Page 43 of Property of Chux

She tilts her head back, letting the water drench her hair, and I take the opportunity to run my hands down her body, rubbingslow circles over her shoulders and lower back. She melts into me, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“This is nice,” she murmurs.

I grab the soap, lathering it between my hands before running them over her skin, taking my time. I start with her arms, then her stomach, then down her hips, memorizing every dip and curve. Her breathing hitches when I slide my hands between her thighs, but I force myself to be patient. She needs this moment to relax.

I turn her around, pulling her back against my chest, and press my lips to the side of her neck as I work the shampoo through her hair. She lets out a contented hum, closing her eyes.

“You always take care of people like this?” she asks.

I rinse the suds from her hair, letting the water wash away the soap before answering. “No.”

She tilts her head to look at me. “So just me, then?”

I meet her gaze, my fingers tracing the curve of her hip. “Yeah. Just you.”

She swallows hard, looking like she wants to say something, but instead, she turns back around, leaning into me. I let the silence settle between us as I finish washing her, enjoying the way she lets me care for her, the way she trusts me to.

Once we're both rinsed off, I shut off the water and grab a towel, wrapping it around her before pulling one around my own waist. She watches me as I dry off, her expression unreadable.

“What is it?” I ask.

She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Nothing. Just... thank you for stepping in and keeping me safe, Damian.”

I nod, reaching for another towel and running it over her damp hair. “Riot’s gonna bring Kelly over in a bit.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I see the gratitude there before she even speaks. “You knew I needed her. I feel like you’re a stranger, but one I’ve known a lifetime.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I feel that too. Like I was made for you.” I tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “I got you.”

She exhales, stepping closer, resting her forehead against my chest. “That means more than you know.”

I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Get dressed. Stay here. Riot won’t let anything happen to you.”

She looks up, her brows pinching. “Where are you going?”

I grab a pair of jeans, tugging them on. “Port. Need to check in a shipment.”

She frowns, like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods. “Be careful.”

I smirk. “Always.” I slip a shirt on.

I grab my cut, shrugging it on before heading out. By the time I make it downstairs, the club is already buzzing with movement. A few of the guys are nursing hangovers from last night, some still passed out on the couches, but I don’t stop. I push through the main room and head outside, where I quickly make my way to our port office.

The early morning air is cool against my still-damp skin. When I pull up, I immediately spot Stunt and Shaft waiting near the main office, their expressions tight.

Something’s off.

I approach them. “What’s going on?”

Shaft runs a hand through his hair, his jaw ticking. “One of the containers is missing.”

My stomach tightens. “Which one?”

“Carton number 091285368 according to the manifest.” Stunt glances toward the stacked containers, his expression grim. “The one bound for the West Virginia Kings.”

A slow, simmering rage builds in my chest. That shipment was promised.

“That’s not a mistake,” I say, my voice low, deadly. “Someone took it.”

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