~* Bad decisions make great stories *~
A Harry Styles dark romance that explores the intricacies of mental health, morality and sexual attraction. Enter a world of sin, opulence and crime.
*****
It started and ended with the wind.
She was a hurrican...
If he's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed"
Happiness is a Butterfly - Lana del Rey
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The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity and I've been forced to delegate jobs I usually do myself and prioritise my time strictly. Topher has been tirelessly and relentlessly combing through the intimate details of each and every one of my employees; making sure there are no more rats.
Eli has been working remotely, while watching Addy, focusing on increasing security; coming up with a new rotating roster that will make planning a security breach near impossible. If guards don't know where they will be posted each day, they can't easily betray us. Matt and I have spent most of our time attending back to back meetings and reinforcing alliances to ensure the entirety of Melbourne is alert and ready for anything.
The only moments of rest and privacy I allow myself are the long, lonely hours of the night I spend attempting to sleep on the new recliner lounge I purchased for the bedroom. Something in me refuses to sleep in one of the spare rooms - I'd never know if she woke up and needed me.
Broken, unfulfilling sleep and and an intensely frustrating case of blue-balls are unfortunate side-effects of my stubbornness. Lying in the dark, listening to her soft breathing is an unexpected and unusual form of torture. Without even trying she has invaded my private spaces and my every thought. It seems as though everything I do revolves around her. And somehow I don't hate it.
It's not that I am unhappy with my life - but I never realised how monotonous it had become until Addy came along and gave me purpose.
Up until this point in my life sex has simply been a pleasurable way to relieve tension - ironic that the lack of it is now the root cause of my physical distress. Sexual intimacy is not something I normally crave - I had believed I was above succumbing to my more base needs. How wrong I was. Now my nights are filled with restless longing; she's close enough to touch and yet beyond my reach.
Even if Addy would let me do every intimate, dirty thing my mind has imagined, she is still far too hurt right now. All because of me.
As a result of the hectic nature of the past week I've had no time to deal with Tink and Logan's incessant attempts to contact me about Addy. Other than a brief, tense conversation with Tink about her failure to notice Addy was not in her bed, I've not had the time or energy to speak to either of them.
I'm less than impressed that they've apparently resorted to ambushing me.
The closer I get the more obvious it becomes that neither is coping particularly well. Logan has guilt and sadness written all over his tired, sunken features and Tink's eyes are swollen and red from crying.
