Chapter 22: Mr Garcia: Chapter 22

“I swear to God, we need to get this bitch snuffed out,” Spencer whispers as he blows into his coffee cup.

I roll my eyes. “Who says snuffed out?”

“I do.”

“Right, because you’re so gangster,” I huff. “Spencer Jones, Mafioso.”

“Yeah, well, this fucking bitch has got it coming. I could be gangster if I wanted to be. I could totally get her snuffed out. Surely Masters knows some hitmen who owe him a favor?”

I look around guiltily. “Keep your voice down,” I whisper.

“What did she take, that’s what I want to know?” he asks. “What the fuck was she doing in your house, and how did she get in if the locks weren’t touched?”

“That’s what I want to know, too.”

We both fall silent as we think.

“Helena doesn’t do anything without an agenda,” I say.

“I know, but what is it?” Spencer asks.

“Money. It’s always about money with her.”

“What about how she chased her?”

I get a vision of April chasing Helena out of the house, and I smile, impressed. “She’s a ballsy bitch, I’ll give her that.” I smile.

“Mr. Garcia?” A doctor walks around the corner.

“Yes?” I stand.

“April’s tests are all back. She has a heavy concussion but is clear to be released into care. Are you okay to stay with her or should I call family?”

“I’ll look after her. Is everything okay?”

“Thankfully, she’ll make a full recovery. I’ve written up a prescription for pain meds. She’ll have a headache for a few days. She’s very lucky.”

“Thank you.” I shake his hand. “I really appreciate it.”

The doctor leaves us alone, and I turn to Spencer. “Do you want to come in and say hi?”

He thinks for a second, “No, it’s okay. I’ll meet her properly some other time. She wouldn’t be in the mood for me. Send her my best wishes, though.” He shakes my hand. “Keep me posted.” He heads for the door.

“Spence?” I call, and he turns back. “Thanks.”

He flashes me a smile, and with a curt nod, he turns and leaves.

If ever there was a faithful friend, it’s Spencer Jones.

The late afternoon sunlight shines through the window. April is fast asleep in my bed, and I’m sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

No locks were broken, which can only mean one thing. Helena had a key.

How?

The locksmiths should be here soon. I’ve had my security company working on the alarm systems all afternoon. Apparently, the recording function was turned off from inside the house about three weeks ago, which means this isn’t the first time Helena has been here.

What the fuck does she want?

I haven’t been able to ask April anymore questions—she’s still sleepy—but I have this lead ball in the pit of my stomach.

If April had hit her head any harder, she may have…

I close my eyes.

I’m sickened that things have gone the way that they did.

“Seb?” April whispers.

I get up and move to sit on the side of the bed. “I’m here, baby.” I take her hand in mine, bend, and softly kiss her cheek. “I’m not leaving. Go back to sleep.”

She smiles sleepily and closes her heavy eyelids once more.

I hold her hand as I stare at her beautiful face. She has the bluest black eye I’ve ever seen.

So many thoughts are running through my mind. So much hate and resentment. Feelings that I never thought I’d have for someone I once loved.

What was Helena looking for?

Tomorrow, we have to talk to the police, and a decision needs to be made as to what I want to do with this. I know what I want to do.

I picture my hand around Helena’s throat. Nothing would give me more pleasure than strangling that bitch.

If only…

The delicious aroma of bacon and eggs wakes me from my slumber.

I stretch and look around Sebastian’s bedroom. Jeez, what day is it?

I feel like I’ve been zonked out for a week.

I get up and go to the bathroom. As I’m washing my hands, I look in the mirror and cringe. My eye is closed, and it’s so bruised, it’s a deep blue. I gently pad the swollen, sore tissue around my eyebrow, and I wince in pain.

Hell, I did a good job of it, that’s for sure.

Damn it, I wish I caught that bitch and punched her square in the face.

How dare she come here?

I wash my face and try to open my eye, but it throbs. Bloody hell, how do boxers do this all the time? Black eyes are surprisingly painful. Even my eyeball is sore.

I tie my hair back, pull on Sebastian’s robe, and I make my way downstairs toward the kitchen.

I’m starving.

I find Sebastian in the kitchen. He’s stirring something in a frying pan, wearing navy pajama pants and a white T-shirt.

He looks up and gives me a breathtaking smile. “Here she is, Rocky Balboa.”

I smile as I make my way over to him. He takes me into his arms. “Clumsy Balboa, more like it.” I peer into the frying pan to see an omelet. “That smells delicious.”

He kisses my forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” I shrug. “A little embarrassed, if I’m honest.”

“Why?”

“Because at the most crucial moment of all time, I fall over and clock my head. I should have caught her.”

“Are you sure you fell over?”

“Yes.”

His eyes hold mine, as if not believing me for a second. Wait, he doesn’t think…

“She wouldn’t beat me in a fight, you know.” I say as I put my hands on my hips.

He bites his bottom lip to hide his smile.

“I’m pretty tough, Sebastian.”

“I have no doubt.” He kisses me softly. “Never pictured you for a brawler, though.”

“Yeah, well, some people trigger me.”

He chuckles. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” I look at the clock on the wall and step out of his arms. “Shit, we’re late for work.”

“Not so fast.” He pulls out the stool at the kitchen counter and sits me down. “I’ve cancelled the trip away this week and we’re both working from home for a few days.” He puts two cups of coffee on the counter.

He never has a day off. “Why?”

“Because you look like the evil dead, and I’m playing nurse.” He passes me a fork.

I smile goofily as I take it from him. “Oh.” I take a bite of my omelet. “This is good. Thank you.”

He flicks the tea towel over his shoulder and watches me eat.

“Are you eating?” I ask.

“I ate two hours ago.”

“Oh.” I shovel another mouthful in. “So, what was she looking for?” I ask.

He twists his lips. “I have no idea.”

“She took something; I know she did.”

He pulls out the stool beside me and sits down. “Tell me exactly what happened… from the beginning.”

“I was upstairs, and I was drifting in and out of sleep. I rolled over to get my phone, and Bentley was on the floor beside me. He sat up with his ears pricked up, as though he heard something. Then I heard something. I thought you must have come home.” I shrug. “I walked out into the hallway, and I saw the security screens. Someone was walking up the hallway, dressed in black with a balaclava on.”

“A balaclava?” he gasps.

“Yes, like full robber’s kit. I was freaking out. I called you, and you didn’t answer. I kept watching the screen, and the person walked into your office.”

He listens intently.

“Has she been here before?” I ask.

“Never.”

“Well, she knew where she was going. It wasn’t like it was her first time in the house.”

“Hmm.”

“Anyway, she got into the office and took off her balaclava. At that point, I was relieved.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t a serial killer.”

“Trust me, a serial killer is the lesser evil.” He widens his eyes.

“She started going through your desk drawers, and I was freaking out. I didn’t want her to see me, and I couldn’t get you, so I went out onto the balcony and called the police. Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

“I left it in the damn car.”

I roll my eyes. “Then she was trying to get into your filing cabinet. She got the keys, and then she tripped over Bentley, so she kicked him.”

“She what?”

“She kicked him.”

“How hard?”

“Not really hard but enough for me to march down there. When I got there, she was rummaging through the top drawer. She put something behind her back.”

“What did it look like?”

“A piece of paper, I think. I don’t know for sure, but it was from the back of the drawer. I’ll show you.”

“Eat your breakfast first.”

“No.” I march down to his office and pull out the drawer. The dividers are spaced apart at the back. “Here. Whatever she took, it’s from around here.”

The divider heading reads:

Bank Statements

“Why would she want a bank statement?” I ask.

“To see how much money I have.” He frowns, deep in thought.

“Why would she want to know that?”

“I don’t know.” He takes my hand. “Your omelet is going cold.”

“I’m sorry I let her get away.” I sigh as I follow him up the hall.

“Don’t you worry about Helena. She’s not your problem.” He sits me back down at the kitchen counter.

I pick up my fork. “Yeah, well, she’s messing with the wrong woman.”

He smirks.

“If she wants to get to you, she has to get through me.” I thumb my chest.

He breaks into a breathtaking broad smile and reaches up to touch my eye socket. I wince.

“It’s such a relief to have a brave, burly bodyguard,” he says.

I smile, embarrassed. “Don’t let this black eye fool you, Seb. I am one tough motherfucker.”

“I know.”

“And if I wanted to take her down, I totally could.”

“Of course, you could, sweetheart.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear as he smiles lovingly at me.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m hideous.”

“I happen to think you look lovely.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“One hundred percent. You’re hideous.”

I giggle, and he leans over to kiss me. “Eat your omelet before I make you eat dick.”

It’s mid-afternoon and, like teenagers playing hooky, we are back in bed. It’s warm and dark, and we’re nestled up together underneath the blankets. Sebastian is leaning on his elbow, lying on his side, facing me. I’m wearing panties and a T-shirt, and his hand is roaming over my body as his eyes hold mine.

It’s the weirdest thing. We haven’t had sex for a long time—maybe a week—and yet I’ve never felt closer to him. There’s an unspoken tenderness passing between us. The same one that used to turn up when we’d lie in each other’s arms after we’d made love. Only now it’s there all the time.

Maybe the therapist did know what she was talking about?

‘Maybe I should take your temperature.’ He whispers as his lips softly take mine, he slides my panties down my legs to take them off.

I smile against his lips, ‘You really should.’

If I were stronger, I would tell him to stop, but I don’t want him to.

I need him.

This.

He spreads my legs, and his fingertips slowly trail up my inner thigh. Our eyes are locked, and the air between us is electric. He dusts the back of his fingers over the lips of my sex, and a trace of a smile crosses his face. “Just as I suspected, thirty, seven point two,” he whispers.

I giggle, best thermometer ever.

Unable to control it, my legs spread wider, and I put my top leg over his body to completely open myself up to him.

In.

I want you in.

His fingers start to circle my lips, and I hold my breath.

Deeper and deeper.

Oh…

He slowly slides a thick finger in, and we both inhale sharply as his lips take mine.

He adds another finger, and my eyes flutter closed. He takes both fingers out and explores again. He circles them over my back entrance, and I hold my breath again. “Why don’t we have sex here?” he asks. His voice is soft and husky. Aroused.

“That’s not my thing. We will never have sex there.”

“Have you done it before?”

I give a subtle shake of my head. “No.”

His eyes blaze with desire, and I can almost hear his psyche screaming with excitement. “Why not?”

“It’s too much.”

“Too much what?” he whispers as he bends and bites my nipple through my shirt. He slides his thumb deep into my sex, his fingers still exploring that forbidden zone.

The double pleasure sensation makes my mouth fall open as we stare at each other.

“I’m saving that for my forever man.”

He smiles as he kisses me, his pinkie inching in a little. The feeling of his thumb pumping deep inside of me and his pinkie finger hovering there does things to me, and I moan with a shudder.

The need for a deeper connection steals my breath.

Fuck, yes.

He bites my bottom lip. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this. I can feel the need in your body.” His tongue delves deep into my mouth as he kisses me passionately, and I can’t deny it. When he touches me there, it feels too good. Who am I kidding? Every touch from Sebastian Garcia is out of this world.

He rolls over me and spreads my legs, just as the doorbell rings out from downstairs. He frowns, and keeps kissing me, but it rings again. His phone begins to buzz on the side table.

“Fuck off!” he snaps, annoyed at the interruption.

The doorbell rings once more, and another text comes in.

“Check who it is?” I whisper.

He sits up and reads his phone. It’s a message from Bart.

I’m at your front door.

He rolls his eyes and sits up. “Bart’s here.”

“Oh God.” My body is screaming out for more. “It’s okay, you go.”

He exhales heavily and stands. He leans down, and with his hands on the mattress above my head, he kisses me. “Don’t move a muscle.”

“You think I’m just going to lie here with my legs spread, waiting for your return?”

“You’d better.” He stands and rearranges his dick in his track pants. He pulls an oversized sweater on and checks himself in the mirror. “Don’t want to be scaring Bart with my hungry dick,” he mutters.

I lie still, all hot and flustered. “I’m pretty sure Bart’s seen hungry dicks before.”

“True.”

Ahh, so he knows Bart is gay. Another piece of the puzzle I didn’t know. I wonder if he knows about Jeremy.

He disappears downstairs, and I lie in bed. I hear him open the door, followed by Bart’s distinctive voice.

I sit up so I can listen. Their voices are muffled. I quickly get dressed and head to the door and out into the hallway.

“Well, what was she doing here?” I hear Bart ask.

“Looking for something,” Sebastian replies.

“Like what? Where was she?”

“My office. I’ll show you the drawer she was in.” I hear them walk down the hallway and into Sebastian’s office.

I wonder how long Bart has been dealing with Helena’s bullshit. He’s been with Sebastian for a while, but I don’t think she’s done anything like this for years. Although, I could be wrong. I slink down to sit on the top step as I wait for them to finish.

What was that bitch doing here?

I get a memory of her hiding something behind her back. Damn it, why didn’t I grab it from her? What was it?

Their voices become loud again as they walk toward the front door.

“You tell me now,” Bart says. “If there are any skeletons you are hiding, anything that you could think of that she could dig up, I need to know.”

“No. Nothing new,” Sebastian replies.

“It’s okay if there is, but I need to know now so that I can act before the story hits.”

Shit.

I can’t sit here and pretend like there’s not something he should know. It’s only a matter of time before Helena works out who I am. Bart is my boss. He deserves the truth.

I stand and walk down the stairs. Sebastian glances up and sees me, his face falls.

Bart looks up, startled, and he frowns. “April?” I give him an awkward smile, and his eyes flicker to Sebastian in question. His eyes come back to me. “What happened to you?”

“I had an altercation with a kitchen countertop,” I say. “There is something you should know, Bart.”

Bart raises his eyebrow, already knowing what it is and seemingly unimpressed. “Go on…”

“I was here when Helena broke in. She didn’t know who I was, and I pretended to be the cleaner.”

He exhales heavily.

“I chased her, tripped and hit the kitchen counter. I ended up in hospital. The police are coming over this afternoon for questioning.”

He puts his hands in his suit pockets, and his eyes drift to Sebastian for clarification.

I glance over to see Sebastian is glaring at me with a thermonuclear anger.

Huh?

“Do you have something to tell me?” Bart asks, looking between us.

Sebastian twists his lips, and his unimpressed eyes hold mine.

“Yes,” I reply. “I’ve been seeing Sebastian on a personal level for a while. We met years ago and have recently reconnected.” I shrug nervously. “We are… together.”

“You didn’t think to tell me this before you started?” he snaps.

“With due respect, I didn’t realize we would be working with Sebastian.” My eyes flicker between the two of them. “I’m resigning from your team, effective immediately. I’m going back to my normal duties.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenches as he glares at me. “You don’t need to resign.”

“Yes, she does,” Bart interrupts. “You think I need this publicity nightmare? The Deputy Prime Minister is sleeping with his legal counsel. For fuck’s sake, what are you two thinking?” He sighs. “I should have been told.”

“I’m telling you now,” I hit back. “And for the record, we are dating, so you need to get over it and handle Helena.”

“I’m really disappointed, April. I didn’t think you were the type to sleep with a client. This will not look good on your resume.”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Sebastian barks. “She isn’t sleeping with a client. You heard her. We’re together. And she’s right! You just fucking worry about Helena.”

I bite my lip to hide my smile. Hope runs through me.

“What am I supposed to say when the story breaks about you two?” he retorts.

“There is no story,” I reply sharply. “I don’t work for him now. I’m just a regular lawyer that he’s dating. There is no headline story here anymore, Bart. What you need to work out is what the hell Helena took from this house.”

“Are you really going to give up the opportunity of a lifetime?” Bart asks me.

“I would give up any job on Earth to be with him.” My eyes find Sebastian’s, and his brow furrows.

It’s true, I would.

I have.

“Fine.” Bart rolls his eyes and makes for the door. “I’ll be in touch.” The door slams on his way out.

“Are you serious?” Sebastian growls.

Huh? He’s angry?

My face falls.

“How dare you?” He turns and marches into the kitchen. I run after him like a puppy.

“W-what do you mean?” I stammer.

“You didn’t think to discuss this with me before you blurt it out to the fucking world?”

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out.

“Is this your master plan?” he yells. “Railroad me into a relationship?”

“What?”

“We have never discussed coming out about us. And you resigned from your fucking job. What the hell was that?” he cries. “Are you deaf, dumb, or just plain stupid?”

My eyes bulge as I put my hands on my hips. “Listen here, you asshole,” I growl. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I will tell my boss the truth. And for the record, we are in a fucking relationship, so you’d better grow the fuck up and appreciate it.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll see what fucking happens, that’s what!”

“Do not threaten me, April.”

“I’m sick of your childish bullshit, Sebastian.” I turn and march toward the stairs, and he follows me like a bull.

“What does that mean?”

I turn on him like the devil. “It means that you had better man up. Grow some balls and let yourself love me or step the fuck back so that someone else can.”

He narrows his eyes. “Another threat?”

“That one’s a promise, asshole.”

“Stop calling me asshole.”

“Then stop acting like one!” I yell back. I take the stairs two at a time.

“You may as well go home!” he cries after me. “I will not be railroaded into anything, April. What next? You demand I marry you?”

My anger explodes.

I get to the top of the stairs and see his runners sitting in the hall. I pick one up and hurl it down at him. He ducks out of the way, deflecting it to the side. It hits the wall with a thud. “I’ll go home when I’m good and ready and not a minute before!” I shout. Nobody makes me angrier than this fucking stupid man.

Ouch, yelling hurts. I put my hand over my eye.

“What?” he yells.

“You’re hurting my eye!” I cry.

“Well, you’re hurting my fucking brain!”

“Impossible, you don’t have one.” I march up the hall and into his bedroom, and I slam the door hard.

I flop onto the bed in disgust. Adrenaline is pumping through my body.

Fuck you, asshole.

I snuggle into my pillow. It’s dark, and I glance over to see the clock. 8:00 p.m.

Shit, I’ve been asleep for hours.

I laid here and listened to Sebastian slamming things around downstairs for a while, and then I must have drifted off. The house is silent now, and I wonder if he is over his tantrum yet.

I get up and go to the bathroom. I wash my hands and go back to bed.

I pick up my phone and text my mom and my sister Eliza. I scroll through Instagram for a while before the bedroom door opens, and Sebastian comes into view.

His eyes find mine, and without saying anything, he walks into his wardrobe.

I roll my eyes. Great, now he’s sulking and getting dressed to go out.

I lie still, waiting for his next tantrum. He is the last word freak. He won’t let this go.

I know he won’t.

He’s right, though. I should have discussed this with him first, but in my defense, I was just being honest.

Sebastian walks out of the wardrobe completely naked and leans against the doorframe. My eyes drop down to see that he’s rock hard.

Huh?

We stare at each other for a moment.

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

Uneasiness falls over me. “What do you mean?”

He pushes off the wall to come and stand in front of me. His hard cock is only inches from my face.

“Sebastian…”

He pulls my T-shirt over my head and throws it to the side. He grabs my foot and drags me to the side of the bed as his dark eyes hold mine.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I know this look. It’s the one he used to give me at the Escape Club. The one where he fucks me like he hates me. Truth be told, he probably does.

He reaches down and puts his hand around my throat, gripping it hard as we stare at each other.

Electricity crackles between us.

“I have needs,” he whispers.

Excitement tears through me. This is wrong, but holy fuck, it’s hot.

“So do I.”

I spread my legs. His grip around my throat tightens as my heart hammers in my chest.

“Having a boyfriend like me…”

I know.

I give him a nervous nod. Somehow, I don’t think my no sex rule is going to apply here tonight.

He’s angry, and I know that we need this.

This is next level.

He bends and spits on my sex, creating a lubricant. Then he bends and licks me there. I nearly convulse on the spot. What the hell?

How is he so hot?

He rises and slides his tip through my wanting lips, then slams into me. The burn of his possession stings, and I whimper.

Our eyes are locked as he holds his weight off me with one hand, the other still tightly around my throat.

“Seb,” I whimper, and he squeezes harder.

“Don’t.”

I’m silenced, the darkness taking over.

Oh God…. this is what I crave, the darkness within him.

Sating the darkness within me.

His thick cock begins to pump me hard, the sound of his moans echoing around the room. All I can do is clench around his beautiful body.

He won’t kiss me, instead licking my parted lips. The pleasure building between us is like a fire.

His raw dominance, his thick cock… my heart freefalling from my chest.

He flips us so that he is sitting, and I am over the top of him. We come face to face as we stare at each other.

“I love you,” he whispers, as if pained.

My eyes well with tears because, hell, if this isn’t the best I love you I’ve ever had.

“I know.”

His face falls.

“I love you, too,” I whisper.