James’s [POV]
I’ve never mastered the skill of self-control.
It’s something I pride myself on now, even if Beau and Grey look at me with unease when I chuckle to myself, or I give what Beau calls the ‘crazy smile.’
The only thing that keeps me sane is my sketchbook, where I can channel whatever neurotic and red-hot energy fuels my veins.
I shouldn’t have stayed outside her room, like a goddamn pervert.
I already tortured her enough by playing mind games with her.
But like I said self-control: is not my strong suit.
I should receive a fucking award though, for not barging at the moment I heard her touching herself.
Her little gasps and her quiet, breathy moans made my dick twitch, and if Wilson hadn’t rushed down the hallway, his big cat eyes judging me, I would have jerked off right there.
I came to her room to give her the drawing I knew I made an ass of myself earlier, but she doesn’t understand how deep my obsession with her goes. Or the depth of emotions that rage through me every time I see her beautiful face.
The sketch was a small apology.
I’m not sorry for what I said, though.
If I ever see her ex-boyfriend, I’ll tear him limb from limb, slowly.
If she cries for him, then I’ll just kill him more slowly.
He’s not worth her tears.
No one is worth her tears but me, Beau, and Grey.
But she doesn’t know that yet.
Which is fuckingfrustrating.
Of course, she warmed up to Beau immediately. He has a welcoming, comforting personality, unlike Grey and me.
Grey is emotionally constipated, while I’m… too emotional.
This is what leads me downstairs to a distressed Charlotte and tense Grey, my foster brother narrowing his eyes at Charlotte. Beau stands next to them, his face wary.
“What else did he ask?” Grey demands as Charlotte regards him with unease.
“I’ve told you, Grey. He wanted to know if we had a guest under the name Harper, or if we were expecting a reservation under that name soon. I told him no.”
What the fuck?
“Wait, that asshole ex-boyfriend called here?” I demand, and Grey turns to me.
“Yes. While you were out doing whatever the fuck you do, he called her and said she was hisfiance. She looked terrified.”
“That fucker,” I mutter.
Grey snarls his next words. “She said he hit her.”
But I can’t comprehend what he says, and I blink slowly. “He did what?”
“He hurt her,” Beau adds sadly.
I don’t know what happens in the next few moments, only that there’s shouting, and Beau and Grey are holding me back.
“JAMES!” Grey snarls as I come to. “Snap out of it! You’re going to scare the shit out of her! More than you already do.”
My chest heaves as I look around. The desk lamp lies on the ground, smashed, while Charlotte glares at me with crossed arms.
“Hehurther,” I hiss, and Grey nods in agreement as he and Beau let me go.
“Yes, but he’s not here, James. And we can only do so much,” Grey says. “It wouldn’t make sense for us to try to hunt the guy down.”
“But her reservation is only until this weekend,” Beau adds anxiously, looking pointedly at Grey. “She’s set to leave Sunday.”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“We’ll figure something out,” Grey says. “We’ll make sure she doesn’t leave.”
I scoff. Easier said than done.
“How?” I demand. “You want to chain her up? As fun as that sounds”
Her screams pierce the air, muffled from upstairs, and we all visibly flinch. They’re the same screams from last night, haunting and heartbreaking. Charlotte sighs, rubbing her forehead.
“That poor girl,” she murmurs.
Her screams continue, and we stand there, grief etched into our faces.
I can’t go to her. None of us can, despite our Alpha instincts.
I don’t know Harper.
She doesn’t know me.
So instead, I head out the back door and deep into the garden, doing my best to drown out her voice, guilt ripping my heart apart.
My apartment is a few minutes from here, but I refuse to go back now that Harper’s here.
The Aurora Innis is my home.
Again.