Grim

43

I filled Azias in on the final detail that was different in the reports of the night my father died.

"You sure you didn't see anything useful about the guy that killed him?" Azias asked for the umpteenth time.

While shaking my head, I repeated, "He was well masked up. Had he worn glasses, I wouldn't have known that he was black. That's literally all I know about his identity."

"How did he speak?" Azias asked me.

I frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Like was he professional-sounding— military trained or something along that line?" he asked.

I shrugged, "He just reminded me of a hood nigga, to be honest. I hadn't even thought that the hit against my father was professionally organized until I was kidnapped and told to spy on you!"

"He had an accent?" Azias asked. "I'm just trying to build a portfolio— anything that might help me tie everyone back to the Boss."

I nodded, "Brooklyn accent for sure. Not nearly as cute as yours though..."

Azias eyed me while biting into his bottom lip, and I chuckled at how easy it was for me to get him turned on.

"We should focus," I giggled, although I was the one that had teased him.

"Hmm," he nodded. "You said you were blindfolded and taken to a car that drove you to another car?"

I confirmed, "Yes."

"How far was the ride?"

"From the first car to the second?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Um..." I thought to myself. "Maybe like 45 minutes."

Azias then asked, "Anything you remember about your transfer from the first to the second car?"

"Like?"

"Any sounds you heard? A change in weather? A scent. Anything your other senses would have picked up on to make up for your lost of vision," he clarified.

I shrugged, "I remember it being cold as fuck, but it was already cold before the transfer. I was in my pjs, so that observation might be a bit flawed."

"What were you wearing?" he asked.

"Satin shorts and it's matching spaghetti strap top," I answered.

"Color?"

I frowned, "What color my pajamas were?" He gave a nod as he slowly licked his bottom lip. I had no idea what the color of my pjs had to do with what happened to me that night, but I found myself answering, "Red sangria."

"Loose fitted?"

"No."

"Damn."

"What?"

"That shit was probably hugging on to your ass for dear life..." he said as he started day dreaming about how my pajamas fit me.

I giggled, "I thought we were focusing..."

"I never agreed to that," he smiled, his bottom lip wet from licking it before his response. His dimples were out as he watched me with lust clear in his eyes.

I could feel myself getting heated from his attention, so I shyly looked away.

There was definitely some sexual tension being built up between Azias and me, but neither one of us were giving in to it for the sake of taking this slow. Even at dinner, I found myself getting warm below from the stares Azias would give me. I even fantasized about him putting me on that fancy table and making me scream his name that entire night.