Crashing Down Into Flames

Chapter 22

Chapter Song: Chokehold- Sleep Token

Monday- MIdnight

-Cole-
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She left with my mask without saying another word.

I keep thinking about the words she said and how she couldn't maintain eye contact with me for long- taking it away by staring at the dead man.

I don't give a shit if this man is dead already- he stole her attention and focus away from me eight times; maybe even more if she thought about him- even in death. I had his body taken care of by my men and August, but it seems it's taken August more time than I expected to take care of the body.

Judging by their facial expressions, my men are mad that I called them twice to clean up a mess in one day. The first was to sanitize the elevator in the Lockhart Media Company's building so my DNA wouldn't be found anywhere- in case some accidental spillage was made. The second was to clean up the bodily fluids of the dead man.

August may have taken the body, but that still left a mess. But, that's what I pay them for. If they're not working, then I have no use for them. Also, thanks to them, I have a new black mask on- since I gave mine to her.

So now, as I sit in the basement of August's house, waiting for Nicholas to pick up my phone call, again she clouds my mind like smoke from a fire.

Evangeline is right about one thing- I don't love her. It's why I didn't answer her when she asked me if I did. What I feel for her has nothing to do with the gentle caress of a lover or close to the sign of love. It's more.

It's an obsession. Possession. An addiction that I'd gladly smother myself in. She's the flames in my lungs, burning throughout my airways which I'd endure with pleasure.

She's nothing something that I want to treat with care or as if she's fragile. I want to wreck her, shatter her, destroy her until she's nothing but a pile of flesh at my knees again -and I will- just like she almost ruined my company.

I don't give a fuck what she says; I will have her loving me again- even if I have to make her. But it seems it won't be that difficult since she already can't resist me.

It's been four hours since I've seen or heard her face again. In these four hours, I still smell her peppermint perfume penetrating my skin.

"Why the fuck didn't he show his face?" I asked August with the irritation of the day and a certain woman on my mind.

The ringing of my phone, lying on the plastic table continues to be the only noise in the room.

August shrugs his shoulders and spins the whiskey in his glass with a bored look, "I don't know. All he said was he was busy and had something to do."

"Busy?! He's only been in New York for a couple of days. What the fuck could he-"

The doorbell rings. It's a loud ring that cuts me off and I stare at the small bell box that produced the noise on the wall.

"Don't worry, Evangeline will get it," He pulls out his phone, viewing it intensely.

"Good Evening, Gentlemen," Nicholas's deep grotesque voice finally answers on my ringing phone. He has a small Italian accent to his voice that's appeared over the decade. Like August, he has the type of deep voice that can be used to torture someone, and women swoon over it. Like I said, it's grotesque.