Justified

Author: P Hana

Page 11

   

“He went home. He hasn’t even tried to contact her.”

“So why did he show up here?”

“I have my guy looking into his phone records. I want to find out how he knew Chloe was in the hospital. Someone had to have contacted him to give him that information.”

“For what purpose?”

“Sir, if I may,” Ricket speaks, and I turn to look at my old friend. “You’re very possessive of Ms. Kasters. Perhaps whomever did this believed you would do something rash.”

“Like what?”

“Perhaps leave, sir,” Ricket says.

Memories of my marriage come back to me. I never even asked my ex if she was having an affair—not that I needed to. But even if all of the evidence hadn’t been right there in front of me, I still wouldn’t have given her a chance to explain.

I have never been the most understanding person. Chloe hasn’t been in my life for long, so if someone were trying to make me believe she was playing me, was having a relationship with someone else, and didn’t understand the depth of emotions I feel for her, they may have thought they could make me believe them.

What they don’t know is I’m obsessed with her, and there is nothing anyone can do, including her, that would deter me from keeping her.

“How long will it take to get the phone records?”

“It will take a few days. Phone records are a little more difficult.”

“Let me know what you find out as soon as you have the information.”

“You know I will,” Bernard answers, patting my arm before heading towards the front door.

“Would you like me to do anything, sir?” Ricket inquires.

“No. Just have a good night. Tomorrow, I will need to go into the office for a few hours. I’ll call when I’m ready to leave,” I tell him, and he nods once before heading towards the front door.

Once I know they are gone, I head towards the bedroom to check on Chloe. There is a lot to think about, but I know that my men will be able to handle it.

Chapter 4

“Nolan!” Chloe yells, and I lean my head back to look at the ceiling before letting out a long breath.

She has been on a rampage since coming home a few hours ago, and I’m ready to spank her ass. This morning, I told her not to go to work, and I believed she agreed with me and was going to stay home. But it seems my beautiful girl has become hard of hearing, because an hour after I arrived at my office, I received a phone call from Bernard informing me that Chloe had been spotted leaving the building by one of his men, who had then proceeded to follow her, making sure she arrived at the bakery safely before posting up outside until I could meet him there.

As soon as I received this information, I ended my meeting early and met Ricket downstairs so I could pick Chloe up myself. Even if she didn’t care about her safety, I did, and there was no fucking way I was taking a chance with her being at a location that is completely open where, at any time, anyone could get to her.

After I arrived at the bakery, Chloe ran into the back kitchen. At that point, I should have known she wasn’t going to make it easy. It took ten minutes to corner her. I have to say that, even if she is tiny, she is fast. It didn’t end with me catching her; no, I ended up carrying her kicking and screaming out of the bakery and into the back of my car. I was surprised the police didn’t show up after the scene she’d caused. If it hadn’t been for her injuries, I would have spanked her ass for the stunt she’d pulled.

“Nolan!” she yells again.

This time, I hear her stomping down the hall. I sit back against the couch and wait to see what happens.

“I know you can hear me,” she huffs, coming to stand in front of me.

“It’s hard not to hear you when you’re yelling, Angel,” I mutter flatly, closing up my computer.

“Don’t ‘Angel’ me,” she growls, throwing her hands up in the air. “Where are my clothes?”

“In the closet,” I say slowly, wondering if she’s really lost it.

“No, they’re not,” she huffs, blowing a piece of hair out of her face.

“Angel.”

“Don’t freakin’ ‘Angel’ me! What? Did you take them so I wouldn’t have anything to wear or have a way to leave the house again unless I was willing to go naked?”

“Though that does sound like a win-win, no.”

“Well then, someone has stolen my clothes.” She throws up her hands again before lowering them to her hips.

“Chloe, you must really want a spanking. You have been doing things all day to provoke me.” I rub between my eyes and look up at her only after she has been quiet for far too long.

“I’m not lying. All of my clothes, everything of mine, is gone,” she whispers.

Seeing the panicked look on her face has me standing and heading to the bedroom and into the closet. As soon as I hit the bedroom, a familiar smell hits my nose, but it’s gone before I can place it. I storm to the closet and see that all of her hangers are empty. I open and close drawers, coming up with nothing. Everything is gone. My angel has a lot of clothes, and there is nothing left—not even a stray pair of panties.

I leave her standing in the closet and go to the bathroom where she keeps all her girly shit. It’s all gone as well. I search our home from top to bottom, but everything of hers is gone. There is not even a sign of her left. If she weren’t standing right in front of me, I would think she had disappeared. When I turn around, Chloe is standing in the middle of the kitchen with her hands covering her mouth. That’s when I realize what I must look like. I can tell that my face is red-hot with anger and my body has expanded. I have no idea who the fuck came into our home, but when I find out, they are going to fucking pay.

“Come here,” I demand.

She walks across the marble floors. As soon as she is within reach, I pick her up and carry her with me into the living room, where I sit down with her in my lap before pulling out my phone and calling Bernard.

“Shhhh, Angel,” I whisper to the top of her head and pull her firmly against me when I hear her sob.

“Boss?” Bernard answers.

“Get your ass up to my place now,” I order then hang up. “We’ll get you all new clothes,” I tell her, and she shakes her head, causing her face to slide against my shirt.

“Why would someone take my stuff?”

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” I say softly, kissing the top of her head.

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