in my kitchen, where I’d dropped it after finishing up at work. Hell, I hadn’t even had time to grab shoes, the bottoms of my feet scraped and raw from pounding against the concrete as I ran.

So any options that required money were out. I didn’t know where Bex was staying, or I would’ve shown up on her front doorstep, our fight be damned. June was gone for the long weekend, which was why I had closed the studio for her earlier this afternoon. While I knew she would let me stay with her as long as I needed, I didn’t know where she kept her spare key and couldn’t call to ask. I could’ve slept on the floor of the studio, but the keys were still in my purse from where I’d thrown them after closing up earlier this afternoon. I didn’t have any other friends in the area, except for Adam and Delon, and even that relationship was superficial enough that I’d never been to their house.Ironwoodwas closed late at night, so I had no way to reach them to ask for help.

I thumped my head on the steering wheel, allowing my torso to fold almost in half as I tried to pull myself together and think of some other option. A sharp ache started in my chest, and I attributed it to anxiety until I reached up to rub the spot away and found a familiar shape under my fingertips. I pulled out the key, the one I had managed not to think about for the past few hours, forgetting that the overalls I was wearing were the same ones Alex had slipped the key into after our kiss. I owned more than a few of the same pairs - though all were stained in clay and a variety of glazes - and it could have only been the mocking hands of fate that led me to pick up this dirty pair while forgetting exactly why I’d left them, unwashed, on my floor for days.

I stared at the key for long moments, eventually sighing in resignation and pulling up my car’s GPS, which still had the navigation information from when I used it days ago. It was almost laughable, the fact that I had nowhere else to turn but my stalker, who days ago I had been trying to convince myself to be afraid of.

The choice - or really, the lack of a choice, considering I had nowhere else to go - felt too easy, with tears running down my chin and paint streaking my face and clothes. I had never been afraid of Alex, even knowing everything he’d done, and I had thought there was something wrong with my brain for not screaming in terror every time my mind drifted to him these past few days. But maybe that was because something much more terrifying had been in my home and my bed for the past two years.

Besides, I thought to myself bitterly,it’s not like I can trust my rational judgment anyway.

So instead, I trusted my gut for the first time in recent memory, turning my car onto the street and heading in the direction of Alex’s house.

Myhouse. The thought crept unwillingly into my mind, and I tried to shake off the pleasure I felt at the term as I drove closer and closer to the person I couldn’t quite escape from.

Chapter17

Him

My wrist vibrated,waking me up from a light sleep in moments. The silent alarm I had outfitted the house with sent alerts directly to my phone and watch, but I hadn’t finished outfitting the house with cameras yet, too distracted by Ames in recent weeks to bother with my own security. Figuring it was Dev looking to crash, I headed downstairs, but tucked a pistol into the back of my waistband at the last second, just in case. I also shot off a text to Dev, warning him that if he wasn’t the person currently in my house, he might want to make his way over. In my line of work, there was always the possibility of enemies, and while we had also made enough friends to keep us protected in recent years, I refused to go down because my ego kept me from protecting myself.

“Dev,” I called out as I made my way down the stairs, one hand resting casually on the gun in my pants. “The fuck you waking me up for?”

My words died off and my hand dropped in an instant, surprised to find Ames standing in the foyer, eyes wide and unblinking as she looked up at me, the key I gave her gripped in her fist. Within moments, I jumped the last few stairs, coming up to cradle her face in my palms to get a closer look. I called out to the house system I had programmed, having it turn on the lights. Ames flinched at the sudden brightness, and I had to force myself to keep my hands from clenching in anger so I didn’t hurt her where my thumbs were resting on her cheeks.

She was covered in paint, streaks across her eyebrow and cheekbone, splatters across her clothes, and tears had caused tracks of skin to filter through the whitewash. Her cheekbone was red, and I could see faint purpling in the center from where the wound had begun to bruise. Her hair was mussed, loose tendrils tangled and in her face, and a strap of her overalls was hanging by a few threads.

“Sweetheart, tell me what happened.” The command was uttered as gently as I could, especially considering my blood was boiling in my veins with the amount of anger coursing through my body.

But Ames just looked up at me, lip quivering as she shook her head. She looked like she had driven here on pure adrenaline, if her blown pupils were any indication, and I knew she’d be crashing soon from the trauma of whatever happened. And I would find out what happened. I thanked the fucking gods that I never turned off the cameras or stopped recording her apartment, even when I stopped watching out of respect for her.

“Come on.” I gripped her hand gently in mine, leading her up the stairs and into my bedroom. I looked at her again, watching as she picked at the paint drying on her face and arms with her nails, and asked, “Do you want to take a bath? Get that paint off of you?”

She just nodded, and I went into the bathroom, running the water until it felt warm and then plugging the tub to let it fill up. I considered just letting her use the basic shit I had in the shower, but instead I grabbed her shampoo, conditioner, and soap - all the same stuff she used at home, which I’d bought with the hope she’d someday need them, though not in this context - laying the items on the shelves next to the tub. She already knew everything; besides, hiding more from her wasn’t going to do me any favors.

When I walked back into the main bedroom, Ames still stood there, eyes focused blankly at the wall. I led her into the bathroom, the tub almost full, and left her with a kiss to the head and a tug on her earlobe, the familiar gesture brightening her eyes for a moment before they fell dull again.

I settled on the bed, a tendril of the tightness in my chest loosening when I heard the splash as she finally entered the water, and used the opportunity to scroll through the past couple hours of recordings until I found it. I watched in slow motion as he tore at her clothes while he used his weight to pin her against the wall. My chest ached with pride as I watched my girl fight back against him, running away from him. Running tome.I tried not to read too much into where she ended up, but I couldn’t help the feral possessiveness that overwhelmed me at the thought.

Midway through watching the recording for the third time, my watch buzzed again, which had me jolting from the edge of the bed and running down the stairs to meet Dev just as he rounded the corner, gun up and finger resting next to the trigger.

“What the fuck?!” Dev’s voice was almost a shout and I shushed him as I pushed his gun back down to his side.

“Ames is upstairs,” I explained, Dev’s eyes bugging out in surprise at my admission. I didn’t make him ask, instead shoving my phone in his hands, the video already playing. I watched as his features hardened, jaw tightening and eyebrows turning in, until I knew his trigger finger was itching to be put to good use.

“What are we going to do?” Dev’s voice was steady, as if he’d already come up with a few options and was ready to carry them out.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, roughly running my hands through my hair as I tried to weigh my anger against my better sense. Despite our shadier business dealings, Dev and I weren’t murderers. At least not if it could be avoided. And every thought running through my head involved the slow and painful death of a senator’s son. I could easily ruin his reputation along with his father’s with a few well-placed rumors and leaking the video that Dev and I couldn’t stop watching, but that would hurt Ames as well, and I refused to do anything involving Peter without running it by her. “I’ll talk to Ames and let you know. She’s my top priority right now.”

“Understood.” I clapped him on the back as he left, knowing he’d support whatever decision Ames came to regarding Peter. For now, I was focused on getting her past this, in whatever way I could help.

When I returned to the room, Ames was just coming out of the bathroom, hair wet and body wrapped in a towel. She was free of paint, skin splotchy and red in places where she likely had to scrub at the white flecks. The lack of paint meant that her burgeoning bruises were even more pronounced, the one on her cheekbone darker than it was just half an hour ago, and both her wrists were red from where he had gripped her. Her face was still blank as she looked at me for direction, clearly at a loss for what to do next.

I motioned to a bundle of clothes on the bed, having to relax my hands from where they’d tightened into fists while I cataloged her injuries. “You can borrow any of my clothes in the drawers, but I pulled out some sweatpants and a shirt that I thought you’d find comfortable. I’ll be sleeping across the hall.” I hitched a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the guest bedroom before motioning to the door to my bedroom. “There’s a lock on this door if you want to use it.”

I reached to the top of the doorframe, pulling down the key resting on the edge. “This is the only key.” I wrapped her fingers around the key as I left the room. I could pick the lock, sure, but I hoped my reassurances would allow her to get the sleep I knew she needed.

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