Chapter Five

AS Thorpe waltzed out the door, Callie fumed. He’d walked away from her, after he’d promised not to. He’d utterly humiliated her—again. All that pleasure he’d poured on her, all those shiver-worthy words about never letting her get away . . . Then poof! He’d gotten up and left.

If he didn’t have so much of her heart, she’d gleefully smack him upside the head. As it was, she didn’t know how she was going to look Thorpe in the eye again without being completely mortified that she’d thrown herself at him. Seeing that it hadn’t been at all difficult for him to leave her naked and ready only hurt worse. She was tired of the constant pain of his rejection.

And then there was Sean. He’d said he loved her—without hesitation, out loud, resounding with total conviction. But he wasn’t going to rest until he knew every one of her secrets.

It was definitely time for her to leave Dominion ASAP.

The feelings blooming in her heart for her sexy Dom were too big, too much, too overwhelming. Was that how Thorpe felt? Callie sighed. Was Sean even speaking to her anymore? The thought that he might not tore everything out of her chest.

How the hell could she be foolish enough to fall for two men, especially when they couldn’t stand one another?

Crap, her head hurt from all the circles her thoughts were turning.

When she’d asked earlier, Lance told her that Sean had been forcibly and indefinitely removed from the premises. Callie winced. She’d bet that had gone over well. And she could only imagine what he was thinking. Did he know that Thorpe had given her more than a spanking? It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that her helpful boss had volunteered the information.

Somehow—and soon—she had to talk to Sean. If she intended to rescind his collar, she should have the moxie to do it to his face. She owed him that much before she slipped out of his life for good. No idea how to start that conversation. I’m so sorry I almost boinked my boss after having sex with you. She snorted. Brilliant idea.

The comforter Thorpe had thrown over her earlier shielded her from Lance—not that he cared. Nope, he stood over her, all leather and gloating smiles. He was enjoying being Thorpe’s right hand. He’d always said she lacked discipline. Since he was a big believer in corporal punishment, she could just imagine what he had in mind.

Been there, done that already tonight. Her backside still throbbed. She didn’t need more from a guy whose palm itched because he hadn’t yet had the chance to spank his boy’s ass.

“You don’t have to stand over me, you know,” she pointed out.

With a shrug of his shoulders, his leather vest skimmed his leanly muscled torso. “I enjoy pissing you off.”

He always had. A practical jokester and a big tease, Lance’s laughter was infectious. It would be funny someday that he was poking fun at her. Just not today.

“Gee, thanks. I assume I’m allowed to eat something.”

Lance gestured her toward the door. “Feel free. You know where the kitchen is.”

Callie tugged at the cuffs holding her to the bed frame and sent him an expectant expression.

“Picky, picky. I’ll get the key from Thorpe.” He grinned at her. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Lance, I swear I’m going to throw something at you.” She heaved a big sigh.

“Try it. Want to guess what will happen?”

Someone would paddle her good, probably Lance himself. Pass . . .

“Hurry. Please. I’m really hungry,” she lied.

He took pity on her and stopped teasing. “Okay. I’ll be right back, little vixen.”

As the door closed behind Lance, she waited impatiently. Thorpe seemed determined to separate her from Sean . . . but she didn’t understand. It wasn’t as if he really wanted her. Why be so hell-bent on keeping her at Dominion if he had no intention of making her his own? Probably because he enjoyed giving her the ultimate mindfuck. All the more reason to leave.

Moments later, Lance appeared with the key and uncuffed her.

“Thorpe says you’re free to roam the premises. No leaving and no socializing. You get something to eat, see if there’s anything pressing that needs your attention, then you come back here. Understood?”

Callie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Sure.”

“I’ll be watching you on the floor.”

She didn’t doubt Lance meant that, especially when he wandered out of her room, pointing a pair of fingers to his eyes, then to her own.

“I got it!” She sighed impatiently.

“That’s almost insolent,” he cautioned.

“Sorry.” Long fucking day. “Hunger doesn’t bring out the best in me.”

“I’ll let you slide this time. Don’t do it again . . .”

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured to placate him, throwing in a bat of her lashes. He would probably miss the finer points of that gesture, but just in case.

Lance burst out laughing as he left the room. “Oh, Thorpe has his hands full with you.”

Once she was alone, Callie reached onto the floor, fishing in her purse to find her phone. Then she hesitated. What was she going to do, just call Sean and apologize? Maybe it would be better done face to face. As she was severing their bond? Very classy . . . What if he didn’t want to see her again? Or even talk to her? Soon, it wouldn’t even matter. She’d get another phone in a new town—a different number with a blank slate of contacts. Start over once more in a place where she knew no one. Winter was coming. Phoenix might be good . . .

She was still trying to decide how to proceed when she glanced at the little device. Dead. Crap, she really needed to remember to charge it once in a blue moon.

Depressed as hell, she plugged in her phone, then tossed on her robe and marched down to Thorpe’s office. She tried the handle. Locked. And he didn’t answer a single one of her banging knocks or demands to be let in. True, he might not be inside, but it was also possible Thorpe was completely avoiding her. Callie’s money was on the latter.

She still planned to be gone from Dominion no later than tomorrow, but the bastard had her car keys and suitcases. And a chunk of her heart. She had to retrieve at least the first two and move on.

With an agitated shake of her head, she wandered out to the dungeon floor and cleaned up after a few customers, wiping down after some others. She gathered dirty towels and put them in the laundry room, then distributed fresh bottles of water to the coolers. She stocked bins all around with fresh blankets for Doms to wrap their subs in when it was time for aftercare. A hopping Friday night . . .

Axel had glared at her from across the concrete floor, scowling around what looked like a developing black eye. She didn’t have to ask how he got it. His growl about her “asshole Dom” when he passed by said it all.

Suddenly, Lance strode toward her with a disparaging glance. “Your pizza is here, vixen. Or should I say your highness?”

“Pizza?” She hadn’t ordered one. In fact, she hadn’t thought about food at all once Lance had let her go.

Who the hell would imagine that she’d want food when her entire life was in turmoil? Not Thorpe. He knew better. Had someone pulled a practical joke on her? The first person she’d suspect, Lance, wore an expression of disapproval, not mirth.

“Yes, and the delivery guy is at the back door, insisting that he give it to you personally.”

This could be a trick. What if it was some police ploy? But why a pizza delivery man when they could come in with badges flashing and guns blazing, then just arrest her? Yeah, that was a more likely scenario. Which meant the pizza had probably been sent by someone who couldn’t readily talk to her.

Sean?

“Sure. Let me get my wallet.”

Lance sighed. “It’s paid for. I tried, but he said you’d given him a credit card over the phone.”

Probably Sean.

“Right,” she agreed readily. “I’m so hungry that I totally forgot. Food. Let me get that.”

Shaking his head, Lance walked away.

Callie ran to the back door. Sure enough, a gangly, pimple-faced teenager stood there with a pizza box in hand. The smells of basil and oregano wafted from the cardboard as he shot her a smile.

“Callie Ward?” He looked her up and down with a leer.

“Yes,” she said cautiously, self-consciously drawing the edges of her robe closer together, making damn sure everything was covered.

“For you. From a ‘friend.’” He winked.

Definitely Sean.

With a stupid grin, she took the box from the boy, noting that one side was a bit heavier than the other. He turned away without another word, so she shut the back door, then headed to her room.

Locking herself inside her private domain, she lifted the lid. Inside, half a warm pizza lay, brimming with cheese, pepperoni, pineapple, and mushrooms. Her favorite. Sean had remembered. Despite the dim day, that made her smile.

The other half of the box was another story. Partitioned away from the pizza by a piece of cardboard lay a white rectangle shrink-wrapped in plastic. She stared at it, blinking a few times. A yellow sticky note on top had almost blended in with its background, but as soon as she flipped on a light, she saw that the left half said Eat Me with an arrow pointing to the pizza. The other half said Open Me.

What was this, Alice in Wonderland?

Callie lifted a piece of the pie to her mouth and took a bite, surprised to find that she was hungrier than she’d imagined. She moaned as the flavor burst on her tongue. So good . . .

But curiosity was killing her.

She plucked the plastic-wrapped bundle out of the other half of the pizza box. Immediately, the size and weight told her it was a computer. Why would he send her one? She owned a laptop. It was old, but it worked.

She pulled the device from the industrial plastic protecting it. A brand-new shiny silver unit with a familiar piece of half-eaten fruit on the front. Over that was another note that read Turn Me On.

Was this his roundabout way of sending her a message, despite Thorpe throwing him out of the club?

With a careful nudge of the unit’s top lid, she opened it, taking just a moment to revel in how gorgeous it was. This had to have cost him a small fortune.

Peering intently at the machine, she hit the button to power it on. Someone had already gone through the setup and registration process for her. It came up with a desktop picture of a flower. The profile name matched her own.

Another sticky note across the keyboard read Three Guesses . . .

She’d never seen Sean’s playful side and she liked it.

With a smile, she bit her lip and pondered. What would Sean have used as a password. She tried his name. The operating system didn’t recognize that. Then another idea came to mind, and she typed it in.

L-O-V-E-L-Y.

That did it. Seconds later, she was in. A familiar Internet video chat program tried to load. Quickly, she tapped in the club’s Wi-Fi password. A second later, the software began calling Sean. He answered immediately, looking wrung out and worried, his tie loose, his hair messy as if he’d dragged his fingers through it a million times.

“Callie, are you all right?”

She swallowed down her nervousness. “Yes. Of course. I . . .” Have no idea what to say.

“Have you eaten the pizza? I know you, and I’m betting you haven’t taken the time tonight to fill your belly.”

Even when she’d handled everything wrong and hurt his feelings, Sean still put her needs first. Tears pricked at her eyes. What was she ever going to do without him?

“Not much, but I will. It smells heavenly. I’ve just been . . . worried about you. I saw Axel’s black eye and—”

Sean laughed, his grainy image grinning on the screen. “He looks far worse than me, lovely. Of that, I assure you.”

His assertion surprised her. No one ever got the best of Thorpe’s security director. He’d been bouncing heads for years. How had one man who wasn’t as big as Mount Axel managed to damage him and come out without a scratch? Luck, maybe.

“I’m so relieved to hear it. I’ve seen Axel really mess guys up before.” She drew in a deep breath, her mind racing. “I don’t understand why Thorpe threw you out. If anyone is at fault, it’s me. You said something beautiful, and I panicked.”

“You must know exactly how jealous Thorpe is.”

Sean had the situation so wrong. “No, he’s just concerned.”

“Because he wants you. But I don’t care about Thorpe now. He can’t keep us apart for long. I’ll find a way to you, lovely. I always will.” He paused, looking at her intently. “I wish I could touch you now and show you how much I meant those words I said earlier.”

Callie’s heart stuttered. Sean actually loved her. He hadn’t simply blurted it in the heat of passion. After nearly seven months, most of them as his submissive, it still stunned her. But hadn’t she worried that she was falling in love with him herself just a few hours ago?

“I’m really sorry I ran,” she murmured. “You startled me.”

“Don’t you care for me even a bit?” He frowned, that furrow between his blue eyes deep and troubled.

Even if she couldn’t stay and fulfill the promise of the burgeoning love between them, she wouldn’t be dishonest with Sean. She couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him more than she was already going to. “I care about you very much. So much that it scares me sometimes.”

“Ah, lovely. I won’t hurt you. You can let go and fall into my arms. I’ll catch you.”

How wonderful that sounded. Callie pressed a hand over her trembling lips. She wished she could stay and do exactly what he wanted. But that was a stupid fantasy. The reality was that she’d already way overstayed her time at Dominion.

Her heart railed, and she wanted to scream at the uselessness of her feelings. What would Sean do if she stayed and the law caught up to her? Or, heaven forbid, if he ever figured out who she was?

So she had to remain strong and do what was best for both Sean and Thorpe. If they knew the danger that lurked around her every corner, they’d want to help. They might even insist on protecting her. Callie refused to let them risk themselves. It was her problem, her cross to bear. Her shit to deal with.

“I’m trying,” she told him.

But after today, it had to stop. By tomorrow, she had to slip out of his life, away from Dominion, Thorpe, and Dallas—everything meaningful to her. Maybe she’d go to Seattle, instead. The frequent rain would match her mood.

“I know you are.” He sent her a reassuring smile. “Tell me, what did the bastard do when he had you alone in your room.”

Callie froze, sure that her face looked awfully deer-in-the-headlights. If she told him the truth, there’d be trouble. “N-nothing much.”

“Don’t you lie to me, lovely. I’ll paddle you but good. I heard your cries of passion wailing down the halls.”

Damn it! She wished the video feature wasn’t on. He could probably see the guilt crawling all over her face. How was she going to get out of this without riling Sean to the point of wanting to kill Thorpe?

“What did he tell you?”

Sean’s blue eyes narrowed. “I expect an answer from you. The truth, mind you. I might be able to forgive you being confused. But if he forced you into anything, I’ll take his bloody head off.”

Blurting that excuse, then running away would only leave the two men behind without her as a buffer. Not a good idea when tempers were running high. “He kissed me. He . . . touched me.”

“And you liked it.” He ground his teeth, jaw tight. “Pull off your robe. Now.”

She started to refuse, but she’d rather take Sean’s anger herself than have him unleash it on Thorpe.

She stood and let the silk skim down her arms until it puddled on the floor.

“Stand closer to the camera so I can look at you. And bend so I can see your breasts.”

Callie stepped forward and did as he commanded, letting him look his fill.

“Where’s your collar?”

Now wasn’t the time to explain that even if she’d been wearing it, the bit of bling wouldn’t be a symbol of their relationship much longer. She’d explain tomorrow. And once she’d assumed a new identity, Sean would be nothing but a sweet memory. He would forget her, surely.

“I was getting ready to take a shower,” she lied gently.

His mouth thinned into an even firmer line. “All right, then. Show me your belly and your cunt. Slowly.”

Her entire body flushing, she adjusted the laptop lid until the webcam took in the lower half of her body as she stood frozen still for him.

“Beautiful, as always. Sit back and spread your legs.” As soon as she reclined on the bed and parted her thighs, he moaned in appreciation. “Is that where Thorpe touched you?”

“Yes.” Her voice shook.

“Show me how.”

“You want me to touch myself?” The thought of displaying her self-pleasure was both uncomfortable and arousing.

“I do. I want to see you come and I want you to be thinking about me this time.”

Between his possessive words and his narrow-eyed demand, she shivered. “A-all right.”

“Good. I’ve spent months touching myself and thinking of you, lovely. I want to see you do the same for me. I want to be the only one on your mind as you feel pleasure.”

Those words shouldn’t excite her so much, but an image of Sean, eyes closed, body tense with need, his big hand roughing up and down his cock, made her ache.

Suddenly, touching herself wasn’t a hardship. Tonight, she’d felt more pleasure than she had in the last five years put together. No way she should be ready to orgasm again. But after Sean’s gruff voice grinding out such a wicked suggestion, need bubbled right under her clit.

“Now, Callie,” he snapped.

She eased back on her elbows and bent her knees, craning her neck to make sure that Sean still had a view of her pussy in the camera.

“I see you, lovely. Go on.”

His hard voice had deepened, his Scottish accent thickening. She swallowed against lust, then slid her fingers down her belly, right between her legs.

Sean’s demand didn’t exactly have the effect he desired. The second her fingers caressed her hard, burning clit, Thorpe slipped into her thoughts. The memory of his mouth on her, eating her voraciously, then sliding up her body to demand that she come for him wouldn’t be banished. But in her head, Sean watched, making the demand as Thorpe slid his fingers and tongue all over her. Her skin sizzled. Her desire flared. In a perfect world, she could admit to wanting them both—and wishing desperately that they desired her.

The fantasy was totally unrealistic, but she couldn’t stop it from barreling past her good sense to make her spin out of control.

With her free hand, she tweaked her nipples, imagining that Sean’s fingers plucked the sensitive buds, his hot breath falling in her ear as he told her that she looked seductive while Thorpe ate her into a frenzy and swallowed her down. Then they would both fuck her, Sean filling her sensitive pussy and Thorpe driving into her ass, until . . .

Callie cried out as the peak crashed into her. She jolted, her back arching, her fingers rubbing frantic circles on the pulsing bud between her legs.

“Lovely . . .” Sean’s voice sounded gruff before he groaned long and loud in pleasure.

The sound brought her back to herself. Callie blinked and sat up, then reached for her robe, drawing it over her breasts as she panted. She felt like a terrible human being. Sean loved her. She loved him—but she couldn’t manage to banish Thorpe from her heart.

“I didn’t say that you could move, much less cover yourself. I’m not done with you yet.” He looked more relaxed, but she wouldn’t call him happy.

Still struggling to catch her breath, she bared herself again. Sean had seen it all. What was there to peep at now?

“Get back in position and don’t move until I tell you,” he commanded gruffly.

Closing her eyes, Callie gave herself over to Sean. It would be the last time she’d ever experience submission, most likely. Even if she sometimes fought it, she craved it. She intended to savor these precious moments.

Rocking back on her elbows, she spread her legs again for him.

“Scoot closer.”

The entire camera had to be one big close-up of her cooch. But she didn’t argue, just complied. Then she waited.

“Like that, yes.”

Sean remained silent for a long minute, and she could all but feel his eyes on her. In her fantasy, he climbed his way up her body with nips and kisses, then impaled her with that thick cock of his, making her breath rush and her back arch. She pictured Thorpe hovering over her, too, watching, tipping her head over the edge of the bed to feed his erection between her lips and deep in her mouth, muttering in the filthiest, most intimate whisper how much he was looking forward to impaling her backside.

“I don’t see any bruises on you.” Sean’s voice pulled her from her sensual daydream.

Callie eased up a fraction and looked at Sean from between her legs. “There are none, Sir. Thorpe didn’t force me.”

A fact that made her feel even more guilty, but she didn’t try to hide from the truth.

“Sit up and look at me.” He stayed silent until she did as he’d bid. “Leave the robe off. I like you naked.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He sent her a reassuring nod, telling her that she’d pleased him. “Callie, he may not have forced you, but you were upset, and he took advantage of you.”

“Not really.” She bit her lip. “Sean, I have to be honest. I have feelings for him, too. I don’t think it’s one-sided.”

Damn, why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? Or break up with him and be done?

Sean’s face closed up. “He had four years to give you what you needed. And he did nothing. He’s not the man for you. I am. Don’t let your gratitude lead your heart in the wrong direction.”

It wasn’t like that at all. Yes, she was grateful to Thorpe for many things, but she would have fallen for him regardless. Some invisible string tethered her to him, tugging her in his direction . . . even as another string seemed to bind and yank her toward Sean, too.

It was best that she was leaving. She could never choose between them. And if she tried, she would inevitably lose the other for good.

“I understand what you’re saying,” she answered obliquely. After tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter.

“Good. I’m going to do my best to reason with Thorpe so I can see you. We have a lot to talk about, lovely.”

He was dead wrong. It was all but over, even if that fact was breaking her heart in a million pieces. If she told him that now, it would only start an argument that neither of them would win. Next time she saw him would simply be good-bye.

“I’ll see what I can do on my end, too.”

“Excellent,” he praised. “Now charge your phone.”

“I already am.” She smiled. Sometimes he knew her too well.

Sean sent her an approving nod, his blue eyes caressing her face through the screen. “Eat your pizza and get some sleep. I plan to come for you tomorrow.”

And by then, she’d be ready to release him and go. “I will.”

* * *

THORPE was slumped over his desk at quarter ’til three when his phone rang. The club members were gone. Axel had swept the place clean. No sign of Kirkpatrick, but Thorpe knew better than to assume he’d seen the last of the asshole. Callie had helped with cleaning and closing, then taken herself off to bed. She was too quiet and hadn’t met his gaze when he’d given her back the contents of her suitcases, sans bags.

He planned to keep a very close watch on her. Lack of luggage alone wouldn’t be enough to keep her here if she was determined to go.

At the first shrill chime, Thorpe started, then all but pounced on the phone. He looked at the display, smiling at the familiar number.

“Tara?”

“Yes.”

“That was fast.” The smart girl had always impressed him, but even more so tonight. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve got some information for you. It’s only preliminary, but . . . I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

Thorpe’s gut tightened. He’d wanted to be wrong. Son of a bitch. “I didn’t expect to. Tell me.”

“Sean Kirkpatrick’s story survives a cursory glance, like you said. But once I started digging, it seems that he doesn’t appear anywhere, at least under that name, until eight months ago. I also can’t find a record of anyone with that name and face becoming a U.S. citizen in the last decade. The first appearance of him I have is the supposed creation of an LLC in the state of Florida earlier this year.”

“He told Callie that he lives there now. He claims to belong to a club outside of Miami. His references checked out, but . . .”

“It’s possible he paid someone for that.”

“Exactly,” Thorpe agreed.

“Almost immediately after he started the company, a major Fortune 100 corporation supposedly hired his services. Do you know how tough a gig that is to get?”

“Exceedingly. You usually have to know someone.”

“Or be sucking their di— um, be intimate with them.”

Thorpe managed a smile at her slipup, despite the grim situation.

Tara smoothed over the moment by continuing on. “He rented a corporate apartment in Dallas under the name of his LLC back in April.” She rattled off the address, and he jotted it down. A newer part of town with lots of corporate presence and no nightlife. “He signed a six-month lease. When October rolled around, he started extending it month by month. Other than that, Sean Kirkpatrick has one relatively new credit card, no bank account, no immigration visa, no mortgage, no car loan, no record of marriages or divorces, no court dates, no arrest record, no school records . . . nothing. He’s a ghost.”

Sitting back in his chair, Thorpe sucked in a breath. “The way he set up his identity, do you think he’s a con artist?”

“What does Callie have that he’d want to steal?”

“Absolutely nothing.” On the surface. But over the last decade, the bounty on Callie’s head had grown to two million dollars. What if Sean Kirkpatrick had somehow pieced together her identity and managed to trail her here?

Thorpe’s blood ran cold. He swore that he’d take care of Kirkpatrick once and for all.

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Tara sighed. “Seven months seems awfully patient for a stalker, but at this point, I’m not sure if I’d rule that out. I honestly don’t know what else to think.”

“I’ve got some ideas. If you come across anything else, let me know, would you?”

“Of course. Something is definitely off with this man.”

As Thorpe had suspected for some time. “I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“My pleasure. You know Callie isn’t ever going to be my best friend . . . but I’m worried for her.”

He gripped the phone tightly. “Me, too.”

They rang off, and Thorpe didn’t waste a minute. He left his office and crept down the hall to Callie’s room, letting himself in with the key. He spied her sleeping in the moonlight, all curled up in a sea of downy quilts and soft pillows. One naked leg peeked out, from her supple hip to her little pink toes. No way he could forget having his face between her sleek thighs, but somehow he had to.

Thorpe turned and found a partially eaten pizza sitting in a box on her dresser. When the hell had she ordered that? No idea, but nothing else looked out of place. Her phone sat charging on the nightstand, and he swiped it, then dashed back into his office.

It didn’t take him long to figure out that her password was his birthday. And didn’t that just add a kicker of guilt to this torment cocktail? He browsed her recent calls and found one she’d missed from Sean earlier tonight. Gotcha!

He touched the screen, and the image changed to Sean’s annoying mug as the call connected.

“Callie?” the man didn’t sound groggy or disoriented in the least.

“Not quite. Guess again.”

“What the fuck do you want, Thorpe? I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with your antics. You can’t separate me from Callie. You’ve no right, and you know it.”

Oh, he had every right, and he intended to exercise each of them to the fullest extent. He might not be her father, her husband, or her Dom, but he was her protector. And probably the only person in her life she could trust without question.

But Sean’s grating lecture gave him an idea. “I’ve been doing some thinking. I know that I’ve overstepped my bounds as the owner of the club. So I’m going to allow you to see her tomorrow. Here at Dominion. Nine p.m. You’re not going to get another offer. I suggest you take it.”

“I’ll be there. And don’t you be trying any trickery. You won’t like what happens.”

“Is that a threat?” Thorpe all but licked his lips, hoping the Scot would give him something he could sink his teeth into.

“No. But if you’re less than straight and narrow, I don’t think Callie will be too happy with you. And you can’t stand the thought that she might not look to you for all her needs, can you?”

Thorpe squeezed the phone tightly. Fucker. “Be here at nine.”

Without allowing Sean to respond, he ended the call. That Scot got under his skin, and he had to resist the urge to throw Callie’s phone across the room. Instead, he forced out a deep breath, then stood, walking with deliberate steps back to her room and put the phone where he’d found it.

He shouldn’t look at the girl, but she’d rolled over in her sleep and now lay on her back, her ridiculously long lashes caressing her cheeks, her head angled slightly to expose the graceful line of her throat. Pale shoulders moved softly with each breath. The quilt barely covered her breasts, and the hint of cleavage was enough to make him sweat.

Damn it, he had to get out of here. He had to stop obsessing. Keep her safe. Give her a place to live her life in peace. That was the most he could ever offer her.

The moment he closed her door behind him again and locked it once more, he charged down the hall to see if Axel had left yet. A quick turn of the knob to the security room, and Thorpe slid inside. Axel wore a baseball cap. The man was a large, blunt instrument of violence when he chose. Currently, his eyes were glued to a security feed. His fists were clenched.

“What is it?”

“Callie got a pizza tonight.”

“I saw the box in her room.”

“She didn’t pay for it.”

Thorpe frowned. “And Callie doesn’t have any credit cards to have paid for it in advance.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s Kirkpatrick.” Thorpe cursed. God, would this fucker just not go away?

“Can’t imagine who else it would be.”

“I’ve got a plan. How do you feel about searching his apartment at, say, nine tomorrow night?”

“For what?”

“Anything. Everything. He’s up to no good where Callie is concerned. I want to know what.”

Axel’s massive shoulders slumped. “You’re not going to let me trash his pad, are you?”

“Not yet, but depending on what you find, you and I together may be trashing his face.”

“Now you’re talking.” Axel smiled wide.

“Is that a yes, then?”

Axel’s expression brightened again. “I can’t wait.”

Thorpe felt the same. One way or another, by tomorrow night, he’d have figured out exactly who Sean Kirkpatrick was and how to permanently erase him from Callie’s life. He didn’t care much how he had to do it.

Загрузка...