I park the car at the curb and cross the street, staring up at the illuminated window. I can see her shadow pacing on the other side of the curtain. I press her buzzer even though I have had a key made to let myself in.
Too far? Probably.
There isn’t much I couldn’t do in this city. I’m sure if she understood the full extent, she’d change her name and move countries.
She doesn’t use the call function, instead she buzzes me in. I take the stairs slowly and when I get to her floor, her door is already open for me. I find her in the kitchen, two bottles of wine on the table, one empty, the other halfway there. She sits on the chair, the stemless wineglass dangling from her fingers as she looks up at me from beneath her lashes. Her lids are hooded, but she doesn’t appear drunk, at least not yet.
I snatch the glass from her hand and then pour the glass and the rest of the bottle down the drain.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” She screeches.
“I need you wholly present,” I seethe, “that means no more alcohol.”
“You could have just put the lid on,” she huffs, crossing her arms.
I take her in then, the tight leggings covering her legs and the oversized sweater concealing her curves from me. Her hair is wet and in a messy bun atop her head. So very normal. My complete opposite. Innocent. I’m sure she could live a normal happy life if I left right now, if I forgot she existed and she me, but I wasn’t prepared to take my claws from her.
There was something about Eleanor Locke, something that has buried itself under my skin. She was becoming somewhat of an addiction and that was only after a few days, what could happen if I had her with me for a prolonged period of time?
I’d ruin her.
This obsession, it would destroy her. Tear her apart and blacken her soul. What kind of man did it make me that even knowing that, I still wasn’t willing to let her go?
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Well, I was enjoying a glass of wine and my own company, but you just had to show up and ruin it, didn’t you?”
“You wound me,” I mock, “Does someone need to let off a little steam?”
I know I did.
“Fuck you.”
“We’ve done that, I wouldn’t mind reliving the experience.”
Her eyes narrow and the muscles in her jaw jump as she grinds her teeth, “Say your piece and be done with it.”
“Do you truly believe it would be that easy?” I cross the room, stopping across the table from her where I then plant my hands, and lean over. I’m close enough to smell the fresh scent of her shampoo and the moisturizer on her skin. Close enough to notice the freckles on her nose and cheeks. She wets her lips and leans further away.
There would be no escaping me.
She tries to jump up and move away but I’m quicker, I’m around the table and grabbing her by the arms, pinning her to the chair before she can fully lift herself from it, “We had a bargain, there’s no backing out now, Eleanor, I own you.”
She turns her head, breaking my stare. I pinch her chin, forcing her to look at me, “We can do this all night, love, it’s down to you. If you want to continue acting like a brat, I’ll happily wait. Perhaps we can teach you a lesson in the meantime.”
Her nostrils flare, “Just get it over with, Kingston.”
Before I do, I let her go, heading across the room to make coffee. She sits stiffly in the chair, keeping her eyes forward, never once looking over to me where I hover behind her. When the coffee is made, I take the seat next to her and turn to face her. She doesn’t offer the same, so I force it, grabbing her chair to spin it, the legs grinding on the floor, the noise of it loud and violent in the quiet of the room.
“You’re a fucking animal.” She hisses.
“Get used to it.”
This side of her, this fiery temper, it was almost as good as the innocence, almost as sweet.
I nudge the coffee towards her and hold my own in my hands, “Your boss, Tobias, we have already established he’s not who he says he is.”
A barely there nod.
“He and his son belong to an organization, one not listed on any website or in any books. They thrive on blood and money. Their main source of income is the sale of women. Girls.”
Eleanor pales.
“They have Tate.” She whispers.
“It is likely, but keep listening.”
It didn’t matter what I told her about the Syndicate, it wasn’t me I was incriminating. If she chose to leak it all, none of it would fall on my head, but I doubted it would do much to them either, and she would be silenced just as quickly as the news was extinguished.