Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security #2) - Marie James Page 0,77
she’s concerned, I think I’ve got to be the big hero.
I shoot off a silent text to Braden, but even after he assures me all is quiet and safe around my apartment, I can’t stop the regret of being here instead of there. I text Whitney a meme I found earlier, afraid actual words would betray my anxiety, but she doesn’t text back. She’s probably asleep on the couch. The woman has been through hell the last couple of days.
I fist my hands in my lap, bending at the waist and trying to get the memory of Jones coming into her apartment mere seconds after she left out of my mind. He was there to murder her, and I can’t express how grateful I am for the stars lining up that day.
Commotion sounds from the other side of the door, and like a coward, I flinch with each grunt and thump. I don’t charge out of the bathroom and distract BBS while they stop the man who wanted to hurt my woman. I cower because I’m only a fucking warrior when I have a screen in front of me and a keyboard at my fingertips. I’ve never felt more like a failure before in my damn life, and I can’t even look up when the door opens and Flynn tells me it’s over.
Some fucking hero I am.
“Is he still here?” I snap, my bravado somehow finally deciding to show up.
“FBI has him,” Flynn says. “Let your girl know she’s safe.”
My hands move immediately to my phone and I fire off the text message I know Whitney has been waiting to receive.
My apartment calls to me with a need like I’ve never felt before. I’m able to picture the things I plan to do to her later in celebration as I follow the guys out of the shitty hotel room. We all pile into the SUV.
“Swing me by my place,” I tell Brooks who’s in the driver’s seat. “I’ll grab my car some other time.”
“Eager little beaver aren’t we,” Flynn teases from the passenger seat. “We have to go straight to BBS.”
“What?”
“Paperwork waits for no man,” Ignacio says with a clap to my damn back.
“It’s on the fucking way,” I argue. “Just slow down and I’ll roll out of the motherfucker.”
Everyone laughs then, but Brooks doesn’t slow down. Hell, he drives right past the front entrance of my building.
“Fucker,” I mutter, my eyes scanning to the top in hopes of finding her looking down even though my apartment is on the backside.
Gaige tries to tie me up in conversation the minute the SUV is in park back at the BBS building, but I just flip him the bird and climb in my car, ignoring the hoots and hollers at my back as I walk away. The whistles seep into my soul and I’m humming along to a tune only I can hear when I climb off the elevator on my floor.
I don’t engage with Braden as I pass. Flynn assured me he’d call the guards off just as soon as Jones was booked into the jail. Whitney doesn’t greet me at the door on her knees with her mouth open and willing like I’d let myself imagine on the short drive back here.
I wasn’t much of a hero tonight, so I don’t really deserve a hero’s welcome, but I decide not to let the disappointment cloud my happiness. She’s safe, and that’s all that really matters. The finer details aren’t important at all. All I care about is working on building this amazing relationship with her.
Simon doesn’t come running with his tail crooked, so he must be passed out on my bed again. My smile doesn’t falter when I find the living room and the kitchen empty. If anything, it gets wider when I find the guest bedroom empty too. Anticipation is thrumming under my skin. If this woman is naked in my bed, I’m going to have to worry about her sore pussy later because there’s no way I’m going to be able to turn down her willingness.
My bed isn’t empty, but rather than a gorgeous naked purple-haired goddess, a lone box is all I find in the center.
My heart stops. It doesn’t skip one but many, many beats as I stand in the doorway with my eyes glued to the noxious box. It’s in no way different from any other delivery box, yet this box just dropped a bomb right in the middle of my life.