Voyeur by Candace Wondrak
Chapter Nineteen – Roman
I would not consider tonight to be a good night, not when Carter and I walked into the Dollhouse and saw a man standing far too close to Zoey. My Zoey. No, I would not consider it a good night when we stepped closer and I realized who he was.
Of course, the dipshit was still going on about how Zoey was his girlfriend, and that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
There was a bit of a crowd around them, but I handled it well. With Carter’s help, soon enough it was only me, Carter, Bryan Oakes, and Zoey in the Dollhouse.
Bryan Oakes. Oh, yes, I knew all about him. Too much, some might say. He was not a very interesting fellow, though he pretended to be to gain everyone’s interest. I had no idea what Zoey ever saw in him, or if she simply dated him to make her family happy. Either way, she would not ever return to a relationship with the fucker.
Zoey stood near the stage, looking anxious, maybe a bit frightened. She looked drop-dead gorgeous in her skin-tight lingerie, but now was not the time to ogle her, as I sat beside Bryan, a small circular table between us. I leaned back in the chair, unbuttoning my suit jacket and watching as Carter strode back to us.
“Did you—” I didn’t have to finish the question, for Carter nodded. Did you lock the doors? Would no one interrupt us? This might just get a little messy, as I would not take this intrusion laying down.
Bryan thought he could waltz back into Zoey’s life, find her and drag her back home? Force her to be with him after he tried to explain the reason he was also seeing her sister behind her back? He was an idiot if he thought that would be the case.
Zoey was mine now, and I would do anything to protect what was mine.
Carter stood beside Zoey, and Bryan noticed how close he was to her, leaning forward in his seat, giving Carter a glare I was certain he thought was intimidating. It wasn’t, of course. Nothing Bryan could do or say would unnerve us.
“So, Bryan Oakes, tell me why you’re here,” I said.
He drew his glare away from Carter, landing it on me as he realized what I said. “How do you know who I am? I never told you—”
“No,” I cut in, frowning, “you didn’t, but I make it a habit to know certain things, Bryan, and that includes the names and faces of those who’ve wronged the people I care about.” I flicked a hand toward Zoey, my gaze heavy on Bryan. “Allow me to warn you right now and let you know that I would not hesitate to do anything for Zoey.”
Bryan scoffed, “The fuck, man? Do you get this close to all of your employees?” To Zoey, he added, “Just wait until I tell your family this is where you’re working—” Whether he sought to make Zoey feel like shit for her choices or not, I didn’t care, for he was under the wrong impression here.
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I interrupted, glancing at Carter, who shifted his weight, ready to leap into action. Being a rich boy, I figured Bryan didn’t have anything on him; he relied on his money to keep him safe. Alas, this was not the place to walk into unprepared. “You must think I’m going to let you walk out of here, to give you the chance to run back home to Hillcrest and tell Zoey’s parents all about this.”
The threat served its purpose, although I would argue it wasn’t a threat; more like a promise. Bryan’s skin paled, and he swallowed as he looked between us. “What—” He got to his feet, but Carter strode over to him, and with one harsh shove, pushed him back into his seat. “Touch me again, and I’ll call the police,” he hissed.
Carter only laughed, while I smirked and said, “Things might be different where you come from, but around here, I work with the police a lot. They don’t ride high horses around here; they like to get as dirty as everyone else.”
Bryan frowned at me, trying to act tough.
I ran a hand along my jaw. “We could always call them. There is no one who can set up a crime scene better than a man in blue, after all. Would you rather go down for drug possession or something else? I’m sure if I ask nicely, they’ll take requests.”
This time he did not address me; this time Bryan spoke to Zoey, “What the hell, Zoey? What is this?”
Zoey said nothing, though she did look stunned at everything I said. Well, if she wanted to be mine, sooner or later she’d have to get dirty, to learn exactly what it was I did. Who better to do that with than her ex, who clearly refused to let her go on with her life?
“I’ll tell you what this is,” I said, sitting up enough to reach in the back of my suit, in the waistband of my pants, beneath my shirt. “This is your last mistake, Bryan Oakes. I know you were fucking Zoey’s sister for months behind her back, and I know how badly you hurt her. I planned on letting you live, but now that you’re here, now that I see your hideous fucking self, I’ve decided I can’t let you walk out of here.”
My fingers curled around cold metal, and I brought it out, setting it on the small table between us. A nine-millimeter Glock, shiny and black. I watched as his eyes dropped to it, as calm as ever as I released my hold on it and left it sitting on the table’s surface.
Bryan was instantly uncomfortable, even more so now that the gun was there. “You can’t be serious,” he muttered, glancing between me and Carter, the latter of which still stood near him, ready to restrain him, if necessary.
I wasn’t worried. The gun might sit in the middle of us, but my reflexes were faster. This was what I did, and I could not lie… I rather enjoyed the dance leading up to the finale.
“You don’t know me, so let me tell you,” I paused, lowering my voice to a bare whisper, “I don’t joke.”
“He’s right,” Carter muttered, “he doesn’t.”
I bet the heart in Bryan’s chest pounded wildly, uncontrollably. I’d bet he never thought this would happen, and that would be his downfall.
“The police would—” Still, he tried to talk about the boys in blue.
“The police here don’t give a shit about you, and they’ll write up whatever report I tell them to,” I said. “Your parents will get a call from them, asking them to come identify your body. Tell me, Bryan, do your parents know you’re a fuckup or will they only realize it when they’re staring at your stiff, motionless corpse?”
That did it. Bryan went for the gun, and though I doubted he’d ever shot any gun in his life, my reflexes were indeed faster than his. My fingers curled around the Glock before he got to it, and I lifted it with a steady arm, right at his head.
“You didn’t think I left that there for you, did you?” I asked, frowning.
Bryan exhaled the shakiest breath I thought I’d ever heard, finally realizing what pile of shit he’d stepped into. “You’re not really going to kill me, are you? All because I came for my girlfriend?”
Pure, unadulterated hatred rose in my heart as I growled out, “She’s not your fucking girlfriend. She’s mine.”
Since he had no other options here, Bryan tried to bolt. He got up, sought to run away like some frightened animal, but Carter had him in a chokehold within a moment, dragging him back to me, forcing him to his knees before me. I got to my feet, taking the safety off the Glock.
Zoey pushed away from the stage, slow to walk around toward me. All of our eyes were on her; Carter’s, mine, Bryan’s. Bryan probably hoped she would step in and save him, be his white knight and let him run away from this night with his life, but even if she asked me to… I didn’t think I could let this insect crawl away.
If I did, he’d be back. He’d come back for her. He’d always try something to reel her back in, and that wasn’t something I could allow.
When Zoey made it out like she wanted to talk to me, I told Carter, “Hold him.” I walked with Zoey into the backroom, where we usually spent our time doing much more private things.
The door closed, and Zoey looked at me, something unreadable in her eyes, the same vacancy I saw that first night we met. Bryan made her feel awful things, and I would do anything to make her feel better.
“Are you…” She paused, glancing up at me as she folded her hands across her chest. “Are you really going to shoot him?”
Shoot him was a bit of an understatement, since I did plan on killing him, but I said, “Yes.”
“And how will this not come back on me? How will this not bite me in the ass?”
I took a step toward her, my gun-free hand reaching out to caress her cheek. “Because I won’t let it. This won’t be on you, Zoey.”
She turned her face into my hand, breathing me in for a moment. Whether or not she believed me, she didn’t say, but I knew she would in time. I would prove to her this night would not ever come to bite her in the ass. “I… I don’t think I want to watch.”
That was a wish I could respect. “Then stay back here. I’ll have Carter come get you when it’s safe.” In other words, when she could walk out of the Dollhouse without getting blood on her pink shoes or seeing his body.
Might be a few hours, but everything came with a price, ignorance especially.
I pulled away from her, my hand falling away from her face as I watched her step back and sit on the couch that had seen a lot of use in my time at the Dollhouse. This time, for once, sex was not on my mind; vengeance was.
Carter stood near Bryan, his head turning to look at me when I exited the backroom, sans Zoey. “What?” he asked. “She doesn’t want to see?” He rolled his eyes. “Women.”
“What—” Bryan tried to speak, but Carter hit him on the back of his head, stopping him.
“How did you find her?” I spoke, acting like my Glock was the most interesting thing in the world, pacing in front of him.
“I hired a private investigator,” he spat out, probably hoping the information would save his life. It wouldn’t; I just needed to tie up every loose end. I didn’t doubt the investigator’s number was in his phone somewhere, or in his emails.
“Give him your phone,” I instructed, and Bryan was slow to reach into his pocket and hand Carter his sleek, crack-free phone. Looked like the newest model, too. It must’ve needed a face to unlock it, for Carter held it in front of Bryan the next moment before scrolling through it.
I knelt before Bryan, meeting his amber eyes. He was sweating, obviously scared now of what he’d walked into. The fool thought he’d storm in here, take Zoey, and leave, just like that. What an idiot. What a fucking idiot.
“Any last words, Bryan Oakes?” I questioned, not really caring either way. A part of me wanted to prolong this moment, to make it last; this was the part of the hunt I so enjoyed. Some people might not like what they did, some people might hate their jobs and loathe their bosses, but I was one of the lucky few who was able to do what I liked—and fortunately for me, it was something I was very good at.
Carter took a step to the side, no longer directly behind him, in the blast’s way, still flipping through his phone in search of that private investigator.
“Last words?” Bryan echoed, head tilting up as he watched me stand. “Yeah, fuck—”
He was probably going to say more, but I didn’t let him. In a split-second, I straightened my arm, pointing the Glock right at his face. I pulled the trigger. The bullet soared from the chamber, splintering through Bryan’s forehead the next moment, the force so great at such a close range his skull cracked in more places than one.
Bryan fell backward, his body twitching for a few seconds before becoming still, the bullet hole in his head bleeding out a bit. Luckily, head wounds were not as messy as, say, neck wounds, but there would still be some cleanup work to do.
While Carter was on Bryan’s phone, I whipped out mine, dialing. When the rough voice answered on the other line, I said, “I need you to come to the Dollhouse, now.” A rumble escaped my chest when he tried to say he was busy. “I don’t care what the fuck you’re doing, Mario. You’ll get your ass here now with all your shit, otherwise I’ll go to your father and tell him—”
That was all I needed to say, for in the next moment, Mario was muttering that he’d be right here. He wasn’t our only cleaner, but I liked bugging him the most, since he tried his best not to involve himself with family business.
I hung up, stepping over Bryan’s corpse to move to Carter. “Anything on that PI?”
“Yeah,” Carter said, gruff. “Some bastard named Stanley. I have his cell, his office number, and even a fax number.” His green eyes flicked to me, waiting for me to say the word.
“We’ll take care of him,” I said, a promise to him, a promise to the dead boy near us.
I was not fibbing when I said there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect Zoey, and if that meant destroying every single bit of her old life that threatened to creep into this one, then so be it. I would make that sacrifice, all the while refusing to give that girl up.
She was mine, and she would remain mine until the day she died.
