His Vanilla Girl | ✔

Chapter Eighteen

Sylvester stared at the man approaching him from the other direction. He stopped in front of the girls' apartment door as well. They eyed each other up and down as though they were gauging whether or not they could take each other in a fight. 

“Who are you?” the man asked him. He had short curly light brown hair and was about the same height as Sylvester, almost matching builds, but the guy was slightly more muscular.

“I’m Sylvester. You?”

“Oh I know about you,” the guy said, wagging his finger at him. “I was there when the cops told us about your attack.”

Recognition dawned on Sylvester. “You’re the buffoon, eh?”

One side of the guy’s mouth curled into a dry grin as he ran his hand through his hair. “Yep. I was hoping to talk with Becky, but I’m guessing they aren’t home?”

Sylvester shook his head, his grip tightening on his phone. “It would appear that our lovely ladies are out with other men as we speak.” 

He turned his phone around and showed Nathan the text message that he just got, and the picture that was sent along with it, showing Maria leaning over the pool table, her red dress riding dangerously high. One of the men in the photo was ogling her ass and it infuriated him. Her butt was his to ogle.

“I take it you’re in the doghouse, too?” Nathan asked.

“I had a surprise visit by an ex just before Maria arrived at my house, and that didn’t go over too well. Come on. Let’s get our asses down there before they get eaten for dinner.”

“Lead the way.”

The two of them walked down the hall to the stairs and Sylvester shoved open the door to the stairwell. “I swear I’m gonna handcuff that girl to a bed until she listens to reason.”

Nathan chuckled. “Does that ever work?”

“I’m about to find out. I’ve got a spare set if you wanna try.”

“I just might take you up on that offer,” the guy said as he traipsed down the stairs beside him. “Becky has it in her head that since I won’t marry her, I don’t love her.”

Sylvester rolled his eyes. “Women!”

He couldn’t blame the guy for not wanting to get married, marriage wasn’t on his agenda either. The BDSM contract was as close to a marriage contract as he wanted to get. A marriage contract had no out. It was for life or, at least, it was supposed to be.

Once the men stepped outside, Sylvester looked at Nathan. “You got a car?”

“Ya, you?”

“No. I don’t wanna drive until my vision clears up a little more.”

His foggy vision was always worse in the morning when the sun started to come up and tapered off a little during the day, but not enough for his liking.

“Did the cops ever find out who attacked you?”

“Not yet.”

“That has to be annoying. With all the technology out there these days, how can they still not find someone?”

Sylvester ducked inside the man’s car and did up his seatbelt as Nathan climbed in the other side. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

No one was going to get the drop on him again though. He’d installed a camera just at the top of the stairs leading to his loft and every blind spot that wasn’t covered before. If anyone came back, he’d be ready for them. The system was set to send his phone an alarm if anyone so much as came near his loft door. And the only other entrance was through the store, back in the small warehouse. No one knew of that one, save Julie.