LXIII

                                    

                                          
N I C H O L A S 
                          
"I put you on top. I put you on top, I claimed you so proud, so openly. But when times were rough, when times were rough, I made sure I held you close to me."
                          
. . .
                          
Earlier that day



                          
"Alright, thank you for your service," I say into the phone, before hanging up. I throw my phone on my desk and exhale loudly.
                          
What the fuck am I doing now?
                          
Fallon wouldn't want me to do this. 
                          
But fuck, imagining the fear in her eyes or her unease drives me insane. Makes my fucking blood boil.
                          
And I get this need to destroy something.
                          
Cracking my knuckles, I stand up from behind my desk and put my jacket back on. My gaze falls on my phone, and on the opened messages between Fallon and me.
                          
And the pictures she sent me...
                          
For fucks sake. The instant hard-on I got while being in the middle of a conversation with one of my employees wasn't a joke.
                          
I'm never opening one of her messages again while talking to someone else. Fuck knows what she might've sent me.
                          
But as soon as I get home, she's going to take care of the issue she created. 
                          
On her knees. 
                          
But I've got to take care of another problem, first. 
                          
Heading out of the office, I nod at my receptionist and get in the elevator, pushing the button for the parking lot.
                          
I open the email of my private investigator and read all the information he's sent me the past hour. 
                          
Feeling the anger taking over me again, I decide it's best to just put my phone away and focusing on what matters now.
                          
As soon as I'm in my car, I type in the address on the GPS and get out of the parking lot as fast as I can.
                          
These past days with Fallon were bliss, and I want it for the rest of my life. I want to wake up to her every day and have her face the last thing I see before I go to sleep.
                          
But I just can't shake the memory of how she looked in that coffee shop. 
                          
I can't shake off the fear that was displayed in her eyes when she saw him. How quickly she put up her walls and distanced herself from everyone. 
                          
The fear was still there, even when she hadn't seen him for so long. She could tell me for the rest of my life how he's changed, I can't forget how she reacted to him.
                          
Because the fact remains; he traumatized her and abused her. 
                          
I had my private investigator look into him. Tyler's not a bad guy, has a good record and doesn't go around looking for trouble. 
                          
But that doesn't mean he's a good person in his private life. I know for a fact that every time he visits his girlfriend here in New York, he likes to frequent the bar a few streets away from her apartment. 
                          
So, it's not hard to locate him throughout the week, because he likes to spend some time drinking during the day.
                          
I park my car and get out, making my way towards the bar down the street. The bar is dimly lit when I enter, even though the sun is shining bright outside. 
                          
Since there aren't many people here already, I spot Tyler immediately by the counter, leaning his elbows on the dark wood and looking down into his glass.