Page 35 of Hate to Love You
My eyes scan the area, looking for Igor’s black Range Rover, as well as for any passersby who might see me lingering around. I might appear as if I belong, but that can only keep me unnoticed for so long, the last thing I need is for someone to report me.
Bingo.
Striding over, I pull the small tracking device from my pocket and lean down to quickly put it in the wheel arch. My eyes are drawn to the awful custom rims he has on it; wide and shining brighter than his future. Drawing in a breath, I place a hand over my ear, before standing to my full height, pretending that I dropped my earring, just in case there’s security cameras. Relief floods through me as I walk out of the exit, a satisfied smile on my face.
Throwing my hand out to hail a cab, a chuckle escapes me. Overall, it was a good night. I secured the tracker to Igor’s car and got a new lead, Nikotech Investments.
The floor thumps upstairs as Lily jumps down from wherever she was perched as I toss my keys on the table.
While I wait for her, I kick off my heels, flexing my toes, the instant relief sinking into my sore skin. I love wearing them, but they are deadly. I walk past the thermostat throwing it on max as I pass. The fall air has gone straight to my bones after tonight.
Lily comes running down the stairs meowing loudly at me.
“I know sweet girl, let’s warm the house up and snuggle down in bed, shall we?”
As I head toward the kitchen, I flick on the hallway lamp. That’s one thing that I have always done since my parents died. Little Abby used to think that if she left the light on, they’d come home.
They didn’t.
My parents loved me, but they weren’t really around. Even before they died, I’d spent most of my childhood with my grandmother for a babysitter.
I was ten when the police showed up at the door.
Drive-by shooting, they said. Outside of the mall. Because there were no suspects, no evidence, not even a single bullet shell recovered, it became a cold case.
Grandma insisted before she died that it was organized crime. She said that my father never could stay out of trouble, a walking magnet for disaster she called him.
“Organized crime is all around us, Bambi.”
But I’ve never found it. And I’ve looked. I always wondered though, what did my parents do to deserve an ending like that?
I swipe my laptop off the kitchen counter, and creep up the stairs, not that I need to, but my late husband left me with some habits.
Be seen not heard.
After throwing my laptop on the bed, I peel myself out of the jumpsuit, and throw it in the washing basket in the ensuite. The ensuite was the only place in the house that I redecorated.
I went with white marble tiles all over, a large corner walk-in shower that has black glass framed screens and a 72” clawfoot bath to match. The bath was a requirement, it took me weeks to hunt it down, but it was worth it. The stress literally melts out of my body as I feel my muscles relax.
Part of me wishes I had time to soak in the tub now, but it is already well past 1:00 a.m. and I still have shit to do.
Luckily my late husband was very well off, and I could live off his investments as the sole beneficiary. However, funds will be running low soon. The greenhouse alone costs me thousands a month to maintain.
Only the best for my babies.
At some point I should probably look for consistent work. The freelance drawings I do currently, while great, don’t provide a steady income. Especially as I focus heavily on tattoo sketching. The market for them died out after it stopped trending.
“Alexa, turn on the shower to 100 degrees.”
I jump in the shower and lean my head back under the spray, my body relaxing and finally warming up after my little outing.
Teddy is going to be a problem.
I can’t keep leading him on and playing cat and mouse.
However, I also don’t want to burn the bridge. He’s my entry when they close the club for exclusive events.
Not that I’d off a man at one of those. It would be too obvious.