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My instincts tell me to head to Gold Royale's office. Perhaps Paulie did the right thing and brought back my stuff. I'm hoping that whatever fence they took it to will take one look at it and realize it's my work. No one wants to cross me.
The office is quiet when I show up in the early evening. Dennis looks frantic as he sorts papers across the desk Gemma normally sits at. I'd be a fool to think she'd come into work. I'm just happy she hasn't called the police yet.
"So, Mr. Arnold, do you have my stuff?" I ask just as someone walks in behind me. I turn around, hoping it's Gemma, but it's a customer. I tell them, "Can you please come back in about ten minutes?"
"No wait, um, Sandman, I mean, Mr. Knox. I have everything you need. Sir, Mr. Feldman, you can come over to the desk," Dennis says to the gentleman.
Fear forces people to make irrational decisions. But, in this case, it makes Dennis put his life and the life of a stranger in the line of fire. However, he says he has everything I need, and I imagine he's not lying.
"How's Gemma doing?" I ask him.
Dennis snaps his gaze at me just as the customer looks between the both of us. The customer makes the smart decision to leave, which angers the man behind the desk.
"You have a lot of nerve coming in here and scaring away customers," he grumbles and snarls as he shoves an envelope against my chest.
"You didn't answer my question."
"She's fine. She's fine," he says, throwing his hands in the air. "Whatever you told her has her wanting to take days off, and she wants me to quit. Ah. What the fuck am I telling you any of this for? You got what you wanted. There's your money. Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops."
"The cops I already called haven't been here yet?"
"Get out, Mr. Sanders. Our business is done here." He waves me out of the office.
"I need one more thing from you, Mr. Arnold. Just in case my leads fall through, I'm going to need every address you have for Paulie the driver."
Dennis scrawls a few listings on a sheet of paper before throwing it at me. It doesn't take long for me to catch up to Paulie. It takes even less time for him to tell me where to find his buddies. After three torturous days in my basement, I get my watches back, but I do have to get rid of three bodies.
After getting my designs to my client, I actually go through the envelope of money Dennis gave to me. Twenty grand is in fresh banknotes while the other ten is clearly from money they've collected from the business. Every fiber of my being is telling me that Gemma's responsible for the twenty grand.
It takes a lot more effort to find Gemma's address than it did to find her father's. Honestly, the hunt, pursuing her, watching her from afar does something to me. She goes about her days with a smile on her face, looking over her shoulder every so often. It's like she's waiting for me. She doesn't have to wait much longer.
Gemma's apartment is a nice little one-bedroom in lower Manhattan. The time she goes out to lunch, orders dinner, and right now? She's on her way back from doing her laundry. It's perfect.
She's oblivious to her surroundings. Even as I slip in through her lobby door that closes entirely too slowly. The split second it takes for me to duck into the staircase and head up to her third-floor apartment makes me want to have a word with her landlord about the building's security. There aren't any cameras in the hallways either.
It works to my benefit as Gemma carries her laundry basket off the elevator and fumbles with her keys. Once the door unlocks, she steps inside and I push my way in behind her. A firm hand around her mouth to stop her from screaming and one arm around her waist, pulling her tight little ass against me.
"Fuck, I've missed this pussy," I growl against her ear.
Gemma drops her laundry to throw elbows and kicks at me, but it's no use. My height gives me too much leverage over her. I don't have any issues hoisting her into the air and carrying her over to her couch. I pull her panties out of my pocket, shoving them in her mouth before she can get any noise out.
"You knew I'd come back for you, for what you did. You wanted this," I tell her with a breath of satisfaction. She's wearing a pair of sweatpants that are far too easy to pull down, but once I get them over her ass to see nothing underneath, my cock's hard as a rock.
I pull it out, spit on the tip, and with one hand gripping both her wrists, I nudge her legs apart with my knee. One dip and push has me burying every inch of my erection inside Gemma's sweet cunt. She gets wet for me almost immediately as she chokes and screams through the panties in her mouth.
She spits them out after a few strokes, moaning, but her voice is laced with anger as she speaks between thrusts. "Fuck you."
"You already are." I chuckle and pull out. I spin her around, stepping on her sweatpants as I pull her out of them. She continues to kick and punch, but she's not screaming.
"Let go of me, Knox. You don't get to do this to me again."
"Too late, Gemma. You belong to me and I always take what belongs to me." My tone is dark, carrying her into the bedroom under my arm like a football. I toss her onto the bed, spreading her legs as she continues to fight me. Every hit comes in hard and fast.
When she connects her open hand to my face, she splits my lip. The taste of an open cut annoys me to the point I wrap my hand around her throat. She focuses all of her efforts on scratching at my arm as I choke the shit out of her, slamming my cock back inside her pussy.
Every stroke is a fight, a battle between the orgasmic bliss of being inside of her again and the fact that I should have never come for her. I manage to pull her shirt up, revealing her tits and using the fabric to restrain her arms. It gives me plenty of room to suck on her perky, supple, soft nipples.
I find myself nearing my climax, but I'm not ready. I pull out and drop in front of her, running my tongue between her slit and making her come all over my mouth. Her body writhes against my chin, thrusting for me to bring it over the edge of another orgasm.
