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I ignore her. My son is perfect.
Finally, I leave Gabe’s room, closing the door behind me. I stop by the bedroom I’m sharing with Summer.
There has been no repeat of that morning two and half weeks ago, but every night, I sleep in her bed. She hasn’t mentioned that morning again and there has been no sign of her wanting to repeat it. As much as she thought she was ready for that next step, I knew she wasn’t. I meant what I said, I was going to make her crave me.
I quickly grab my black duffle out of the closet. Taking it to the bed, I place it down before sitting on the bench seat at the foot of the bed. Grabbing my boots, I start to put them on. The sound of Summer’s soft footfalls alert me to her approach. My heart stutters in my chest at the anticipation of seeing her.
I look up at the door as soon as she walks in. She’s wearing a long dress with thin shoulder straps. Her braids are hanging down her back. She folds her hands over her chest and glares at me.
“Just because he wanted you to read to him tonight doesn’t mean you’re the favorite. He asked me to cut the crust off his bread today, so.” She sticks out her tongue.
A smile creeps on my face. “We both know you are the leading lady in Gabe’s life. I’m just a supporting role.”
“Yeah, well you better know it.” She laughs, before walking further into the room. “Where to tonight?”
She takes a seat beside me on the bench as I finish putting my boots on.
“Checking out a new source. I may be home late. Don’t wait up.”
When I look over to her, she has a huge grin on her face. It’s out of place in the moment and I have no idea why she’s so happy.
“What?” I ask.
She bumps my arm with her shoulder. “You called it home.”
I didn’t realize I’d made the slip up. I also don’t have the heart to tell her that even though this feels more like home to me than any place I’ve ever stayed, it won’t change the outcome. Instead of saying this, I pinch her chin between my pointer and thumb and drop a quick kiss on her lips.
“Don’t wait up.” I force myself to stand and walk away from her.
That kiss alone has me wanting to sit back down, pull her into my lap as I lift her dress, and push my dick into her.
Grabbing my duffle off the ground, I head for the door.
“Gabriel.”
I stop when she calls my name. However, I don’t turn to look at her. My restraint won’t last but for so long.
“Be safe,” she finally says.
My fist unclenches at my side. I hadn’t even realized it was clenched.
“Goodnight, Summer,” I walk out of the room after that.
I needed to put distance between me and her before I miss my opportunity and decide to spend the rest of my night in her bed.
**
I’ve spent the last two weeks going over everything in Timothy Smith’s laptop. Other than infidelity, money laundering, paying off politicians and cops to get away with everything from murder, theft, and domestic abuse, there isn’t anything that links him to the Church.
I figured in order to get down to the bottom of it, I need to talk to the man himself. Which is why I’m at his office for his late-night meeting.
I got here just as the place was closing down. The meeting tonight is held after hours. I had about three hours to get my stuff in order. I’d already studied the blueprint of the building, making note of all entrances and exits. I had time to scope out all the cameras. This building has over 200 cameras. They were all on different networks, it wasn’t as easy to cut all the cameras at once like I’m used to. In the end, I only cut the ones I’d needed. Security also does a sweep of the building every half hour. I had to make sure I timed everything to avoid bumping into them.
I placed a camera and recording device in Smith’s office facing the door right over his desk. I don the janitor’s uniform I’d pre-ordered and take out the mop bucket.
Nearly twenty minutes before the scheduled meeting the elevator dings. Tim Smith rushes out and hurries past me into his office closing the door. Not once did he look up at me. If he had, he would’ve noticed that I look nothing like the usual older black man that cleans his office.
Ten minutes later, the elevator dings again. Two people step off. One is a woman wearing a gray pants suit and blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. She’s tall. With those high heels on, she’s about two inches shorter than me. I don’t miss the obvious gun she has concealed at her back. She walks with her head high, her eyes straight ahead and her shoulders back. She doesn’t glance in my direction as she walks by me. Which tells me she’s wealthy, but also deadly.
