Page 30 of Watch Me Burn
The office is too quiet without Maren. I glance over at my desk, where the stack of paperwork mocks me with its importance. I should get back to work. But my limbs refuse to cooperate. My body is heavy, drained by the day’s events and all the complications threading through what should be a simple life.
The thought of sitting at my desk feels like too much right now. I’ll deal with it all tomorrow when I’m clearer, when the image of black dahlias splattered with red isn’t burned into my retinas.
I close my eyes and try to push away the creeping anxiety that’s been building all afternoon. Those flowers were meant to frighten me, to send some kind of message I don’t understand. The deliberate destruction, the blood, the untraceable delivery—it feels personal.
I’m so tired of drama. I just want a normal day where the biggest crisis is Ricky and his boob obsession.
Is that too much to ask? One quiet, drama-free day where I can focus on the animals who depend on me without worrying about Karen and her investigation, or threatening ex-boyfriends, or whoever turned beautiful flowers into something horrific?
The sanctuary has always been my refuge, my way of making sense of a world that often seems senseless. But lately, it feels like chaos keeps finding me no matter what I do. And I’m not sure how much more I can take.
Chapter eight
Luna
The deep rumble of Damien’s voice floats up from downstairs as I fasten my second earring, a final touch to an outfit I’ve spent far too long selecting.
My heart does that ridiculous flutter it always does when he’s near. I smooth down the fabric of my dress, checking my reflection one last time. The woman staring back looks elegant and polished, a far cry from my usual self, covered in animal fur and bodily fluids I can’t always identify.
Maren’s laughter drifts up the stairs, followed by Damien’s lower, controlled responses. I can’t make out their words, but the familiarity in Maren’s tone makes me smile. She never treats anyone with undue reverence, not even billionaires, but she sure is under his spell. Not that I can blame her.
I hope she’ll be alright alone here tonight. We’re both still on edge about the flower delivery two days ago. I’ve heard nothing from Karen about the investigation. I didn’t mention it to my wolf, but I wonder if I should have. He’s so adept at stalking; perhaps he could have found whoever it was. But I worry about what he might do to the person if he found them, especially Caleb. I have no desire to see my ex ever again, but if he’s the one who did this, I don’t want him to die for it. And I worry about Maren being here alone until we know something more.
I step into my heels and make my way downstairs, gripping the railing as I descend. The conversation below stops as I come into view. Damien stands in my living room, magnificent in a tailored tuxedo, underneath a gray wool coat that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean waist. His dark eyes find me, and the weight of his stare sends a shiver racing down my spine.
“Thanks for taking care of the critters tonight,” I say to Maren when I reach the bottom of the stairs, trying to sound casual despite the way my pulse races under Damien’s scrutiny. His gaze follows me as I walk toward him, and the intensity of his stare is a heavy heat that makes it hard to breathe.
Maren whistles. “Damn, girl. I was right. You clean up good.”
“Are you sure you’re okay being alone?”
She waves me off. “Bitch, please, I’m fine. I’m just glad I don’t have to drive home in this snow. Are you sure you’ll make it down to Denver?”
“Yes, we’re taking my helicopter.”
The casual way he mentions it reminds me of the vast difference between our worlds. I run a wildlife sanctuary on a shoestring budget while he casually owns aircraft.
Maren lets out a laugh. “Of course, you have a helicopter. Let me guess, you’ve got a plane sitting around too.”
His eyes never leave my face.
“Two.”
His stare has weight to it, pressing against my skin until I want to squirm, look away, fidget, or do something to break the connection, but I force myself to stay still. He looks at me like he’s memorizing every detail, like he can see past my dress to what lies beneath.
“Where do you keep it?” I ask to cut through whatever this is between us.
“I have a heliport on my property. It’s around the side of the house, so you didn’t see it the day you were there.”
“You came here to pick me up just to drive straight back to your house?” Disbelief colors my voice. “I could’ve driven over there.”
“Not in this weather. The roads are too slick.”
“I do have a truck with four-wheel drive. And I’ve driven in Colorado weather my whole life.”
“Not anymore. Not as long as I’m around.”
I want to bristle at his presumption, but his commanding response makes my body react. Heat floods my core, and my nipples tighten against the fabric of mydress. The tone of authority in his voice is similar to my wolf’s, and my traitorous body responds in predictable fashion.
