"Think about it." He turned and glided down the steps. A man entirely too comfortable with his body.
Her eyes couldn't leave his confident stride as he made his way to his luxury car. For a man she thought didn't stir her body, she was sure as hell wet between the thighs.
18
Across the street from Mac's apartment, Derk watched her climb out of the new Lexus and be escorted up to her apartment. If that douche bag disappeared into her place, he was gonna lose his shit.
Nope. Instead he got to watch the man devour M's mouth and pin her against the building.
So this is where M was at, huh? She decided he wasn't good enough for her. She needed Mr. Rich Boy Toy to take care of her, as if he wasn't capable?
Fuck that shit. He didn't need this. Didn't need her. He'd never stalked a woman before, and the fact that he stood outside in the black shadows, watching her like some perv showed how off his game he was.
Fuck it.
Let Mackenzie have her rich man, who'd give her their two point five kids, SUV, picket fence, and dog. Then after a couple years, he would fucking take on a mistress and Mac could pretend all is right with the world. Fuck her. And her little dog too.
Derk stalked down the street to his truck. Time to move the hell on.
***
Derk stood in the backyard of the Murphy home, beer in hand, fuckin' tired and miserable. The day had been shit. Not that funerals were a blast to attend, but it had rained the entire morning. And not that light, annoying rain. Nope, it had poured. Every single person, including Mrs. M, who had an umbrella held diligently over her head the entire time, ended up soaked to the bone. Naturally, it stopped raining as soon as the service was over and everyone was snug in their cars headed to the wake.
Only certain individuals had been invited back to the Murphy home after the restaurant gathering. He happened to be one of the few. Running on fumes from only a couple hours of restlessness after seeing Mackenzie lip-lock with another man, he'd been forced out of obligation to make an appearance.
At the moment, Derk eyed Courtney's cousin Sean and his wife avoid speaking with Mrs. M by conveniently making their way to the back deck and setting up shop. Her other cousin, Ryan, didn't seem to be harboring any ill will toward her and was hovering like a mother hen underneath the porch.
Mrs. M wasn't taking the shocking passing of her father well. Derrick Murphy refused to leave her side, afraid his wife was on the verge of passing out. Her pale features were hallowed, and her normally bright blue eyes were dull and lifeless.
Pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, Derk lit up, his mind going back to last night. It was probably best Mac put an abrupt end to their relationship. If that’s what you wanted to call it. They hadn't been a couple, and he wasn't the least bit interested in that type of commitment. But man, talk about a hit on an ego. His plan had been to hang around and make the most of their sexual compatibility until they got sick of banging each other.
So much for that.
But why the fuck did it burn?
So he invested more time with her than any woman he'd ever been with. Big deal. It shouldn't affect him in the least. He rubbed the heel of his hand at the center of his chest. Why the hell did he feel like he lost something?
Derk blew out a puff of smoke and watched Sean hand his wife a plate of dessert and a cup of coffee. Courtney's cousin placed a protective hand on his wife's back as he sunk down in the chair beside her. Beth looked up to her husband and smiled lovingly. Sean kissed her gently and brushed her coal black hair off her slim shoulder. It amazed Derk that the same woman who'd carried twin girls managed to gain back her original figure. Good genes, he mused. He watched Sean pick the fork off the plate, dig it into a piece of cake, and feed it to his wife. Derk rolled his eyes when the man then leaned down and licked a spot of chocolate off her lip. Beth turned bright red and glanced around nervously, which caused Sean to chuckle.
Unable to watch the lovey-dovey crap any longer, Derk pushed off the tree and walked around to the front of the house. He found Smith in deep conversation with Mr. Murphy's two closest henchmen. Not in the mood to deal with whatever topic they were engrossed in, he walked past them to the street and decided to take a stroll, ignoring their calls out to him.
While he meandered down the wealthy suburban neighborhood, he wondered if Mackenzie woke up this morning in that guy's bed. Did the man return to her later or did she go to his place? Who was the asshole? Some business man who wandered into the bar and happened to take an interest in her? One of her roommate’s family members? Whoever he was had money, hence the expensive ride.
Money didn't matter to Derk, he had plenty. Unlike most rich people who hid how they made their dirty income, he didn't. There was no reason to. It was no secret what he did for a living and who he worked for. How many hours had he logged in at the police department interrogation room? He just happened to be damn good at his job never to pull jail time. Well, that along with his ties to Murphy, whose connections ran among law enforcement, judges, and politicians. Rich men like that man who kissed Mac last night kept how they made their real income hidden in their closets. He’d bet anything that man’s closed door held a cemetery amount of skeletons.