Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 65

hapter 65

When he’s done, he stands up and stands close to her, a little too close. She’s tilting her head back while smiling in a way 1 haven’t seen in days. A smile that’s light and open. The kind of smile that knocks the breath out of me because I remember what it felt like the first time she gave it to

1. me.

Then it happens.

He hands her his clipboard and a pen, presumably so she can sign some documentation. But before she hands it back, she scribbles something in the corner, tears it off, and tucks it under the binder of the clipboard.

“Nope,” I growl as I stand so suddenly my chair skids back with a screech, and my hands curl around the edge of the desk.

Griffin leans closer to the screen, asking, “ts that her phone number?” Then he turns around towards me, slowly, like he’s dealing with a wild animal. “You know this could be innocent, right? People do still talk to strangers on the street. Exchange numbers with each other. Have harmless, flirty banter that means absolutely nothing.”

1 lock eyes with him, my voice low and lethal, as I ask, “Did that look harmless to you?”

He shrugs, but there’s an edge of caution behind his nonchalance now. “It looked like a woman being reminded she’s desirable, and taking back her power. Maybe it wouldn’t hit so hard if you hadn’t ghosted her.”

I want to break something preferably his face.

Once the guy leaves, Harley disappears inside, her front door swinging shut behind her, and I pause the feed, then just stare at the frame.

Griffin slips from his perch and sits down on the chair he occupied earlier. “You know, you could go to her. Explain everything. And apologize profusely.”

“And say

ay what?” I snarl, “That I’m a vampire king being hunted by someone who wants me dead? Oh, and by the way, I’ve been watching you through street cameras like a deranged ghost with Wi–Fi?“,

“Maybe that should not be your opening line, Griffin mutters, his lips twitching slightly

I breathe out, slow and sharp, like it might stop me from setting the whole building on fire.

I call up

Holland again, and the line only rings once before his voice grates into my ear, “Sir?”

“Get me everything on Miller’s Auto Works. The owner and every employee’s name, address, driver’s Licenses, past convictions, even their blood types and what they had for breakfast two weeks ago.”

The line goes dead without a reply from him, but I know he’s already running it.

Griffin’s watching me, his arms crossed, and his mouth pulled into something between amusement and concern. “You do realize this might not be about him. Or even her. This might be about you refusing to face what you want.”

I glare at him before stating, “I know exactly what I want.”

Without answering him, I turn away from him and the screen. My reflection in my office windows looks like a ghost–one dressed in custom Italian suits and haunted by a woman who doesn’t know she owns him.

Eventually, I get my breathing under control and order, “Get out, Griffin.”

He doesn’t move, though, instead saying. “You know this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a number. You’re reading into it because you’re scared!”

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