I’m not a fucking stalker, but when you’re as addicted to perfection in human form as I am, you have to take
certain measures.
It’s going to take a lot more than one little angel-faced meltdown to scare me away.
I know only too well that the scars we carry can sometimes flare up when we’re least expecting it. My own
scars are the reason I haven’t looked up in four years, after all. They’re the reason I’ve barely looked up my whole
life.
Until she walked into it. I see her tantrum as a good thing. It’s emotions she needs to work through to get to
the other side. And I plan on being the lifeline she needs to find her way out of whatever quicksand is still holding
her back.
I’ll do it as many times as it takes. I’ll pull her up, take her hand, dust her off and help her find her smile again.
The angel needs me. I’m her rock now. Her shoulder to cry on. Her emotion sponge. I’ll absorb her angst and
beam it back to her with love and comfort and hot sex. I’m not going anywhere she isn’t.
Tex mentioned she stayed with her friend Emma when she first interviewed for the job at IE. So I did some
research.
I got the information I needed. Of course I know where Emma Fontaine lives. I know she works at City
Publishing Company Ltd. as an assistant editor. I even how much she
makes. $54,000 dollars a year. What I’m wondering is how people survive off of that kind of income.
I know the names of the two other girls who live with Emma. Hannah Goldberg and Lauren Johnson. I found
Emma’s email address listed on the City Publishing website. Her phone number is listed on her Instagram profile.
The last time Tex ran from me I knew I had to take precautions. I’m so fucking in love with her she’s become
the sun to me, and I won’t risk losing her again. I’ll be groveling until the day I die if it takes that long to convince
her we’re meant for each other.
So I grab a cab and follow hers. Just to make sure she gets to where she needs to go safely. “Don’t lose that
cab in front of us.” I pull a couple of Benjamins off the roll of cash in my pocket and hand them to the driver.
“Make sure you don’t lose that cab.”
“Yes, sir.” Okay, so it wasn’t the smartest move to fire her in the heat of a moment. But when she threatens to
leave, she’s going to have to expect me to go fucking ballistic.
She was too fired up to listen to reason tonight. But I’ll get through to her. It’s what I plan on spending every
waking moment doing until she’s got a ring on her finger and is naked and knocked up in my bed, so I figure I’ll
convince her eventually.
So what if she’s got some hang-ups and issues. Who doesn’t? I’ll break through every barrier she’s put up.
Because she makes me crazy with lust and love and longing and it’s the only choice I have.
She’s mine now and until I can convince her of that I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s safe and well
taken care of. My Texan girl is not going to be wandering the streets of New York City in the middle of the night
without protection.
Her cab pulls up in front of Emma’s building and so does mine. I watch her buzz the intercom for Emma’s
apartment. I watch her get buzzed in, enter the front door and go into the elevator.“Wait here for a few minutes.”
“Yes, sir. Wife giving you some trouble, sir?” “You could say that.” I text Emma’s number.
Emma, it’s Cash Maddox here. Please don’t let Dusty know I’m texting you. I’m making a plan for tomorrow.
She’s ke eping her job. She’s also getting a promotion. And when she’s ready, a diamond ring. I hope you’ll help
me. Have her downstairs in front of your building at 9 am but don’t tell her why. I’ll make it very worth your
while. Making her wildly happy is the only thing I care about. ~CM
And make sure Dusty doesn’t leave your apartment tonight. If she does, text me immediately
I wait for the three dots and they pop up almost instantly.
Ok!