Page 44 of Chad's Chase
Unless he’d said that to mess with my goddamn head.
Gathering my wits, I snapped out of it. Because it didn’t matter. Whatever any of this meant didn’t matter. This thing between us could go absolutely nowhere. I was here to kill him, not…feel, fuck or talk.
Even though all three of those rules had long since been broken.
Chad was gone from the tree arcade by the time I resumed my jaunt. With renewed purpose, I hurried out of the gardens and back into the apartment building.
The elevator doors were swishing to a close, and had I not been acutely perceptive, I would’ve missed the ridiculously hot, tall man standing inside. He was positioned sideward, leaning back against the side wall, hands stuffed in his front pockets, head down, so one wouldn’t really notice him if looking straight ahead in the elevator; they would think it was empty.
But I noticed him, and I had no doubt he’d dodged the cameras coming in. Skillful sonuvabitch was hiding in plain sight.
Breaking into a jog, I hurried across the lobby and stuck my foot in between the doors to stop them from closing, then stepped inside.
Chad glanced up at the sound of my jostling. He said nothing, but kept his eyes on me.
Stuffing my hands in my sweats pockets, I mirrored him and leaned back on the opposite wall of the elevator. And just as he was sagely doing with me, I kept my eyes on his. No words.
The elevator doors closed and jolted into an ascent.
The smart, trained, wary me would’ve known better than to seal myself into a metal box with Chadrick Niiveux. But I guess I did it to prove something: that Chad made me feel safe.
This was the most peculiar of things, but…somehow, I was just convinced he’d never hurt me. Growing up, no one had ever made me feel as safe as Chad did. Ever.
He’d made me feel protected from the world as a whole. Maybe it was because he was older andwasn’tmy brother. Maybe it was because once when I’d gone home with a black and blue pinch on my arm—inflicted by pig-nose Raul Ivan because I’d refused to go to the back of the gym with him to show him my vagina—and Chad had gotten so angry, he lay-waited Raul outside my school the next day and beat the shit out of him. Maybe it was because he used to assure me that if anyone at all messed with me, he would kill them. Painfully.
Which was why when I saw him enter our house that night, I’d thought for sure he was coming to save us—saveme.
Silly of me to still believe in him even after he murdered my family, huh?
But with all that, the comfortable cloak of safety didn’t dissipate.
Whenever that man was around, I felt invincible, I forgot everything. My task, my reason, and all I thought about was kissing his face off.
Not even when he was choking me back in the garden was I afraid. Something was there between us. I just didn’t know what it was yet.
Nonetheless, with the plans I had in mind at the moment, I would never get to know.
I needed my freedom more than I needed…Chad.
On the fifth floor, the doors pinged open and Chad stepped out of the elevator in that quiet, panther-like grace of his. Then, like smoke, he was gone.
I hit my floor number and the doors shut me in.
Who the hell did he know in this building? And what was he empty-handedly delivering at this ungodly hour of the night?
Three more floors up, the doors pinged open and spat me out. Retrieving my keys, I hurried into my room and immediately began stripping while hopping it to the bathroom.
After having the fastest shower in the history of showers, I grabbed a towel and made a beeline to the walk-in closet. Once toweled dry, I threw on some black, pencil jeans, a tight, black, sleeveless T-shirt, black biker jacket, and black combat boots.
With one drag, I pulled out my hair tie, brushed my long black mane, and redid my ponytail, tighter and lower.
Locating the security safe in the back of my closet, I punched in the code, retrieved my Colt .25, and fixed it in the built-in ankle holster in my combat boots. Then I got my throw knives holder belt and looped it around my waist. It resembled a normal belt, except it had hidden slots on the inner side housing throw knives. Grabbing my to-go messenger bag with all the necessary weapons, I slung it across my shoulders, turned off all the lights in the house, went over to my living room window, and waited.
From this window, I had a view from the entry gate to the guests’ parking area. Fifteen minutes crept by before I finally saw him, walking leisurely to his black R8. The tail lights flashed as if he hit the unlock button on his car key. When he got to the driver’s side and opened the door, his head turned as slowly as the revolving earth, then tilted as he looked right up at the exact window I was at.
I almost jumped back, but belatedly remembered all my lights were off. Of course, he could see absolutely nothing.
Sonuvabitch liar. He knew precisely which apartment was mine, which meant he’d known all along I lived at The Chess.
