Handled

Chapter Nineteen

I sipped my tenth coffee from across the street of the bar I was watching Sierra party in.

She was surrounded by at least five of her friends as they drank and flirted with the guys at the bar. 

They were all decked out in expensive dresses and enough jewelry to make a man go blind. 

My eyes swept the small street we were on, some people spilling outside the bar for a smoke or for a quieter conversation. 

But besides that, no one had caught my eye. 

No one all day, which had been a long motherfucking day. 

From all the shopping, to the brunches, to the midday drinks, to the miniature party at a friends place, to more shopping, and finally here at the bar. 

I wanted to make out with my pillow so bad. 

It was already ticking past 11:30 and it didn't look like they were anywhere near done with the night. 

I sighed, taking another large gulp of the luke warm coffee in my hand, my black jeans and tight black top was casual enough to make me look like I could be walking the streets bar hopping, but also helped me blend into the night. 

My phone dinged in my pocket, making me look down, and tug the small device out of my jeans. 

An unknown number. 

The same one that had been messaging me all day, along with a few quick calls. 

I shot an annoyed look at the small black car that was parked further down the street. 

Silos Kross was annoying the hell out of me. 

I knew that I was staring at a very different man when he'd stopped me from leaving his home today in a pair of black sweats and an athletic black top, with a hat pulled low on his head. 

He looked like a fucking fitness model, but besides that he had declared he was coming with me today. 

I had, of course, told him that wasn't necessary, and he'd just told me he was dealing with a lot at work, I didn't need a pair of extra hands to remove some freak stalkers head. 

He hadn't even looked slightly dissuaded. 

Which led to him following me around all day in his blacked out car that I didn't even know he had, watching me, watch Sierra. 

Every once in a while he'd call and tell me to pay attention because I might have been falling asleep during brunch, or gotten slightly distracted when someone had walked by with a plate of ribs, or when a man dressed in full black looking shady got too close to me. 

Other times I got texts. 

They ranged from 'be alert', and 'stop staring at food', to 'don't accept that drink'.

I blinked down at the phone. 

'You're drinking too much coffee' the text read.

'Am not'.

'You'll have to pee again'. 

Damnit all. He was right. 

About three hours ago I'd been in tears begging him to watch Sierra while I bullied a store manager into letting me use a bathroom. 

I rolled my eyes and quickly tossed my coffee cup into a trash bin, looking back at the gaggle of slightly drunk girls, trip their way out of the bar, obviously looking for another one. 

Sierra led the group, a large smile on her face as she linked arms and began trekking down the sidewalk. 

He materialized from the side of the bar, all dark clothing and a hood pulled over his head as he began immediately following the group of girls a few feet behind.