Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
It’s enough to lull me to sleep. Not enough to ensure I actually get a good night’s sleep.
I wake in the morning feeling stiff, sore, and all around grumpy as fuck. There is no alarm to set, no early morning meeting, so I don’t bother getting out of bed. Why should I when I’ve built my world up to this moment? The very moment I realize I’m sitting on my throne all by myself. I’ll never be able to trust anyone to sit beside me there. I’ll never be able to trust anyone with the burdens of power I usually wish away.
When sunlight peaks through the curtains, I get up and head for my closet. There are only a few gaps in my wardrobe, specifically things I packed to take with when Michail carted me off. I’ll have to get the pieces cleaned and added back into my rotation where they belong.
The simple act of organizing what’s been out of place, of reclaiming my home, is enough to calm the chatter in my head. At least for a little while.
It’s not until I’m sitting alone at my countertop, the house quiet and empty around me, that a slight tremor rolls through me. It threatens to break me open like a hollow chocolate bunny in a toddler’s grasp.
Even if this is my decision, I have to live with the consequences. Not touching Michail again is one big fucking consequence I haven’t resigned myself to yet. And if we do cross paths again, I should fear his retribution. His revenge. No doubt he’s added me to his list after my performance last night.
His words from last night echo in my head. Put on the mask if it makes things go away for a while.
It’s a simple thing, something I can do to soothe the raw edges of my nerves. Of the gaping hole where my heart is.
Somehow, in all the fear, pain, and anger… I fell in love with Michail. I’ll never breathe a word of it, since it would put us both in danger, but I’m a little stunned at the revelation. I’ve never been in love…not like this. Being in lust is an entirely different creature, something I’ve had lots of practice with.
I shove down my breakfast and head to my office to find my phone. When I sit behind my desk, I sigh softly. It feels like it’s been forever since I sat here and did actual work. Took care of the society I swore myself to uphold. Not that there is much to uphold amongst criminals. But that’s the point…someone has to keep the masses from going too far. From tipping attention in our favor.
I’m good at my job, and it’s time to remind everyone why.
I find the contact I need and hit the dial button. She’s the same woman I called the other day and only reached the voicemail. Every contact goes the same way. No one answers, and I’m sent to generic voice mails all around.
On the last one, I squeeze the phone a little too tight and respond. “Spread the word. I’ve returned to Chicago, and nothing is driving me away this time. If you’re one of my allies, then you better prepare yourself. If you’re one of my enemies, I offer the same advice.”
When I finish my calls, I check my email. There’s nothing since the initial attack. How could no one need me all this time?
I scroll through the email to reach the trash folder and uncover email after email. All responded to, but definitely not by me. This is my official email address, not personal, so whomever has deigned to assume my seat on the council has used it. Where did they get the password?
I spend hours combing the emails for even a hint of who has overthrown me. Nothing pops out. When I stand, the light in the room is waning, and I shuffle toward the kitchen to eat so I can go up to bed.
My gun is sitting on the counter when I enter, making me freeze, my hand still on the light switch.
I don’t see him so much as feel him. He shifts from the couch in the living room, his eyes on me, even though I can’t meet them through the darkness in that room. “What are you doing here?’
His tone is clipped and clawed and curtained. There’s absolutely no give. “My job.”
Two words which stab into my gut, threatening to send me to my knees. I manage a throaty, “Oh.”
Suddenly, I’m not so hungry. I snatch the gun from the counter, check the rounds, flip the light off again, and make my way back to my bedroom. If I were smart, I’d escape the scent of him by sleeping in one of the guest rooms, but something in me can’t resist allowing the scent of him to curl around me while I sleep. The day I no longer smell him might kill me. For now, I deal the best way I know how, in a world I created myself.