Billion Dollar Vengeance

Chapter 16: The Only Thing You're Good At

I pace my bedroom with the phone held to my ear, listening to the repeating rings. "Come on! Just pick up! Please!"

"Hello, you've reached prosecutor Jameson Micheals. Please leave a-"

I hang up and toss the phone onto the bed with an angry grunt. I swear, if Bruce just ruined the first decent man I've met in years, it'll be him reminiscing about having 10 fingers. My body collapses onto the bed as I reach for my shoes, pulling them off before ripping my sweater over my head.

He still might be outside, which pisses me off. But it also dredges up a lot of feelings I've tried to leave behind. Out of habit, I turn on the monitor and check the bat house. Even though it's nighttime, the bitter chill has them huddled together for warmth inside the dark box.

But even doing that reminds me of what I just left behind. I can still feel his hand wrapped tight around my arm, and yanking my waist to fling me over his shoulder. "Asshole," I grumble.

With a frustrated groan, I fall back, laying on top of the covers and staring at the ceiling, hoping against hope that my phone rings. But what would I even say?! I suppose I need to remain as close to the truth as I can, and just hope a kind sensible man like Jameson likes me enough to accept my baggage.

I can still see his terrified face behind my closed eyes. And that feral look in Bruce's eyes when he grabbed my arm. The man was chasing down an escaping criminal, and still locked eyes with me, even as he was sprinting toward danger.

A shiver runs down my spine. I know what he is and what he does, but seeing him in action is... different. Even getting that glimpse of him taking on six guys the night he saved Jenna and me was something of a spectacle to watch.

There was certainly a time where hearing him threaten a guy for touching me would have turned me on. I would have reveled in the way he said, "she's mine." I would have bent myself over the dirty hood of his armored car and let him rip my hair out as he growled in my ear. "Mine."

My body grows hot as I think through the events of tonight. Being touched by him so aggressively. The powerful way he flung me over his shoulder. The fear he invoked into the cop just by being- "Vengeance," I sigh.

The powerful sense of anger toward him has always bled into the attraction for him, and certainly bled into the pleasure he gave me. It's been so hard to adjust back to my vibrator and porn after someone like Bruce and Ven. And that feral, possessive gaze of his boils my blood in both ways- pleasure and wrath.

But he doesn't fucking own me! He ruined any chance of us being together the night he followed me home from the shops.

Sleep provides no relief from my emotions. My dreams are violent and inescapable.

"Please pick up!" I pace my room. I gave Jameson most of the next day without bombarding his phone. And I promise myself that this is the last time I try to call him. The last thing I want to do is chase him away on my own.

"Hello?" His voice rings out with a hesitant air.

"Jameson! Please! Let me explain." My heart hammers in my chest.

I hear him take in a breath, but he doesn't respond. He doesn't hang up either! I launch into speech, words tumbling out my dry mouth as my stomach twists. "I never expected to cross paths with him ever again. And of course I wouldn't try to keep something like that secret, given the... bizarreness. But I mean, it was our second date, you know? And I was having so much fun, it wasn't even something on my mind at all. I am so sorry, Jameson. I put you in an impossible situation, I panicked, and I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry."