“Shit,” Sabby moaned from somewhere to my left. “What time is it?”
I cracked one eyelid to peer at my watch. “Fuck, it’s only seven. Go back to sleep.”
Instead, she did the opposite, sitting up with a yelp and shouting a curse. “Fuck! Shit, fuck! My flight leaves in two hours! Crap!”
In her scramble to get out of bed, I caught an elbow to the boob, and Jude cursed her out when her leg got kicked.
“Sorry!” Sabine yelled out, disappearing into the bathroom to pee with the door half open. “I gotta go, or I’m in real shit.”
Jude and I exchanged a smile, and I yawned as I sat up. “Do you wanna take Carlos’s plane, Sab?”
There was a pause from the bathroom, then the toilet flushed and our friend appeared in the doorway with a big smile. “Only if you insist, DeLuna.”
I rolled my eyes, and Jude hid her face under a pillow as she shook with laughter.
“I absolutely insist, Sabine. I won’t be held responsible for you catching a bullet between the eyes if your contract gets exposed. Besides, I’m only heading home from here anyway, and I don’t need the jet for that.” I hauled my hungover ass out of bed and pushed Sabine out of the way so I could pee.
“In that case, I probably don’t need to rush,” she replied. “Hey, did hottie-psycho ever reply to your message?”
I froze mid-pee. “What?”
A moment of silence met my question, and I could feel Sabine and Jude exchanging a look. My skin was prickling with dread, though, and I was in no mood for teasing. I quickly finished on the toilet and returned to the bedroom where I could glare at my friends.
“What message?” I demanded, hands on my hips.
Sabine wrinkled her nose, and Jude winced.
“Oh shit, you don’t remember? You drunk dialed Leon,” Jude informed me as she leaned forward to massage her scarred leg.
Cold sweat dripped down my spine, and I swallowed heavily. Vague, vodka-hazy memories flitted across my mind, confirming that I had indeed done the unthinkable. I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“I didn’t.” It was pure denial; I already knew I had. Shit. Had he replied? “Where’s my fucking phone?”
I started a frantic search around the couch while my friends watched me with far too much amusement all over their faces. Fuck. I needed new friends. Would Mo have let me do a dumbshit thing like that? Ugh. Probably yes, except it would have been a hundred times worse if I’d called Kai instead of Leon. Or would it? I had no idea. My brain hurt.
“I hate you both!” I shouted as my fingertips found my phone stuffed between the couch cushions. “Real friends would have stopped me!”
“Uh, pretty sure we tried,” Sabby replied on a laugh. “You literally shut yourself in the bathroom and locked the door so we couldn’t take your phone away.”
I cringed. Ugh. I had. Damn it.
My thumb swiped the screen, unlocking it, and I quickly located the message thread with Leon.
Fuuuuuuck.
“You two,” I gasped, shooting an accusing glare at Sabine and Jude, “are the worst friends ever!”
I scrolled the thread, reading my drunken message to Leon… and all his replies. Shit. Shiiiiit.
“What did he say?” Jude asked, grinning like an asshole. Ugh! Why did I drink so freaking much?
My response was to flip her my middle finger as I clicked the photo attachment on one of Leon’s messages. Then I needed to swallow hard. The teasing comments from my friends faded into static as I speed-read the rest of the messages and clicked through the numerous pictures he’d sent.
Then I swallowed hard and shut down my phone.
“I need to get home,” I told the girls, a little numb with shock. I needed to process, and I needed to not be in Jude’s home to do that.
Jude frowned, all traces of laughter gone. “What happened? Are you okay?”
I nodded quickly, my lips tight with worry. “Yeah. Yes, yeah, nothing to stress about. I think I have just overstayed my time here.” I tried to offer a smile, but neither one of my friends was buying it.
They both just stared at me for a moment, then Jude sighed and nodded, knowing full fucking well I wouldn’t talk unless I wanted to talk. And this? No, I definitely didn’t need to tell her about Leon’s messages. Or about the photo he’d sent, taken from the street outside Jude’s flat sometime last night while Sabine and I were dancing on her dining table.
“Alright. I think that’s officially the end of our fun weekend,” Sabby said with a sigh, giving me a sympathetic look. “You’ll call me if you need help, won’t you?”
I gave her a more genuine smile, and Jude scoffed.
“Danny never needs help, Sabby, you know that. Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?” She gave me a hard look, then shifted her gaze to Sabine. “Either one of you. I hate that I can’t help you if you need it.”
“Awww, Judy baby!” Sab exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug. “You keep us both sane! You help us with every text and every call.”
“Sabby’s right,” I agreed. “You’re our glue, Jude. Don’t ever underestimate how important you are in this trio. Without you…” I trailed off with a shrug.
Sabine snickered. “Without you, I’d actually believe I was a stripper, and Danny would be a crazy plant lady who can’t separate reality from plant-land in her head.”
“Dick,” I muttered, offering Sabine my middle finger, and she blew a kiss back at me.
Jude gave a resigned sigh. “I guess.”
Our sporadic catch-ups always ended like that, with either Sabby or I cagey and secretive about some contract or looming danger. But that was just our lives, and we were used to it, so we didn’t find it strange or suspicious. We just parted ways with tight hugs and promises to be in touch soon.
Sabine headed back to Shadow Grove on Carlos’s jet, and I flew home to Iceland by helicopter. I didn’t look at my phone again until I landed on my remote block of land on the rocky cliffs. Only then did I pull my phone out and look at Leon’s messages properly.
It all started with my drunken text.
3982: You disappoint me, Marx.
His reply had taken almost half an hour, within which time I must have dropped my phone between the couch cushions and totally forgotten about sending the message.
My insides twisted up in knots as I reread his reply.
6279: You’re drunk, DeLuna. That disappoints me.
I swallowed hard. If I’d seen that message last night, it would have been clear. Leon was watching me. Probably had been all week, the creep.
When I hadn’t responded, he’d sent more messages. Probably because he knew I would wake up with a pounding headache and read them all in the sober light of day.
6279: You said I would never see you again, but you were so wrong.
6279: I see you far more often than I should, but I can’t help myself. I’m addicted to the sight of you.
6279: Especially this one… this is my favorite.
That message was followed with a photo of me, stark naked and deeply asleep in Leon’s bed. The sheets were crumpled around me, not covering even an inch of skin. My legs were parted enough that the slick sheen of his cum was unmistakable on my pussy and coating my inner thigh.
It shouldn’t turn me on, knowing he’d taken photos of me like that… It shouldn’t, but it did.
He sent several more pictures after that, all from the same night when I slept so soundly in his lair, each with dirty little notes about why he loved each image. His musings on the soft pink of my tender flesh, of the way my nipples were still hard in my sleep, and how he’d battled not to fuck me right then while I was unconscious.
The whole thing was all made worse by the knowledge of what happened next. How he’d then decided to kill me, and I’d woken up to find his knife at my throat.
Knowing he’d taken these to look at later, to remember me when I was dead and gone, to revisit the next time he needed to jerk off… It was a little flattering. Even if it was completely unhinged.
I sat in the dormant helicopter and flicked through the images again, reading his commentary and growing more turned on by the second. Eventually, I caved and slipped a hand inside my jeans.
It was shockingly easy to make myself come, closing my eyes and imagining it was Leon’s fingers delving into my soaked cunt. I could practically hear his low, calm voice in my ear as I worked myself over, I could almost feel his heavy breath against my skin, and when I came, I could imagine his heavy, intense stare. The way he watched me was beyond intoxicating.
“Shit,” I exhaled when my shudders subsided, and I wiped my fingers off on my jeans. “Dammit, Leon.”