Prey Drive by Jen Stevens
Chapter 42
the wolf
feels like I’ve somehow cheated my way into Heaven and stolen a slice of it to bring back down to Earth with me. She feels right in my arms. More right than anything I deserve in this turbulent waste of a lifetime. A good man would let her go. He would free her from the burdens she has no knowledge of by staying with me.
I suppose it's for the best that I'm not a good man.
I was late meeting her up here last night, caught up in a string of emails I found on my father’s account. I’d hacked into it weeks ago, but haven’t had the time to comb through everything as thoroughly as I’d like. Finally, I found a deleted thread of emails from the week before Sienna was killed, and time stood still as I read through each and every incriminating message that served to guarantee the deaths of at least three more men—my father included. Hours later, I made my way up to Stardust’s room, thoroughly irritated, to find her fast asleep, and I couldn’t resist. I needed the release and, as always, she was more than willing to help me find it.
We’ve each just reached our respective climaxes, exhausted from a long night of discovering each other’s bodies like a familiar, distant land that we’re only just returning to. I got a solid three hours of sleep before rolling over and finding her there, and then started all over again. I’ve spent so much time inside of her, we’re dangerously close to walking into the office late and conjoined together.
Not that I could give a fuck what anyone thinks. But she does, and if something matters to her, I’m realizing that my brain suddenly makes it a priority for me as well.
“Tell me more about you,” she says with a jovial lilt to her voice, and I can't help the way my stomach drops at her request.
I’d do anything to keep the content glow radiating off of her right now. To make the sparkle in her eyes more permanent. But I can’t give her what she wants. The more she knows, the higher the chance she’ll want to run in the other direction. At one point, I couldn’t have cared less what she did. But now? Now, I’m afraid that losing her would be like having the air sucked right out of my lungs. And while I absolutely refuse to let her go, it's entirely possible that this strong force of a woman might manage to knock me down and leave anyway when she finds out the truth.
“Didn’t you already have a crash course on me in your training yesterday?” I ask, smirking, though the whole idea of her sitting through a presentation that practically outlines every time I’ve taken a shit in New York makes me want to vomit. That’s another argument I lost against Eliza.
“You’re building more than a business here. You’re building a community. These people want to know who they’re working for, and Lord knows you won’t be leaving your office to show them,”she had said when I argued against it. In the end, she won and, of course, she was right. My employees feel much closer to me, and I’ve hardly had to lift a finger.
Although, now that Stardust has gone through that embarrassing presentation, I’m considering the idea of revisiting that argument with Eliza.
“Yeah, but all of that was stuff I could have found out about you with a quick google search. I want to know more. You practically know my entire life story, and all I’ve got is your resume.”
With a heavy sigh, I lift my eyes to the ceiling and try to pull some menial fact about myself out of thin air that won’t make her want to scream.
What are my hobbies?Torturing and killing people.
What do I do in my spare time?Hunt the people I plan to torture and kill. And occasionally stalk you.
What’s my relationship like with my family?Well, I’m currently running through a list of people to torture and kill because they murdered my sister. Oh, you want to know about my parents? Well, my mother is practically catatonic and my father’s danced his way onto said list of people I want to torture and kill.
See how this might get a little sticky?
“I’ve already told you, I’m not a good person. There’s nothing else to tell.”
A frustrated groan vibrates against her chest, and she sits up against the headboard, pulling the sheet up in a hurry. She doesn’t notice when the soft fabric slips through her fingers, exposing her left breast to the brightening morning light. My eyes linger on her chest for a long moment, appreciating the soft milkiness of her skin.
“Why do you do that?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
I’m too amused by her comical show to remember what I said to frustrate her so badly. “Do what?”
“You pretend that you’re this horrible person, yet you’ve done all these amazing things. It’s like you want me to hate you.”
“You’ve said so yourself: I’m a monster,” I remind her, throwing her words back into her face.
When she tilts her head and stares at me impatiently, it’s as if her cruel words from less than twenty-four hours ago don’t count anymore. But they do. They count more than anything, because that was her opinion of me before she had every bullshit lie shoved down her throat by my assistant. It's easy for me to accept that the rest of the world may perceive me that way. It's harder when it comes from someone I care about. My natural defense is to lean into it—to push her away before she destroys me like she inevitably will.
Working my jaw, I narrow my eyes at her. I don’t know when she’s going to get it. Why does she insist on seeing this imaginary side of me?
“For every good thing I’ve done, there’s a much worse thing to counter it. Sure, I can throw money at charities and offer my employees livable salaries. I can create a company that helps people, and pretend to be some honorable philanthropist, just like every other rich asshole in this world. But I’m not a saint. No matter what I do, you can’t rationalize my sins with a few weak attempts at redemption. I’m still the monster lurking in your shadows.”
“Something tells me that’s just the mask you choose to wear to push people away…”
“No, it’s not a mask. It’s the real me, Stardust. I’ve done horrible, unthinkable things in the name of revenge.”
I can see I’ve upset her, though she’s trying like hell to hide it from me. Despite her best efforts, a single tear leaks from her eye and rolls down her cheek, and my strong little lamb doesn’t even bother wiping it away. She tucks her chin into her chest stubbornly, eyes cast down at her wringing hands.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she says brokenly into her lap. “You tell me all these horrible things, expecting me to run in the opposite direction, and I know that’s what I should be doing. Anyone in their right mind would run straight to the police after what you’ve done to me. But I can’t fucking do it. It’s still not enough to make me bail on you, because I know you. I know you probably have a good reason to do all of that. And I think that says more about me than anything else.”
“Look at me,” I command, placing my fingers beneath her chin delicately to guide her head upward. Once those beautiful, mahogany eyes land on mine, I tell her, “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect in every single fucking way.”
More tears spill over, and her face crumples. “Then why can’t I walk away?”
“For the same reason I can’t seem to stay away to keep you safe: we were made for each other. Even though you’re the brightest fucking star in the galaxy, and I’m just a black hole that sucks the life out of everything. Even though being with me could completely implode your life. You make everything feel less hopeless.”
“That makes no sense,” she says through a sad chuckle, tears still streaming down her reddened face.
“No, it doesn’t, but who said anything has to make sense? If it feels good, why can’t we just run with it?”
Who the hell is this mushy bastard speaking for me right now? Sebastian Lancaster doesn’t spew shit like this. But Jovie has changed me, and I can’t decide if it’s for the better. It was easier being a shell of a person, void of emotions or responsibility to anyone else. To walk through life and do the things I need to do without the constant fear that the things that matter the most to me won’t be taken away.
Maybe a part of me died with Sienna, and Jovie has stumbled along to bring it back to life.
“What time is it?” she asks in a sudden panic, her back shooting straight up to look around for a clock.
My gaze slips over to the alarm clock sitting on the dresser across from me, and hers follows. As soon as she sees that it’s past seven, she jumps out of bed, a string of cuss words falling from her mouth that makes me smile as she hops over me and begins running around the room, gathering her clothes.
“Turns out, I know the boss. He doesn’t give a shit if you’re on time,” I try to reassure her, taking my time to swing my legs over the side of the bed and strolling toward the bathroom for a quick shower.
“I already know you’re perfectly content walking into that building an hour late with me at your side, looking like I just rolled out of your bed. But I caught enough shit yesterday about you. There’s no way in hell I’m walking in late, especially like this.”
That gives me pause. “Who gave you shit?” I’m asking from the doorway, ready to fire whoever disrespected my little lamb on her first day.
Shaking her head, she hugs her clothes to her chest, effectively covering her beautiful tits from my view. Her hair is a tousled mess on top of her head, her cheeks painted a deeper red now that she’s been rushing around. I don’t think she could look any more fucking perfect.
“No one. I need to shower.”
“Save time and shower with me,” I offer, leaning my palm against the top of the door jamb to give her a full, uninterrupted view of what I’m offering. My smile falls when she rolls her eyes and blows out an exasperated breath.
“Something tells me that will take far more time than I have.” She shoulders past me into the bathroom, ignoring me completely. The water turns on, and I’m long forgotten as she hops into the spray and begins lathering soap into her hair.
I head wordlessly down to my room to take a shower alone and get ready for another day of work with Stardust, grateful I managed to bullshit my way through her interrogation.
One day, I’ll tell her everything. I’ll lay it all out and give her the chance to decide what she wants to do with me—a sadistic murderer driven to madness in my unrelenting quest for revenge. Until then, I’m savoring every single moment she offers me.