Bad Girl by Goode, Ella (chrysanthemum read aloud .txt) 📕

“Already done. Also, I’m upping security right now and lighting this place up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.”

“That’s good, but why’d you call me then?”

“I need Leila’s address.”

“Who?”

“The new girl. The temp. I need her address.”

There’s a prolonged silence followed by a cautious question. “May I know why?”

“Sure. I don’t want her to get knifed by whoever slashed my tires.” Headlights bounce in front of me, signaling the taxi’s arrival.

“I mean, thanks for worrying about the rest of us,” grumbles my assistant.

“You are so competent that I figured it would be insulting to suggest you needed protection from me.” Leila, on the other hand, will enjoy my extra attention regardless. She’s not getting hurt on my watch.

“That was a nice save. As for her address, the temporary agency doesn’t provide it.”

“I know you have it.” Connor is nothing if not meticulous.

“Fine. I’ll text it to you, but I did not get this by legal means so please don’t ask and don’t tell, for God’s sake.”

“Who am I going to tell?” I climb into the taxi and give him the address to Leila’s. It turns out to be one of those extended stay motels and not a great one at that. I walk in and rent a room.

The next morning, I get up early, find a nearby café, and grab some breakfast while keeping an eye on the front doors of the motel. When Leila finally emerges, I throw cash on the table and book it down the street. She veers away from the parking lot and down the sidewalk toward the corner. Once there, she pulls out her phone and checks something. A cab pulls up to the curb, and I start sprinting, only to calm down when the vehicle takes off and Leila is still on the street. It’s not until I’m closer that I realize she’s at a bus stop.

“Leila.”

She startles at the sound of my voice. “Mr. Holmes?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you here for?” A hand flies to her neck.

“To make sure you get to work.”

Her eyes widen. “D-did something happen?”

“Yeah. Last night someone slashed my tires.” I take hold of her arm.

“Are you blaming me?” Her voice is high-pitched, almost hysterical.

“Why would I blame you?” I hail a taxi and push her inside the back when one stops. “It’s dangerous out there so I came to escort you to the office personally.”

“If you have something to say to me, just say it,” she demands. Her hazel eyes look particularly gold right now, and they’re sparking with some kind of internal fire. God, she’s hot. I want to haul her into my lap and kiss her until she’s breathless and wet.

I force my eyes forward. “I’m saying it. You’re not listening. There’s someone running around slashing tires near the office, and we have to beef up security. You’re new, so I’m here to make sure you get to work safe and aren’t stabbed on the way in. That’d be bad for my business, and the temp agency would probably stop sending me people.”

“Do you know who did it?” she asks quietly.

“No, but I will by the end of the day and whoever is responsible is going to pay dearly.” I crack my knuckles. That person could’ve knifed Leila, so when I find them, they’re going down. “No mercy.”

Chapter Seven Leila

Is he fucking with me? He has to be. Why else would he be here picking me up? The girl he can’t even stand the look of. Still I’m not sure how to handle this. Am I going to walk into the building and get arrested?

If that was the case, wouldn't he have just sent the police to my room? Oh no. What if it’s one of those inside things? Where they take me to the basement and torture me? My mind races with all of the possibilities. Maybe slashing his tires wasn’t my best idea, but I can’t go back now. What’s done is done.

“Relax, Leila. I’ll protect you. It’s why I came to get you.” He puts his hand down on my thigh that I was bouncing. “I’ll take you home tonight as well. No need for the bus so late at night.”

That actually sounds promising. I must admit that he does sound concerned and sincere. Why offer me a ride home if he plans on taking me down to the torture basement? Then again, this could all be a mind game to mess with me, which is absolutely working.

“I’m sure it was some kids or something. My mom always said the city is full of crime.”

“She must not be too happy about you living here now then. I suspect she's not happy about you living in a hotel as well.” He’s right about that. If my mom were still alive, she would hate that I’m staying in that place. But there isn't anyone to look after me anymore. Warren made sure of that. That thought angers me and makes the nerves fall to the wayside.

“She’s dead so it doesn't matter.” I gaze out the window, willing the knot in my throat to go away. I will not cry in front of this man. His hand on my thigh tightens.

“I’m sorry to hear that. How about your father—”

“Dead,” I cut him off. The car grows silent.

“See. You need someone to look after you.” I push down the longing I have for that. I’m starved for affection. But I’m not here for any of that. Revenge is my motivation, I remind myself. No matter how handsome Warren is.

“I’ve been doing fine on my own.” I don’t need him up my ass making my job harder. “Besides, I’d hate for you to have to look at me.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” His hand comes to my chin, turning my face to make me look at him. I have to admit that the man is way better at this than me. If I didn’t already know what a ruthless man he was, I’d actually believe