Page 12

Chapter Twelve

Henley

“ S ee you later, Racer,” she whispers before darting out of the door. The way her body molded to mine, the complete and utter responsiveness she had with me.

Her sweet, meek hazel eyes boring into my soul as we fucked, her mercy as I took her being and merged it with mine. She’s small but mighty…she’s mine.

She’s mine.

“Fuck,” I growl, taking off after her. Diving into the sea of people, they all look at me with weird glances. None of that matters right now. I don’t see her red-blonde hair nor the angelic white she’s wearing. Taking off to the front of the club, I stop at reception with Cass. “Has Bunny left already?”

“Who?” She asks back, obviously bored with the way she’s looking at her nails. “Strawberry blonde hair, about yay tall,” I motion to the middle of my bicep, “wearing a white sheer teddy.”

“Nope,” she says, not even looking up at me.

“Her ticket number was 71.” Cassie raises her brow, throwing a finger to the other side.

“Low numbers are on the rear end, you know that, boss man.” I growl at her blatant disrespect but ignore it for now. She can fucking wait. Taking off in the other direction, I weave my way through people coming and going from the bar, chatting mindlessly while I feel like I’m going to lose my ever loving mind.

“Jessica,” I breathe, my chest aching with the thought of my little rabbit running away. “71.” I don’t give her any other information. Her brows shoot upward, speculation on her face.

“She left a few minutes ago, looked like she was in a hurry. She didn’t steal anything, did she?” I shake my head, frustration brewing throughout my blood stream. There’s no fucking way I just let her go. Going to the back where Maximus is standing, he gives me a single nod before talking with another chauffeur.

“Strawberry blonde, white sheer teddy?” I ask, not even bothering with the rest of the useless words. They know what I mean.

He nods, pointing in the direction of the busy street. “Went that way, pretty sure I saw her get into a cab. Did she do something?”

“Ran away with my fucking heart,” I mutter as I turn on my heel and go inside, the door slamming shut behind me. Grabbing my phone, I pull up Ruel’s number and dial him.

“What’s up?” No introduction needed between us all.

“I need you to go into the system and find the girl that was here with me.” I do my best to not be a dick to my men, but the fact that she’s running around in a see-through dress has my entire body standing on guard.

“Can you be any more specific?” There’s a lilt to his voice, one that sounds as if he’s about to start laughing. If I wasn’t already frustrated before, I certainly am now.

“She came in through the back entrance, her jacket number was 71, Jess put it into the system. Pull the time she got her jacket out and find her on the cams.” My boiling blood has me hanging up the phone before he can utter another word. I don’t have time to fuck around. I don’t want to bust balls with the boys right now. There’s something about her leaving, the fear in her face when she had to leave, that isn’t sitting right with me, and I’ll be damned if I don’t fucking find her.

I debate on whether to leave the club or go back to the office, but there’s something in me that has me grabbing my helmet and racing back to the club. There’s no enjoying the night ride for me tonight as the anxiety of where she went and who she is with wraps around my throat, constricting my ability to breathe. It’s been her from the very moment I laid eyes on her petite form, and I don’t know how I’ll be able to function without her.

Is this what possession feels like? An obsession so embedded in my being that I can barely fucking breathe? It’s almost laughable, yet the thawing organ in my chest ignites with terror at the thought of losing her before I even have her.

“Hey,” Deimos calls as I stalk up the stairs to the office. There’s no denying that I’m no longer in a good fucking mood, but having him trail me like a lost puppy doesn’t make it any better. “Prez wanted to let you know there was a call, something about big money. He knows you were a little…”

“Don’t you fucking say it,” I growl, the harsh words coming out a lot louder than I anticipated. He has the balls to pale and raise his hands in surrender.

“He said that there’s a meeting in a few days, something about a lot of money. I don’t know anything else, just was told to pass on the message.” With that, he runs away as if I scolded him, tail tucked between his legs. Rolling my eyes, my phone vibrates in my pants pocket.

Ruel.

“What?” I bark, this time regretting my tone of choice, especially since I just called him not even ten minutes ago. Fucker works fast.

“I’m fine on this wonderful evening, thank you for asking,” he quips back, and I swear I can hear the eye roll. “I bring good news and bad news, which first?”

“Bad.” Everyone in their right mind knows to get the bad shit out of the way first.

“Bad news is, your little bunny is Elodie Grace DuClaire, daughter of the weaponry tycoon, Scotty DuClaire.”

My stomach sinks into my ass, and I might just vomit.

“Oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck is right,” he muses, keyboarding clicking furiously in the background. “Good news is that she is currently up for grabs.” My stomach is no longer in my ass, instead it’s right where it needs to be as my blood turns icy instead. Too many emotions are bombarding me at this moment, making it all too hard to think.

“How the fuck is that good news?” My tone must not come off serious because he chuckles at me.

“Prez wanted to chat to you about making money, and well, if you’re so worked up over her, there might be a way to turn the tables in your favor.”