Forever Bound

Someone Was In Here

Warren's POV...thirty minutes till midnight

The house is pitch dark. I can faintly hear everything below me, from the pounding music from the club, to the speeding of cars in the streets. The city lights from buildings just as tall as mine dance in my room, and it's enough for me to see as I take my jacket off and make my way through my room. While in the middle of taking off my jewelry, I get to the gift Dawson gave me.

Staring at it gives me a chilling feeling. Something hasn't felt right since I walked her to her door and waited to hear her lock it.

My brows furrow, I take the box out of the bag with her stupid mug. I call it stupid, but I set it temporarily on my night stand, away from the edge. I put the pin in the box and put it in the drawer.

My head falls in my hands. Sighing, annoyed with my thoughts, I run them through my hair.

I'm having a fucking daughter.

That's all I've been saying to myself since. Dawson hasn't stopped smiling. On the way to her apartment, she's been talking about decorating the nursery, talking about first and middle names-just planning everything out.

And the whole time I sat there and listened. I liked listening to her talk about the baby. First, it was so weird, almost overwhelming. But lately I've been enjoying her rambling. Even if it's not about what our lives revolve around.

I don't know what I will do as far as a room for our daughter. I have multiple properties in the city, only two or three are private and safe for a baby. The club is definitely a no, I do business meetings here too much, it's too exposed.

I fall back into the cold sheets and stare at the fan for a while.

My work phone vibrates and I take it out my pocket and hold it with both hands, in the air. It's unknown. I open it and a video is loads.

"What the fuck is this," I think out loud.

I press it and it takes up my whole screen. The quality is bad, I squint my eyes to see past the blurry pixels.

Large black boots walk across hardwood floors. They pass what looks like shoes- heels that were kicked off.

The sound quality kicks in and I hear a shower running. Now I haven't been through Dawson's house enough to know the small details of rooms that are her living room and kitchen. But I'd recognize the red box that was sent with her dress and shoes inside it. "Son of bitch."

I don't watch the rest of the video, I can't. I dial Danny, him and Levi are downstairs.

"What?" He grumbles through the phone with his regular attitude.

"I'm about to shoot you an address. They're in Dawson's fucking apartment," I try to come up with a plan while running downstairs, "fourth floor, room 415, get the guys out there. Surround the building. And have my damn car ready!"

"Alright. We're leaving now," he says calmly before hanging up. But Danny is always calm. He's the most nonchalant mother fucker you'd ever meet, and it pisses me off.

A loaded pistol with a silencer and magazine is already in the car for me. I catch the elevator down to the first floor, rolling up my sleeves and unbuttoning the first two buttons of my shirt as I suddenly began to feel hot.

I snatch my keys from the valet, get in the car and speed off. A ticket, I could care less about.

I get the gun from the glove compartment while dodging cars left and right. "Fuck, Dawson," I say even though she's not here, nor is it her fault. I'm not religious, but I hope and pray that she is okay when I get there.