Page 35 of Twisted Little Games

Taking slow, deep breaths, there’s nothing I can do but wait for the pain to pass. Still, I wonder where that last demand came from? Natalie warned me Kirsten confronted her about setting her up and was furious, but she didn’t fire her. So why would she care if I text Natalie or not? Not that I plan to for anything other than details about Kirsten. The receptionist was nothing but a means to an end, and she stopped responding to my messages.

A few minutes later, I’m still recovering on the floor when some tall guy so thin he could hide behind a pine tree, hovers over me. “Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?”

“No. Well, I don’t think so.”

“Was that the district attorney?” he asks, making me swear.

“You’re going to delete any security footage of her and forget she was here. If not, I’m going to string you up by your balls and slit your throat.”

The kid stands there, as if confused by my threat.

“I’m Tristan Ferraro, Creed Ferraro’s cousin and enforcer. Do you know who that is?”

His face goes a little pale. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” he mutters before he backs away.

Hopefully, my threat will be enough to keep him quiet about what happened in here. It was my fault I lured Kirsten in here and pissed her off enough to risk someone witnessing her assault. If she were to lose a vote for that shit in a future election, I’d hate myself because she would never forgive me.

And for some reason, I care about her opinion of me more than I should.

16

Kirsten

Ican’t believe Tristan is still following me after I told him to stop!

Well, hopefully the hit to his nuts will be enough to keep him away from now on.

Why was he still watching me, though? It doesn’t make any sense. He got what he wanted and more.

Pacing in front of my living room windows, I can’t help but wonder if he’s out there watching me right this second.

Does he just want to torment me even more than he already has?

Unless…is he planning to keep using the footage of us to get more blowjobs? Is this going to be the rest of my life, wondering if he’s watching me or when he’s going to show up at my door demanding I…service him?

No. I refuse to bow to that asshole ever again. If he tries to pull that shit on me, then I’ll just suck up my pride, let the world see all of me, and send his ass to prison for the rest of his life.

A sudden knock on my apartment door interrupts my internal ranting, making me freeze. Did he seriously show up just hours after I told him to leave me alone?

No. He wouldn’t be that stupid, right?

Tiptoeing barefoot to the door, I look out the peephole and release a sigh of relief when I see an older man in a suit on the other side. With his hands resting on his hips, his jacket is pulled back enough that the badge and gun in his shoulder holster are both visible. Still, why is a cop, a detective by the looks of him, showing up at my apartment this late?

“Can I help you?” I call through the door, refusing to unlock it just yet. Maybe it was my unexpected bed companion, but I’m feeling a little more cautious lately. Since I’m almost certain Tristan Ferraro was lying about not knowing the attacker in the alley, I shouldn’t be so paranoid. The Ferraros have no reason to send someone to try and kill me now.

“Sorry to bother you so late, ma’am. But I have something urgent to discuss with you about a homicide case I’m working on,” the officer replies.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow morning?” I ask.

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid not.”

I’m still fully dressed in my suit with no shoes, and I assume he must need my help getting a warrant for a potential suspect, so I unlock and open the door for him.

“Okay, but please make it quick,” I tell him, my voice stern. I don’t appreciate him showing up at my apartment without calling first. There’s no excuse for that oversight no matter how urgent the matter may be. He could’ve called on the way over here.

“Mind if I have a seat? It’s been a long one.”

“Fine.” I sigh, gesturing with a wave of my arm toward the living room. I shut the door behind him. “Would you likesomething to drink?” Even though I’m annoyed, my mother would be appalled if I didn’t try to be hospitable to a guest.

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