I’d known better than to go after Jesse when my mood had been as dark as it was last night, so sending him on his way had been the kindest thing I could’ve done after he’d awoken disoriented and confused. It was best to let him resurface in the comfort of his own home, around familiar belongings, than for him to try and make sense of what we had done and what had gone wrong while still at the scene of the almost-crime. Plus, I didn’t trust myself around him. I didn’t trust myself not to convince him to try again, and his ingenious nature made him naturally susceptible. After all, I’d taken the shape of everything he was drawn to. I’d tapped into his most sordid fantasies and made him want to live them. I’d made myself his every desire. I finally had Jesse where I wanted him.
As I took a right turn and navigated the vehicle up the next section of the mountain, rain began to fall against my windshield as I thought back to the phone call I’d made to Jesse around forty minutes earlier—the one that had been answered by Brayden.
“I’m not going to bother with bullshit hellos. He doesn’t want to see you. Stop calling him.”
Orders…I was familiar with both giving and having them followed. The key was to always issue them to someone who would obey. Not to issue them to someone who would take it as a direct challenge. Unfortunately for Brayden, his skill at determining which of those two categories I fell into was sorely lacking, which he would soon discover when I brought his challenge directly to his goddamn door.
When I reached the top plateau of the mountain, where the driveways were short dirt paths off the main road to the gated properties that wound down to the main homes nestled on the hillside, I directed my car past the driveway I’d seen Jesse pull Pretty Baby into weeks ago. I chose to park my car down on the shoulder where I’d left my Range Rover the night I’d tracked Jesse back to Brayden’s house.
You want me to stop calling, do you? Then how about I just pay you a visit instead, Mr. Fairchild. Up here on your mountainside.
The sky opened up overhead as I switched off the engine and extinguished the headlights, and as the car plunged into the darkness of the stormy night, I zipped up my hoodie and tugged up the black hood. I shoved open the car door, and the gravel crunched under my sneakers as I straightened and looked around the deserted road. It was a fair bet that not many people would be using the roadway tonight. It was a hazardous road under the best conditions, but under ones like tonight, no one dared make the trek up to Breakaway Point unless they had no other choice.
I locked the car and stuffed the keys into my pocket, then looked out at the thick scrub and pines that covered the precipitous drop down the side of the mountain. The rain was falling harder now, and if it hadn’t been for the storm brewing above, I would’ve taken off down there like I had that first night. Instead, I shoved my hands in my pockets, made my way back up the road to Brayden’s driveway, and walked up to the iron gate that protected the property. I studied it for a minute, before looking to my left and then my right, searching for and finding, ah yes, a place for me to climb over it.
A little way down to the right of the towering fence was a tree whose branches I knew I could get up on with little to no effort, and two minutes later, I was over the first line of defense.
Stupid little shit. Did he really think he could keep me from my lamb? Did he really think I would let Jesse go so easily? I had sent him away last night to save him from himself. To save him from me. But now that I was back in control, it was time to get back the one I controlled.
My feet landed with a thump on the damp undergrowth littering Brayden’s property, and I narrowed my eyes, taking in my surroundings as I set off down the drive that led to the house. The good thing about the ostentatious homes up here was that they were spread out on several acres of land. That meant no one was around. Which, in turn, meant no witnesses.
I glanced at my watch. It had just turned nine forty—late-ish, but not late enough that these two would be asleep—and as I approached Brayden’s home, my determination to leave with Jesse set in tenfold.
The rain had soaked through the hoodie by this stage, but it didn’t faze me in the slightest. I approached the house and made a mental note of the large glass windows on the lower floor and balcony on the second that jutted out over the front door. Two thick columns flanked the front entrance, and as I stepped up onto the small porch, I pushed my finger to the doorbell. I doubted Brayden had video security on this property. First, because I hadn’t seen any cameras, and I had been looking both nights I’d been here. And second, because he believed that up here behind his security fence of iron, he was safe. That might’ve been the case—before I walked into his life.