Page 85
Story: Lessons Learned
Can I just walk away and let it go? Let him go?
He took the things before he discovered that I was abducted. Does that mean he wanted me back then?
If that’s the case, then why did he cut me loose?
Nothing makes fucking sense.
I’ve always followed my gut instinct, and it’s kept me alive more than once, but my stomach is turning right now and I can’t translate what it means at all.
I duck down an alleyway, hoping I fly under the radar from the FBI long enough to get out of town.
I have no family here. My grandmother was my last living relative, and she died years ago.
No friends.
No family.
I could die today, and no one would notice.
The thought doesn’t bring the same relief that it normally does, and that’s one more reason to hate Angel.
I want him to miss me. I don’t want him to just be able to steal my stuff, cut me loose, and forget about me like I never existed.
As I walk, that hatred thickens inside of me. It makes my skin hot and feverish. It makes me vengeful.
That’s exactly what I need.
In order for me to move on from this, I have to end Angel Guerra once and for all.
Chapter 33
Angel
I believed Alan Moore, Lauren’s handler, when he told me the FBI had cut ties with her, but that hasn’t stopped me from tracking him. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t made contact.
He’s just one more dead end.
I fucking hate waiting. I’m a man of action.
These long days without her agitate me, and I have every intention of taking it out on her when she finally comes slinking back.
I’ll tie her to the bed for months if I have to. I’ll give her body enough of a workout that she won’t have to worry about atrophy.
I decided weeks ago that the woman was mine. My miscalculation was thinking that she wanted to stay. I know she likes my brand of attention. I know she craves it. I love giving it to her. I love abusing her body, taking out my own retaliation, and when she comes?
“Fuck,” I grumble, swiping a hand over the top of my head.
My balls ache for release. My fingertips itch to pinch and rip and shred.
I hate her for making meneedher, but I’ll have my revenge soon enough.
I don’t know how long it will take her to realize that I’ve taken her most prized possessions, and I know she’ll never just walk away from them.
When she gets here, she’s going to be pissed, with thoughts of killing me.
I have news for her. I’m just as pissed at her for staying gone so fucking long. Hell, I’m livid she walked away in the first place.
I plan to spend the rest of my life teaching Lauren all the lessons she’ll ever need.
He took the things before he discovered that I was abducted. Does that mean he wanted me back then?
If that’s the case, then why did he cut me loose?
Nothing makes fucking sense.
I’ve always followed my gut instinct, and it’s kept me alive more than once, but my stomach is turning right now and I can’t translate what it means at all.
I duck down an alleyway, hoping I fly under the radar from the FBI long enough to get out of town.
I have no family here. My grandmother was my last living relative, and she died years ago.
No friends.
No family.
I could die today, and no one would notice.
The thought doesn’t bring the same relief that it normally does, and that’s one more reason to hate Angel.
I want him to miss me. I don’t want him to just be able to steal my stuff, cut me loose, and forget about me like I never existed.
As I walk, that hatred thickens inside of me. It makes my skin hot and feverish. It makes me vengeful.
That’s exactly what I need.
In order for me to move on from this, I have to end Angel Guerra once and for all.
Chapter 33
Angel
I believed Alan Moore, Lauren’s handler, when he told me the FBI had cut ties with her, but that hasn’t stopped me from tracking him. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t made contact.
He’s just one more dead end.
I fucking hate waiting. I’m a man of action.
These long days without her agitate me, and I have every intention of taking it out on her when she finally comes slinking back.
I’ll tie her to the bed for months if I have to. I’ll give her body enough of a workout that she won’t have to worry about atrophy.
I decided weeks ago that the woman was mine. My miscalculation was thinking that she wanted to stay. I know she likes my brand of attention. I know she craves it. I love giving it to her. I love abusing her body, taking out my own retaliation, and when she comes?
“Fuck,” I grumble, swiping a hand over the top of my head.
My balls ache for release. My fingertips itch to pinch and rip and shred.
I hate her for making meneedher, but I’ll have my revenge soon enough.
I don’t know how long it will take her to realize that I’ve taken her most prized possessions, and I know she’ll never just walk away from them.
When she gets here, she’s going to be pissed, with thoughts of killing me.
I have news for her. I’m just as pissed at her for staying gone so fucking long. Hell, I’m livid she walked away in the first place.
I plan to spend the rest of my life teaching Lauren all the lessons she’ll ever need.
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