“Chelcie? Are you there?”
I wait, wondering why the hell she’s calling me if all I’m going to hear are some weird scuffling noises. It sounds like she dialed me from her purse or something.
“Chelcie?” I try one more time.
Maddox turns from where he’s about to walk out of the room. His eyes are narrowed in a way that has every hair on my body tingling with dread.
“Chelcie, please,” I mutter. “Please, Sunshine.”
My stomach feels like it’s full of lead. I don’t move the phone from my ear as I start moving papers from my desk, looking for my keys.
I look up when Maddox lets out a quick whistle. He holds his own keys up and nods his head towards the door. He doesn’t have to fucking tell me twice. With the phone to my ear, I make my way behind Maddox.
I’m praying over and over that my gut is wrong and that she just accidently forgot to lock her phone, but I stop dead just steps away from the front door to Corps Security. When I hear her ear-piercing scream break through the static in the line, my blood runs cold and I sprint into action.
I reach Maddox’s Charger ahead of him, waiting impatiently as he hurries to the driver’s seat. He doesn’t ask questions—he just throws the car in gear and speeds out of the parking lot. I keep the phone pressed tight to my ear, praying to hear something else that will give me a clue as to what we’re about to walk into.
Fuck me. An image of Dominic Murphy flashes through my mind and a sob bubbles out when I think that, by not killing that bastard when I could have, I could lose everything.
We’ve only been on the road for a minute at the most when I hear another voice, this one making a cold sweat break out across my skin. I can’t make out her words, but I would know that fucking nasally whine anywhere.
Sarah. Fucking. Jane.
CHAPTER 32
Sarah Jane
It’s just a matter of time now. Only time. Time is all I have, and I don’t mind waiting just a little longer. I’ve let him have his fun.
Eight long years of fun.
I’ve been watching. I’m always watching.
He’s never had anyone like this woman. This pregnant woman. I know my Asher would never give another woman MY baby.
I’ve been planning it for years. Our baby will be so beautiful. Long, silky, blonde hair just like her daddy. The prettiest eyes that you’ve ever seen. So blue that they looked like the clearest summer day’s sky. And her lips would be full, just like her daddy, Asher.
Yes. It has to be a mistake, because MY Asher would never let MY baby grow in that whore’s body!
I watched her walk out just this morning, her laughter making me want to slice her throat right there in front of her tall friend and the old, fat doorman.
She’s a whore. A whore that has had her filthy hands on MY Asher.
My head feels tight again. The voices are back. They keep telling me what needs to happen next. I need to make her pay. She needs to understand that she will never take MY man and MY baby.
After grabbing my purse, I press the button for the lower garage, where all the tenants park their vehicles. I know which one belongs to that whore. I’ve run my fingers all over it just imagining what it would feel like if it were her skin. So fragile when using the right tools.
I pull the hammer out of my large bag, walking around the car a few times before deciding where to start. I slam my weapon against the headlights. Then the taillights. I use all my strength to smash it against every inch of the car’s metal. When I step back to admire my art, my chest moves fast as sweat coats my skin.
I can’t wait until I can do the same thing to that whore’s body.
Before I leave, I grab the can out of my bag, walk over to her car, and lean over carefully. I wouldn’t want to cut my body. Asher loves my body the way it looks, and I’ve worked hard to keep it slim, tight, and tan. Shaking the can a few times, I bring it closer to my destroyed carnage of that whore’s car, taking my time to make sure every letter is perfect.
I toss the can on the ground when I’m done. I don’t need it anymore. The only thing I need now is that whore and my hammer.
I press the button I need before reaching into my bag and grabbing my ‘candies,’ opening the bottle, and taking two for good measure. I need to remember to get more. I hate the way I feel when I’m not feeling my ‘candies.’
I make quick work of my next duty. I need to make sure that Asher has a clear path to finally come and take me in his arms. He’s going to be so happy to see me—I just know it. He’s been waiting so patiently for me to come and take him back.
It doesn’t take much for me to sneak up on the old coot that sits in his office all day, only coming out occasionally to say hi to the other idiots that walk in and out of his lobby.