I glare at her as she lists off some of my habits as if they are just as critical as my rule that says I should never date an employee. No words escape my lips, though. I don’t see the point.
“I’m going home,” she announces. “I hope you can find a way to get some rest and some peace. This doesn’t have to be that difficult, Hunter. You fucked her because you like her. You like her because she’s great.” With a knowing shrug, she says, “That’s really all there is to it.”
With that, Leah walks out, leaving me alone in my office, staring at a wall of boxes, wondering if she’s right.
If I date Meg, it’ll change everything for me. Not just the rules—whether or not I can follow them—but it’ll mean I’m putting myself back out there again. I’m taking a chance on whether or not I will get my heart trampled on again. I’m not sure that it’s worth it.
But then…visions of her body come back to my mind, the way she smells, the feel of her as her fingers sink into my muscles, how she squeezed her core to grip my shaft… No, she’s definitely worth the risk. I just have to make sure that she’s safe.
If anything were to ever happen to Meg for any reason, I’d be devastated. If anything were to ever happen to her because of me, I’d die. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if one of these thugs got to her because of me. I’ll have to do everything in my power to make sure that she was safe—at all costs.
With a lot on my mind, I get up and walk into my bedroom. I need a shower to wash the day off of my skin, but if I do that, Meg will be washed off, too. So I’ll stay dirty.
CHAPTER32
MEGHAN
The song from the diner is still stuck in my head as I make my way into my apartment. I can’t help but hum it. I had such a great time with Allie and the other girls. Eating greasy burgers and cheese fries was almost enough to make me forget about what happened with Hunter—almost.
I lock up the Gremlin and head up to my apartment, thinking about all of the things I need to get done. If I keep myself busy, maybe I won’t have to think about Hunter. I hear Mr. Whiskers meowing in the apartment next to mine, and it brings a smile to my face. Maybe I need a cat…but then, I wouldn’t have a lot of time for a pet, and it would have to spend a lot of time by itself while I am at work.
Distracted by the cat, I almost don’t notice that my door is standing open until I go to put the key in the lock. My body freezes up as I think about what might be going on here. It’s been a while since my awful landlord was in my apartment when I came home from work. Is it possible he’s back, looking for whatever the fuck it was he didn’t find the first time he was here?
My keys clatter in my hand as I almost drop them. I don’t hear anything from my apartment, but that doesn’t mean that whoever left the door open isn’t still inside. My heart is hammering in my chest as I try to determine what to do. I take a deep breath and a quiet step forward, sticking my head slightly inside of the living room.
In the darkness, my eyes lock onto a form standing across the room near where the landlord was taking my floor apart, but it’s not him. I do recognize the man, though. I tip my head to the side, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
It’s that guy from the club. The one who was in the room with Hunter and me right before he left and the two of us fucked. What the hell is he doing here?
I remember him saying he wanted to buy this apartment building, but what is he doing in my apartment? A low chuckle escapes his lips as he sees me. “Well, if it isn’t the beauty from the club!”
“What the fu—”
Before I can even get the words out of my mouth, a sharp pain radiates through the back of my head, and everything goes black. I am falling, and the last thing that flashes before my eyes is Hunter’s face.
* * *
My eyes slit open, and I take a look around my apartment, unable to focus on anything. My skull is killing me, and when I try to lift my head, it screams at me in anger. I can’t see anyone in the living room in front of me, and my memories are coming back in fuzzy, slow-motion pictures that aren’t telling me much of anything.
Until I see Hunter’s face flash before my eyes. He’s smiling at me, looking down, his eyes locked on mine as he makes love to me. With that image as a trigger, the events from the time that I found myself back in Hunter’s arms until this very moment all come colliding together, and I suddenly remember that man from the club being in my apartment.
I force myself to lift my head and look around the room. I see them now. It’s not just that asshole who wanted to buy the apartment building who is crouched on the floor, digging up floorboards near the same place that my former landlord was doing the same thing, he has a couple of other thugs with him. They are all muttering under their breath as they take my floors apart.
My apartment door is still slightly ajar, which makes no sense to me. What makes them think I won’t just get up off of this dining room chair and run away? I decide to test just that and push up off of the seat, but my head is screaming at me—loudly. And then…I realize I’m also attached to this fucking chair.
The urge to groan or cry out is overwhelming, but I decide to keep myself quiet so they don’t know I’m awake. Maybe it will allow me to listen in to their conversation a bit and get an idea of what the hell they’re looking for. I have no idea why anyone would be looking in the floorboards of my shitty apartment. Why the hell does everyone want in here so badly?
“Nothing yet, Mr. Nyx, sir?” the other guy says in a gruff whisper as he pulls up another plank.
“Yes, Jimmy. I found the fucking money, and I just forgot to tell you. I like having my hand buried in the floor so fucking much, I decided to keep looking around, you dumbass!” He mutters a few other choice words under his breath, and I can tell he’s being sarcastic.
But I’m also confused. Money—what money? They surely can’t be in here tearing up the floor looking for my tip money. I just went to the bank a few days ago, so all that’s in here is a couple of hundred dollars from my last shift or two. It’s hidden well, but not that well, and from what I can see with my eyes hardly open, they’ve looked everywhere. Furniture is turned on its side, broken glass from my dishes litters the floor. It looks like they’ve even knocked some holes in the drywall. And I just fucking painted!
They don’t seem to notice I’m awake, but then, another man comes in through the open door, swearing under his breath. I can’t help but look at him, he’s so loud. I notice he has blood dripping down his hand and wonder what the hell happened.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouts, practically running me over in his haste to get a towel from the drawer. Great—now he’s bleeding all over my kitchen.
“What the hell happened to you?” the other guy asks.