Despite their spectacular food, the establishment was known by townsfolk as “Raccoon’s Den,” which essentially meant that any and every raccoon in the area knew that it was the place to be when they were searching for a smorgasbord of a meal in the dumpsters.
Emma thought one of these critters made the sound, likely knocking off trash can lids or even slipping on a windowsill. The owner didn’t know what to do to get rid of them, so he did nothing. The result was constant sounds of shrill creatures fighting or snatching their share of the meals for the day.
She was thankful for it as her heart smacked against the wall of her chest when Ace hurried away with his shoulders hunched over. He looked more like a predator the farther he moved.
Once the blackness had swallowed him whole, without thinking, she took a chance and darted toward the light.
She was proud of finally allowing herself to take flight, but she was still terrified she had done the wrong thing. Could doing the right thing … the reaction her therapist prepared her for … be the very thing that gets her killed?
Emma wore short heels that she slipped off as she ran. The night was dying, which meant so were the club crawlers and bar hoppers. No one looked at her as she went into a full sprint, bare feet slapping against the hard concrete.
She had run for three or four minutes when she finally allowed herself to slow down. She glanced back and saw nothing but streetlights lining the road, so she stopped.
Her body had reacted just as her therapist had told her during times of extreme distress. Her breath whistled in her throat, her heart rattling like an angry bird in a cage. She continued looking behind her to see if Ace followed.
“Jesus,” she said breathlessly.
A few people, likely drunk, walked past her with immature giggles and conversation. She ignored them the way she had learned to disregard everyone in the town who wasn’t a part of the family.
She walked quickly, continuously looking back, and just when she began to breathe normally, she caught a shadow of something truly supernatural looking.
Something long and lean created a silhouette along the sides of the storefronts. Between some of the stores were random vacant lots and even some grassy areas. That was where she could have sworn she saw a cheetah straight out of a nature documentary crawling and curling toward her like a stealthy spy.
Emma forced herself forward as she hailed a cab. They were sparse in this area, but she needed to get home before the hallucinations became a reality.
What the fuck would a cheetah be doing in Chicago? Maybe it was a coyote.
A cab finally pulled over, and she held her breath as she climbed into the back. Her driver was quiet and respectful, which was what she needed to slow down her heart rate.
When Emma reached home, she ran up the stairwell to her apartment. She slammed the door, locking it promptly, and once again found herself leaning against the door.
“For fuck's sake,” she heaved out.
Her apartment was dark and dreary, which she didn’t completely mind. It hid the mess she had put off cleaning for months, hiding the various issues she had yet to address. She had to figure out the Fritz and Benny thing first.
In the kitchen, she put on the kettle for some soothing tea, then she showered, rinsing off the sweat and fear from her night. The hot water, along with the chamomile tea, was enough to take off the edge of her panic.
She removed her towel and hung it on the back of the door, running her hands through her hair. She was finally safe, which meant she could think clearly. She sat on the bed, naked, and drank her tea, breathing in the scent and centering herself.
First, Benny and Fritz.
Her night out had failed in its attempt to distract her from the painful truth … she was in a mob family, and because of that, she had rules to follow and duties to do. It was her responsibility to tell them about the skimming because, in all likelihood, it was going to be her head that would suffer if she didn’t.
It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was something that had to happen.
Then, there was the cheetah.
Emma climbed into bed, wrapping the sheets around her body as she leaned against the bed frame, contemplating what she had seen. She wasn’t one to gaslight herself, but there was no fucking way she had seen a cheetah in the middle of the city. Her fear had played tricks on her mind. There was a logical explanation for it all, she was sure.
She finished off her tea and then placed the mug on her bedside table. She wriggled herself under the sheets, loving the sensation of the softness against her bare skin.
Emma had slept naked for as long as she could remember. It had started with a brief boyfriend and then stuck around when he didn’t. There was something freeing and sexy about it, which instantly brought her to think about Ace.
He was certainly an attractive man. It was unfortunate that he may have been sent by a rival family or even Fritz and Benny. No ... he had referred to them as little shits when he had ordered her to take him home.
His lips had been disastrously close to hers, his breath hot and voice sultry. Her pussy tingled as she fell asleep, the boundaries of her conscious thought shrinking away.
Barely an hour later, Emma awoke with a start. A heavy weight sat on her chest, and someone was holding her by her wrists over her head, as well as a hand clamped over her mouth.