Page 50 of His to Possess
I hung up, my mind reeling. Rex's voice cut through my thoughts.
"What's going on?"
I hesitated, not sure how much to tell him. His eyes narrowed at my silence.
"Laurel, what was that call about?"
I could see the annoyance building in his expression, and I knew I couldn't keep this from him.
"It was my landlord," I finally admitted. "I… I have to go check on my apartment. Someone was there, making a scene, pounding on my door, and demanding to see me. They damaged the door, and I need to see if anything inside was affected."
Rex's jaw clenched. He turned back to the stove, plating the omelet without a word. But I wasn't fooled by his silence. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his movements had become sharp and precise.
"When are you planning to go there?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.
"I… I don't know. Soon, I guess. I need to make sure everything's okay."
Rex set the plate in front of me with more force than necessary. "Eat first. Then we'll go."
"We?" I repeated, surprised.
His eyes met mine, cold and unyielding. "You didn't think I'd let you go alone, did you?"
I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped me. I knew there was no point in fighting him on this.
"Fine," I conceded, picking up my fork. "We'll go after I eat."
As I took a bite of the omelet, my mind raced. Who could have been at my apartment? And why did I have a sinking feeling that I already knew the answer?
Chapter 18
Rex
I parked my car on the curb and scanned the neighborhood surrounding Laurel's apartment. The streets, lined with weathered buildings and faded storefronts, stirred up memories I had long buried. Voices from the past echoed in my mind—harsh words, slamming doors, the constant hum of anxiety that had been the background music of my life.
Laurel exited the car, her elbow finding my ribs. "Stop snarling at my circumstances," she snapped.
Her accusation caught me off guard. I turned to face her, my jaw clenching. "I'm not judging. You think I was born in that penthouse of mine?" She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly taken aback. "This reminds me of more difficult times," I continued, my voice low. "Where I worked my ass off. But that doesn't mean all those memories are bad."
Her eyes widened, and I saw her reassess me. Good. I didn't need her pity, but I wouldn't have her thinking I was some privileged asshole who had never known struggle. The pathbehind me was difficult to cross, but it made me appreciate what I had now that much more.
"I… I didn't realize," she stammered.
"Of course, you didn't," I replied, my tone sharp. "You see what I want you to see, Laurel. What everyone sees."
She took a step closer, her voice softening. "And what's that?"
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "The successful businessman. The collector. The man who has everything under control."
"And the reality?" she pressed.
I met her gaze, wrestling with how much to reveal. "The reality is that control is hard won. And easily lost if I'm not careful." I had learned that the hard way, which was why I ensured I held it all in my hands and commanded everything. One simple mistake could make it all disappear, and I refused to allow that to happen.
She was silent for a moment, processing. "Is that why you're so obsessed with controlling everything? Everyone?"
Her question hit too close to home. My walls slammed back into place. "We're not here to psychoanalyze me," I snapped. "Let's check on your apartment."
As we walked towards her building, I couldn't shake the memories this place evoked. The constant fear of eviction notices, of not having enough to eat. The determination to never feel that powerless again.
