"Yes, sir," the investigator agreed. "I was counting on that myself, but he was either real damned lucky or he knew what he was doing because when he pulled out those monitors were sweeping over him and moving in other directions."
Luck wasn't something Chase believed in.
"I pulled into the underground parking when I followed you back, though." The investigator was still talking. "I left the car there and I'm watching from a shelter across the street. If it comes back around, I'll get an ID."
Chase wasn't betting on it returning. Whoever was tracking Kia knew what he was doing, but the state of her apartment suggested someone reaching the limit of his control. He would strike soon, and when he did, Chase wanted to make certain he was prepared.
He disconnected the call and hit Khalid's number.
"Yes, Chase?" Khalid answered the phone on the first ring.
"The Rutherford-Edgewood ball tonight. Will you be there?"
Khalid sighed. "Unfortunately, it became a requirement once Courtney married Ian. She's a great admirer of Jillian Edgewood. She would never forgive me if I didn't attend."
Courtney ran all their lives to a certain extent. She definitely had a habit of getting her way.
"I want to put a net around Kia there." He kept his voice low. "Whoever this is, they'll escalate fast. We'll need to be on our toes."
"Who else have you contacted?" Khalid asked.
"I've pulled in Daniel Conover as well as the two available investigators we have from the club. Cameron will help; the ladies will watch. If we keep her under wraps, keep her stalker from getting to her, then he'll show his hand. That's all we need, just a second to identify him."
"It takes much more than identification to kill a man, Chase," Khalid pointed out mildly.
"But all it takes is knowledge to make him wish he were dead," Chase snapped.
At that, Khalid chuckled. "I'll be there. We'll be watching Drew closely. There is little doubt in my mind that he is associated with this. And, as you say, you can make him wish he were dead." There was a thread of anger in Khalid's tone that had Chase pushing back a suspicion that had been hounding him since that first night he had shared Kia with the other man.
Shaking his head, Chase disconnected the call before shrugging off his jacket and the shoulder harness that held his weapon.
Tonight, weapons would have to be pared down. He was one of the few given permission to carry one inside the hotel and the ballroom. With several state senators, mega-stars, and lawmakers in attendance, bodyguards would be a requirement. Thankfully, Ian had managed to push Chase's permit to carry during that event through quickly.
And Khalid's bodyguard would be there as well, armed.
The thought of Khalid had Chase massaging the muscles of his neck as that dark, wicked need began to rise inside him. He knew what he needed. He knew as the emotions intensified inside him for Kia that this would happen. That just the two of them wouldn't be enough any longer.
Son of a bitch. His fists clenched. He couldn't get past it; hell, he didn't want to get past it. He wanted to see her, watch her take all the pleasure she could possibly take at one time, and to know he had given her the freedom to have it.
Sometimes he wondered if his enjoyment with a third would ever fully go away, and there were times he knew he didn't want it to. He enjoyed it. Like he enjoyed kissing her, tasting her, throwing her into cl**ax with his lips and tongue. It was a desire he craved. To watch her, to see her pleasure, to aid in it, and yet to keep his head clear enough to watch, to know how each touch affected her, how each touch pleasured her.
He wanted more of it. Not all the time, he was learning. And he had a feeling as he spent time with her, then it would ease until the periods between the need would be longer. But he couldn't imagine never seeing her pleasured again. Never seeing another man f**k her, yet knowing she belonged to him, her eyes on his, trusting him, taking the pleasure he was giving her.
But if having it meant not having Kia? Hell, he'd do without it. It was only a part of what he needed from her. Relationships meant compromise, he knew. He would compromise. If he had to.
"What did you order for dinner?" Kia was moving through the apartment, a brush in one hand, dressed in a soft cotton lounging set.
Those lounging sets were created to drive men insane, he decided. The loose, soft gray pants and matching top.
"Greasy cheeseburgers," he told her. "They'll be here soon."
"I should have guessed." She sat down on the couch and began to brush her hair slowly, working around the cut in her head as she tugged at the shoulder-length strands and winced painfully.
"Come here." He sat down beside her and took the brush.
"I can do it, Chase," she told him quietly, watching him with a wary light in her eyes.
"I can do it without hurting you."
He turned her, started at the bottom of the long, silky strands and began to work through the tangles the day had given her.
Not that there were many of them.
"I wasn't able to style it this morning," she sighed, as he felt her relax marginally.
Anger surged hot and deep inside him at the knowledge of how painful that cut must still be.
The doctor hadn't had to shave the area the attacker had sliced open. The wound was less than an inch long and had taken only a few stitches.
"I'll wash it for you when you bathe," he told her, his c**k howling in agony now.
"You don't have to do that." Her protest was mild, her voice soft, relaxed.
"I want to do it."
And he did. He wanted to care for her. He needed to care for her. That hunger struck inside him with dizzying force. Even the women he had lived with before, the need to care for them hadn't gone this deep. Not so deep that the slightest knowledge of their pain cut into him.
As he stroked the bristles of the brush through her hair, his heart clenched and something melted inside him. He'd never given much thought to the idea of a wife, a family. But as he sat with Kia, that thought began to form within his mind.
Kia, soft and round with their child. Maybe a little girl who looked like her mother, with long, soft hair that needed to be untangled gently. Or maybe a son. And Kia would be there, holding all of them.
He worked the brush higher into her hair as her head moved, shifting and allowing her hair to flow around her as he brushed it.