Stained Protector by Celia Crown

Author:Celia Crown [Crown, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-17T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Levi

Emotions are such a troublesome thing.

Discarding Anya would get everything back in line. There would be no more sickeningly warm sensations in my body, no additional voices whispering depravity to confine her to the basement, and no more impulsive urges to open her legs.

That is, if I’m not holding onto this dream.

A fond smile tugs my cheeks when I reminisce about her soft lips. It’s a fading memory, leaving my lips tingling for more. The crass moment of her sister’s appearance resurfaces, and a miffed sigh rumbles in my chest.

There is no denying the want in her eyes, the unabashed gaze marking its territory while she’s short of calling me a trophy out loud. Well, she served a purpose. It brought out subtle possessiveness in Anya; her body tried to be innocuous when she curled herself to my side as the ringed hand unknowingly held mine.

A faint clink between rings resembles a keen chime among the chattering crowds.

All was well until it wasn’t. Now, I’m here with an impromptu plan. I hate spontaneity and unpredictable elements, especially with Davis.

I groan quietly as my fingers tug at the loose strands, smoothing my hair up for a better view of the lump on the dirt ground deep in the woods. I resist checking Anya’s location on my phone, mutely cursing the distance back home.

Time will help collect her thoughts. Whatever she chooses to do next, I’ll be there to guarantee she walks my pace.

“I need a massage.”

The culprit, who dragged me out of bed at two in the morning, plucks the long wig off his scalp. He wipes the coral lipstick on his sleeve, grimacing at the taste, and kicks away the wedge heels.

Davis pauses mid-hurl and changes trajectory to toss them into his backseat.

I lean on the hood of my car and cross my arms. Every cell wants to go home and sleep, but I have to stay awake to enjoy this buffoonery.

Davis rips off the clumpy fake lashes and rolls his dry eyes before pocketing the spider legs.

This is where he’s inconsistent; he’s lazy with police procedures and does paperwork last minute, but he’d go out of his way to apprehend criminals by any means necessary.

“It was so dark I could’ve been a yeti, and he wouldn’t have noticed,” he explains.

Why he thinks I care is beyond me.

I launch the camera app and zoom into Anya lying on the couch. She went back to her apartment for two days after requesting time off, which I granted her over text messages because she wouldn’t answer my calls.

She finds comfort under two large blankets, a cup of some hot drink between dainty fingers, and a movie to combat the silence. It’s either a boring movie or a tiring hour, her head bobbing as a sleepy pout rests on her lips.

“You’re pissed,” Davis notes as he lights a cigarette that he found from rummaging through the unconscious man’s pockets.

“She’s being…difficult.” I struggle to choose the phrasing since I’m new to these things. “It’s understandable.

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