Chapter 3

Marshall Brown

*****

Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

Numbers! They were all just a bunch of nonsensical, disorganized digits. I breathed out again, this time making a loud rasp.

"Fucking damn it," I snarled, jumping out of my chair.

My hands dragged through my hair, which was already very tousled. It seemed all I could do today was curse at my desktop and imagine her angelic face and all the expressions I wanted to paint on it. Her lips were so delicate and the cutest shade of pink. I wondered if she normally wore that chapstick. I wondered what it tasted like.

I audibly groaned at how uncomfortably my pants strained around my hardened dick. Clenching my jaw, I strolled over to the window and placed an open palm along its cool surface. I was never this frustrated. I didn't let things bother me. Because why should they? I couldn't give a flying fuck about what people thought or did. If someone else's actions impacted me, I dealt with them and moved on. I didn't get frustrated.

Maybe I should just kill her, I pondered. Then I wouldn't be pacing my office like a wild animal, salivating over her image. I would know she was six feet in the ground or miles down river somewhere. Something about her death unsettled me, though. Not even my parents' deaths triggered such a strong aversion and I had been the one to deliver the fatal blows.

She was just different. I had only met her for a handful of seconds but I could tell. She was oblivious to the eyes that followed her, stalking her like prey. She cared less if anyone noticed her. Her plain clothes did nothing to flatter the curves beneath them. She wore no makeup. She didn't care like most of them I knew and fucked.

Yet, she also cared too much. I watched her open the door for an old woman. Then I watched her help a man count his money. Her hands were gentle, her voice patient. She cared way more about some stranger than anyone else in the store did. The way her eyes slid over me was almost as high-inducing as an orgasm. I felt something in my stomach that I never had before. A fucking flutter or something stupid.

Then she just walked away. I was furious that she didn't want to climb into my truck. Of course, I didn't intend to take her back to wherever she came from. Because then I'd have to get her in my clutches again. Instead, I lost the chance to have her completely. I thought about her ass swaying in her tight jeans as she walked down the sidewalk, innocently oblivious to every male gaze on her.

I'd slice all their ducking throats. She was my angel. Mine from the moment she stepped into that store. She didn't know she signed away her freedom at that moment, but she did. Nothing would change that now. Once I found a fixation, I was as relentless as a pit bull.

Yes, I would have my angel. First, though, I had to find her again. My dumbass let her escape me, let her wander down the street beyond my view.

Not again.

Finally, I pulled myself from the window that overlooked the mountains. The glass was fogged from the warmth of my breath and hand. It made me quiver with greedy pants. The monster beneath this skin burned for her in a way that was never possible before.

It wasn't that I felt for her, per se.

I was incapable of such. These eyes had never shed a tear. These bones had never ached with grief or sadness. This heart never pounded with joy or panic. Every man knows fear but only I know the quiet of nothingness.

Inside me, I knew truly emptiness existed. I was content with that. I didn't need meaning in my life.

Blood and luxury and pleasure were more than enough.

My cock stiffened again. I wondered what my little angel was up to. I wondered if she was thinking of me, knowing she had at least once today. She was rattled by me, I could tell. If only she knew how thrilled that made me.

Her sweet floral perfume lingered my nostrils like a forbidden candy. I could hardly bridle my impatience and stop myself from returning to the place we met. I would track her down, now was not the time though.

I had an important meeting this evening at the airport and a few people who were waiting for my visit. Some would be ready for me, but most would not. The Vampire was known for dropping by at any hour of the night and snatching life from his victims like the grim reaper. They only wished I was the grim reaper while I bled them like animals and danced in their puddles.

Forcing myself to sit at the desk again, I removed a can of coffee from one of the drawers and guzzled the liquid down. My stomach burned, probably from not eating in hours, but I felt the caffeine surge through my bloodstream. I managed to put off most of my tantalizing thoughts and work through the ledgers and client engagement files for my accounting firm. 

I turned off my monitor at 6:30 and locked the door to my office. Gliding into the bedroom, I traded my shirt and trousers for my black baseball cap and black long-sleeve coveralls and boots. I slipped a pistol into the inside of the waist and a variety of knives elsewhere. A gun would also be my last resort. There was no rush in shooting something. It was so . . . impersonal.

I needed to see pain and fear in someone's eyes before I tore their world apart. Any other way was like killing a cow without butchering the meat. It ruined the purpose of the kill entirely.

After eating a quick bite of leftover pizza, I headed to the adjoining garage and got into my blacked out Suburban. I turned off my phone and started towards the regional airport in town. The 20 minute drive passed in silence while my thoughts rambled. Everything in me ached to turn around and find my angel. Each passing minute without me in full awareness of her existence made my nerves tighten and my blood pressure spike.

A very thin strand of self-control dragged me to the airport. As soon as I turned onto the tarmac, a Cessna touched down. I parked by my private hangar and called one of my men at the warehouse. While it rang, my eyes followed the small white aircraft roll towards me.

"Nuel," he answered calmly.

"It's me," I said. "Get the gates ready. They're taxiing over."

"Yes, sir."

I stepped out of the car and smoothed a hand through my hair. The plane stopped under the cover of the hangar. After a few moments, the door opened and a wiry white-haired man in a black tracksuit popped out. He waved at me.

"Come on, man! You're gonna love this."

Sighing, I stalked over to the place. Mason was one of the very few people I tolerated on a semi-regular basis. I didn't trust anyone and I certainly didn't like anyone, but he was generally tolerable.

Mason showed me the storage components in the back of the plane. I checked over the inventory for holes or leaks in the cellophane but the boxes looked fine. He knew I would go into a rage if anything was out of place or destroyed. I had little tolerance for error, especially when it came to business.

"Whatcha think?" he asked with a grin. "Notice the extra few ounces?"

I shot him a dark, warning look. "Lower your voice."

Sighing, he nodded and stepped back.

"Load it up," I ordered, stomping off.

While Mason loaded the boxes into coolers in my Suburban's trunk, I stood at the door of the hangar. I dialed Nuel again.

"Ensure everything is ready for my arrival," I said. "I don't have the patience to wait today. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. Everything is prepared. The trucks are waiting to be loaded."

I hung up, surveyed the tarmac once more, and returned to the plane. Mason closed the trunk door and turned towards me.

"Pleasure, as always," he said, extending a hand.

I nodded and walked to the driver door. Opening my phone, I sent his money into the offshore account he kept under his dead cousin's name. He climbed back into his plane and started the motors.

After Mason was in the air again, I pulled out of the airport and zipped towards the warehouse buildings I owned across town. They were primarily used to store wholesale weaponry sold in markets and stores across the country, but of course I had a special section for private clientele. 

The gates to the facility were closed when I turned down the service road. Snarling, I grabbed my phone and dialed Nuel. He was going to regret lying to me. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail.

Voicemail? What the fuck? I used my code to open the gates and sped through, calling the sorry cretin again. 

"Marshall! Mr Brown!" he yelled. "One of the shipping trucks drove through the building. It's getting shit on fire!"

"What?" I bellowed.

Gunfire rang in the background. My panicked gaze flew over the buildings. This time I noticed an odd yellow glow barely visible from this side. Gnashing my teeth, I altered course and sped towards the chaos.

When I rounded the building, I was greeted with the sight of cars bolting to and fro. Flames rose through a hole in the metal siding, half of a truck hanging out.

Shit! This was not what I needed right now. Fire would draw the fire department and the cops. Nuel and the guards were so going to fucking die after this.

I parked at the backside of the building and grabbed one of the guards running by, waving an assault rifle around.

"Get these boxes into 356," I snapped. "Stop for no one. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" He slung his gun over his shoulder and scooped up a few boxes.

I opened the backseat and pulled out the rifle I kept on the floorboard. Loading it, I stomped into the warehouse. Even from fifty yards away, I could feel the heat of the fire. It looked contained right now to just the truck. If the flames spread to any ammo, we'd be fucked. Several men were carrying buckets of water to douse the fire, others spraying it with fire extinguishers.

I grabbed one of the men with a bucket. "Where's the driver?"

"He ran for it! A few guys were chasing him but I don't know, boss. That's all I know."

My grip tightened on him. "Did you see it happen?"

A banner of fear crossed his eyes while he quickly shook his head. "No, sir. I was manning the gate."

"So then you let this psychopath into my facility?" I raged with a violent tug on his shirt.

"No!" he yelped. "I mean, yes! But he-he was the same driver we've had for weeks. He passed the security checks to get in!"

My body vibrated with a growl. I threw the man away and started back towards my car, dialing Nuel as I went.

"Where the fuck are you?" I snapped.

"At the south fence," he said. "We caught the driver. He ran all the way, thinking he could climb the fence. We're loading him up to bring back now."

The walls surrounding my warehouses were six-feet of chain link with double barbed, electric wiring. Then there were dozens of cameras monitoring every inch of the perimeter. Not a soul got in or out of these walls without me knowing.

Except somehow, this little asswipe did. This must have been a recent bribery or something because my employees were paid well to keep their mouths shut. He would have attacked earlier had been incentivized too. Someone was out there trying to sabotage me.

My hands clenched into fists. "Don't bring him back here," I said. "Confine him in my basement. The fire department and police will be here soon, so get him out of here. He'll be dealt with later."

I hung up and turned just in time to see red lights flashing around the corner. Pinching my nose, I walked over to my car. The trunk was emptied and the door was shut. I exhaled and propped my hands on the hips of my trousers.

I hated dealing with the authorities, but tonight I didn't have a choice.