I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

25

At noon we hit the mall. The Jasmine girl works today; she posted a before work selfie on her Facebook that Ryan kept ogling. The kid and I walk by happy shoppers and expensive store fronts. Local outlets that anyone can buy from. A common market. All my clothes are tailor made and imported from Dubai. I have to spend thousands on an item just to ease my suspicions of cheap materials. The only shop here that I would buy from would be Macy's...from lack of option.

I peer at women as I stroll the floors of a very clean mall. My eyes enjoy a show of fine asses jiggling with heels, their breast bouncing. My rock goes hard, willing me to recall a little someone. The chick I fucked...I should've got her name and her number.

The sound of her clapping ass plays in my ears...fuck; she ditched me too...which is even more of a challenge. Sexy. Next time I see her, that mouth better be ready for it. "The map says the store is up a level." I point upwards, guiding a clueless Ryan in the right direction. I swear he's a fucking puppy, god if he weren't cheap to keep, he'd be long gone.

"Oh." He laughs even though nothing is funny...or maybe I'm just a buzz kill. This kid has glazed doughnuts, and a vanilla milkshake in his sticky hands which he licks clean. "I have a plan," Ryan says as we ride the escalators, sucking his fingers. "Trust me."

"No, just be quiet, I'll handle it."

In the store, Forever 21, where trendy clothes, dresses, and shoes cover racks and shelves, a babe stands at the entrance with perfume samples ready. The girl eyes my causal Dior outfit, my diamond watch, and Kiton shoes with a literal cha-ching expression. "Hello, how can I help you?"

"We're looking for a Jasmine Rowe," I say, parting my lips and watching her attention race to them. She's a curvy little thing, a redhead.

"Hey." Ryan lifts his chin coolly.

The worker ignores him. "I could see if she's in...if you want me." The way she says "if you want me" is damn sure some reverse psychology method, the sexualizing of a seemingly simple gesture. Her teeth quickly tug at her bottom lip, but I catch it.

"Umm...we're looking for Jasmine, is she here?" Ryan's dick must be jerking, the desperation and urge to hump cuts through his tone.

"She's on stock duty right now."

"Alright, do you know when she'll finish up? It's just that we're looking for someone she works with; his name is Chris Johnson." I explain.

The redhead gives a joyful expression. "Oh, I know who that is." Her happy demeanor drops to worry. "Is something wrong? Is he okay?"

Before I can speak, Ryan opens his damn mouth. "No, not at all, he's missing. My brother is missing...well, my adopted brother, but that doesn't matter." He puts on a pouty face, milking the act. "We haven't seen him in a week, my father and I have been hanging flyers like crazy. Honestly, it seems so hopeless, we're trying to stay positive...but his phone goes straight to voicemail."

His roleplay wins sympathy from the worker, who hurries over to hug him. "I'm so sorry to hear that, oh my god!!"

"We need something to go on, maybe an address or phone number, he's a bit difficult and private when it comes to us. I guess due to us not being his real family, but we care about his safety and just want to know if he's breathing..." Ryan raises his brows at me and bites his lip before ending the embrace.

I squint at him, impressed, then put on a gloomy exterior to play along. "We need help locating him, please."

"I have a copy of his emergency contact."

I flash a relieved smile. "Thank you. I had it on my old phone, just don't know how to work all this technology. I'm from a simpler time."

"A pre-historic time." Ryan cracks, receiving amusement from the redhead, who's name tag reads Cindy.

We follow Cindy to a backroom, an office. She goes in, leaving the door ajar, and rummages through a desk drawer until she grabs a white envelope. "You're so nice." Ryan's sight shoots to multiple doors that line the hallway behind us. "Is there a chance we can still talk to Jasmine?"

"Sure, I can go get her for-"

"No, thank you." I cut her off. "We wouldn't want to take her from her work. This information is enough to help." I accept the folder from the hot girl.