Chapter Nine
On the way to my apartment he explained mostly everything to me. Apparently, he was Braxton's older brother. He hadn't given me a name, and I didn't give up the information that I didn't know who he was, that Braxton hadn't even mentioned a brother to me let alone a name. I remember vaguely Melanie talking about Braxton's family, a brother and a sister, but that's about all she ever said. When he was explaining the situation to me, I sat in the passenger seat of the SUV and listened with wide eyes to the incognizable information. When he said there there was a chance that someone targeted Braxton and was responsible for his death, I blanched.
"Those men that killed my men, they have something to do with it." He said, his hands clenching the steering wheel, "And they have eyes on you. I need you safe, so I can deal with them without worrying about you too."
I was too transfixed on the fact that Braxton's death wasn't an accident to interpret what he meant by his men, or that I was being targeted as well. For the rest of the drive to my apartment, I was silent. My heart was beating a million miles an hour, and every time he looked into the rearview mirror I caught myself gazing into the side mirror too, just incase.
Pulling into an empty spot near my apartment entrance, I told him I would be just a minute.
"You're not fucking going in there alone."
I stood my ground, arms crossed and unmoving from the vehicle. "You can't come into my apartment building. If we ran into my neighbors, there's no way I can explain a bleeding stranger to them." I pointed a finger at him, "One who won't even tell me their name."
"I have a jacket I can put on, no one's going to see me. Also, I'm not bleeding anymore thanks to your fuck up job." He paused, gaged my reaction to which I was fuming and then smirked. Both sides of his full mouth slowly rose, giving me a smile that had my heart stutter stopping. I was on the verge of needing the paddles to restart it when he said, "The name's Vegas."
I let the name he gave me roll around in my head for a minute and I smiled at him, hoping it was convincing. "Well, Vegas, I'm perfectly capable of going inside and grabbing a few things. You stay here, hold down the fort. Keep watch. Whatever you do, just make sure it's legal." He snorted and I rolled my eyes, "Could you at least pretend it's legal? For my sanity's sake?" I grabbed my small purse and popped open the door, "I'll be right back. Promise."
I was surprised when he didn't argue and I had made it up the outside steps and to the landing where my front door sat without him even moving a muscle. I chalked it up to him being injured and probably exhausted as I turned the key into my door. Finley greeted me with a paw in the air and a hiss, to which I stuck out my tongue to him. Quickly and efficiently, I grabbed the suitcase I kept stored away in my hall closet and brought it into the bedroom. As I started to I blindly grabbed underwear, clothes and shoes, I began to question if I was really insane enough to put my full trust into a man I just met. Could I be in fake danger? Was this a ploy to get me into the system of sex trafficking? Everything in my gut told me that Vegas wasn't a man I should worry about, to trust him and his intentions. That was what had me grabbing with a few other essentials like toiletries and my laptop just incase my stay with Vegas was longer than I orginally was planning for. Halfway through packing and grabbing random shit, I heard a knock at the door. I stayed still, listening for Vegas' voice but heard nothing.
Finely was meowing in the living room when I slowly crept towards the door, ready to look ito the peep hole when the door started to shake. I jumped back, the back of my legs crashing into the coffee table behind me as I watched the door being abused from the outside. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket, going to call Vegas, before I realized I didn't even have his number.
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JE LEEST
Flower Girl
RomantiekI was buried up to my neck in stylish wedding magazines that were suffocating me. Ten stacks of invitation drafts I spent two hundred dollars on were sitting in the corner collecting dust, mocking me . Sample wedding fabric cards stitched with tinge...