Dead Drop (The Guild #2)(10)
I gave her a more genuine smile, and Jude scoffed.
“Danny never needs help, Sabby, you know that. Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?” She gave me a hard look, then shifted her gaze to Sabine. “Either one of you. I hate that I can’t help you if you need it.”
“Awww, Judy baby!” Sab exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug. “You keep us both sane! You help us with every text and every call.”
“Sabby’s right,” I agreed. “You’re our glue, Jude. Don’t ever underestimate how important you are in this trio. Without you…” I trailed off with a shrug.
Sabine snickered. “Without you, I’d actually believe I was a stripper, and Danny would be a crazy plant lady who can’t separate reality from plant-land in her head.”
“Dick,” I muttered, offering Sabine my middle finger, and she blew a kiss back at me.
Jude gave a resigned sigh. “I guess.”
Our sporadic catch-ups always ended like that, with either Sabby or I cagey and secretive about some contract or looming danger. But that was just our lives, and we were used to it, so we didn’t find it strange or suspicious. We just parted ways with tight hugs and promises to be in touch soon.
Sabine headed back to Shadow Grove on Carlos’s jet, and I flew home to Iceland by helicopter. I didn’t look at my phone again until I landed on my remote block of land on the rocky cliffs. Only then did I pull my phone out and look at Leon’s messages properly.
It all started with my drunken text.
3982: You disappoint me, Marx.
His reply had taken almost half an hour, within which time I must have dropped my phone between the couch cushions and totally forgotten about sending the message.
My insides twisted up in knots as I reread his reply.
6279: You’re drunk, DeLuna. That disappoints me.
I swallowed hard. If I’d seen that message last night, it would have been clear. Leon was watching me. Probably had been all week, the creep.
When I hadn’t responded, he’d sent more messages. Probably because he knew I would wake up with a pounding headache and read them all in the sober light of day.
6279: You said I would never see you again, but you were so wrong.
6279: I see you far more often than I should, but I can’t help myself. I’m addicted to the sight of you.
6279: Especially this one… this is my favorite.
That message was followed with a photo of me, stark naked and deeply asleep in Leon’s bed. The sheets were crumpled around me, not covering even an inch of skin. My legs were parted enough that the slick sheen of his cum was unmistakable on my pussy and coating my inner thigh.
It shouldn’t turn me on, knowing he’d taken photos of me like that… It shouldn’t, but it did.
He sent several more pictures after that, all from the same night when I slept so soundly in his lair, each with dirty little notes about why he loved each image. His musings on the soft pink of my tender flesh, of the way my nipples were still hard in my sleep, and how he’d battled not to fuck me right then while I was unconscious.
The whole thing was all made worse by the knowledge of what happened next. How he’d then decided to kill me, and I’d woken up to find his knife at my throat.
Knowing he’d taken these to look at later, to remember me when I was dead and gone, to revisit the next time he needed to jerk off… It was a little flattering. Even if it was completely unhinged.
I sat in the dormant helicopter and flicked through the images again, reading his commentary and growing more turned on by the second. Eventually, I caved and slipped a hand inside my jeans.
It was shockingly easy to make myself come, closing my eyes and imagining it was Leon’s fingers delving into my soaked cunt. I could practically hear his low, calm voice in my ear as I worked myself over, I could almost feel his heavy breath against my skin, and when I came, I could imagine his heavy, intense stare. The way he watched me was beyond intoxicating.
“Shit,” I exhaled when my shudders subsided, and I wiped my fingers off on my jeans. “Dammit, Leon.”
I checked the thread again and read his last message, sent just an hour before dawn. It held a serious warning about the danger still hanging over my head, and the fact that other executioners might not respect my friends’ safety.
I’d left Jude’s place because Leon had reminded me that this wasn’t just a game between the two of us. As entertaining as the cat and mouse shit was, there were higher stakes. The Circle still wanted me dead, and I was an idiot to think Leon was the only one they might ask to kill me.
Wetting my lips, I climbed out of the helicopter and headed across the grass to my cabin. It felt like a lifetime since I’d been home, and I wanted nothing more than to kick back in my chair and chat to Stanley about everything that had gone down since I left.
The door unlocked with my fingerprints, and the alarm code took only seconds to key in. Once the door closed behind me, I gave a long sigh of relief.
I was home.
“Stanley, I’m back!” I called out, flipping the lights on and tossing my small bag of newly purchased clothes on the floor. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long; you must have been so lonely here without me.”
I went straight to the kitchen and filled up my big jug with water for Stanley. Poor dude would be bone dry by now.
“You’d never believe the shit I’ve gone through in the last two months, Stan. Honestly, I don’t think I would even believe me if I hadn’t lived it. Did I ever tell you about Ares? The arms dealer?” I paused as though I actually expected a response while I carried the water jug through to the living room.