The Pucking Wrong Number: Chapter 28


We were having our first argument.

Or maybe I was having my first argument.

Lincoln was being frustratingly calm about the whole thing.

I stared at the black American Express card he was holding out to me, my heart racing like a wild animal. I was already living with him, eating his food, taking up his space.

This card, it was like a loaded weapon in his hand.

I backed away from him, shaking my head frantically. ‘I can’t, Lincoln,’ I said, my voice cracking. ‘I can’t take that from you.’

He stared at me, his brow furrowed as he tried to understand my special brand of crazy in that moment.

I straightened up. “I don’t need anything right now. I have my own money. You’re already not letting me pay for rent—”

“I own the whole building. There is no rent,” he interrupted gently.

I brushed my hair away from my face, the room suddenly suffocating.

“I just want you to be able to get what you need, Monroe. I just want to take care of you. I feel like it’s my life’s purpose.”

I lifted my chin stubbornly. “I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“I don’t like the idea of you not having it with you while you’re flying to the game.”

I shifted, my gaze flicking away. That was another thing we needed to talk about. He wanted me to skip school and work for the next four days. The idea of doing that was literally giving me hives.

I didn’t get paid vacation time. So I’d be losing out on four full working days.

“Is this about your mom?” he asked carefully, and I stiffened. “I know your mom—”

“No, you don’t actually know anything about my mom. You can read all the background checks in the world, and you will still not ever know what my mom was like.”

He was staring down at me with so much heartfelt emotion, I wanted to cry.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, putting the card back in his wallet. “We’ll talk about this later.”

He pulled me against his chest, and guilt flowed through my veins like a poisonous river, searing and burning me from the inside out.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stroking my hair softly. I nodded into his shirt, still unable to look at him.

“Let’s get you to work, baby.”


I’d been off all day, not liking how quiet Monroe had been this morning when I dropped her off. She’d still responded to my texts, she’d still said thank you for lunch and my daily flower delivery…

But I could tell she was in her head. Stuck in whatever her mother had put her through.

Unlike what she thought…I actually did know a lot from her background check. She probably wasn’t even aware of all the child welfare reports there were from concerned teachers, or her mother’s arrest records for solicitation.

It said little for the child welfare system that she’d been allowed to stay. The reports had been…terrifying.

“Linc, are you ready for the road trip? It’s been a minute,” Peters said, yanking me from my thoughts as he stuffed an entire taco into his mouth.

I was at lunch with him and Ari, trying to distract myself from stalking Monroe at work. That fucker Kevin had literally smirked at me this morning when I’d brought her in.

He wouldn’t be smirking if he knew I’d eaten her pussy out for an hour right before she’d gotten there.

Before she got upset.

I should’ve seen it coming, should’ve known that my AmEx would be a trigger for her. I’d just been so wrapped up in how good the fucking weekend had gone.

The best fucking weekend of my existence.

I’d forgotten she wasn’t in the same place as me.

“He’s so fucked over his girl,” Ari commented, shaking his head in mock disgust.

I threw a tortilla chip at him and he smirked before picking it off his lap, dipping it in some salsa, and eating it.

Because my best friend had taste.

“Two games, and then the playoffs. I’m ready to get this shit started,” I responded, checking my phone in case she’d texted.

Peters whooped loudly, drawing the eyes of everyone in the restaurant. Luckily we came to this hole in the wall all the time, and they treated us like everyone else who came in.

“Monroe coming?” Ari asked mildly, but I could see the question in his gaze. Would I be able to concentrate if she didn’t?

“Yep,” I responded, taking a bite of my taco, even though Monroe still hadn’t answered the question.

She had to come.

How could she stand to be away from me for four days? I could barely breathe while she was at fucking work.

Did she want me to kill my teammates? Because it would probably happen. I’d probably break a few more ribs while I was at it, too.

I shifted, sighing in annoyance at the pain still there in my side. If I could just stay inside Monroe every second, I’d probably be pain free.

My ribs never bothered me there.

Ari and Peters shit-talked each other for another thirty minutes while I stuffed chips in my mouth like an emotional eater.

Peters groaned as we left, throwing a wave at Maria, the owner of the place. “Tacos always make me want a blowjob,” he commented as we walked to our cars.

Ari and I snickered. “I’m pretty sure you always want a blowjob,” I drawled.

“That reminds me, Linc…you’re looking awfully happy lately. Is dream girl as good of a fuck as you thought she’d be?” asked Ari innocently.

Once again, I found myself punching my best friend. But I aimed for his gut this time, not wanting to hurt his face for the ladies he’d be meeting up with in Boston on our road trip.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “I was just kidding.”

“Well, don’t,” I snapped.

Peters held up his hands, his eyes wide.

I knew I was acting crazy. Ari was going to die at this rate.

He straightened up. “What did I do this time? We always talk about girls like that.”

“Not her,” I muttered. “Never her.”

He shook his head and stared off, his smugness melting away, replaced by something that resembled desperation.

That certainly didn’t match the situation.

Not for the first time, I wondered about Ari’s past. He’d gone from the streets to my fancy prep school, and although a hockey scholarship explained how he’d got in…I wondered if he’d ever tell me about the years that came before.

I gave them both a chin lift, and Ari slapped my shoulder, letting me know we were good. I needed to buy him a car or something. To make up for being such a raging psycho lately.

A second later…I’d forgotten them both as I headed to finally pick up Monroe.

I watched that fucker Kevin through the glass door as he leaned in closer to her, his eyes raking over her body. She was surrounded by the flowers I sent her every day—she wasn’t hiding them anymore after I’d told her how I felt about that.

And he still hadn’t gotten the hint.

My knuckles whitened as my fists clenched, the heat of jealousy consuming me.

She was mine. Only mine.

I couldn’t take the thought of anyone else touching her.

She laughed at something he said, her long black hair swaying with the movement, but I could tell it was her fake laugh. Everything about her posture screamed that she was uncomfortable.

I tried to hold myself back. I really did. This was her place of work. It was important to her. Way more important than I could understand apparently, judging by how this morning had gone.

But the urge to stake my claim on her was growing stronger by the second.

When he reached out to smooth her hair away from her face…I finally fucking snapped.

I opened the door, loudly, and their attention snapped to me.

“Hey, dream girl,” I called to her, giving her my sexiest grin.

Her gaze immediately softened, into that look she only gave to me.

The one that always gave me hope she fucking loved me.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded, standing up and gathering her things.

“Want to bring some of the flowers home with us?” I asked innocently, wanting to make it clear to Kevin that she was actually living with me now.

My question hit its mark, because his face scrunched up in annoyance.

“Sure. Probably a good idea. It’s getting a little…crowded.” Monroe giggled, gathering two of the arrangements in her arms, completely unaware of my intent. She walked around the desk, giving me that brilliant, beautiful smile that caused me actual physical pain.

She turned to say goodbye to Kevin and another coworker, whose name I hadn’t bothered to remember, and I stepped up behind her, my hand coming to rest possessively on the small of her back. ‘Missed you,’ I murmured, my voice purposely low and seductive.

Monroe turned to glance up at me, her green eyes brightening, a flush hitting her pretty cheeks. ‘Me too.’ A shy smile spread across her lips.

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against hers, claiming her mouth in a possessive kiss. I could feel her melting into me, her body responding to my touch.

When we finally broke apart, I growled in her ear, gripping her ass so Kevin could see. ‘You’re mine, Monroe. Don’t ever forget that.’

Her eyes glimmered in response.

The drive home was quiet. She could tell I was in a mood, but I was sure she had no idea that my mind was literally racing with anger and jealousy.

I couldn’t let it go anymore. Not again. I knew what I had to do. She wouldn’t quit on her own, so I had to make it happen. She wasn’t going to work there another day.

I’d be put away for murder otherwise.

And we couldn’t have that.

I waited until Monroe was sound asleep before I left the penthouse, a smile on my lips the entire drive to the asshole’s house.

It was kind of fun being completely crazy.

Kevin Taylor lived in a nice neighborhood in Allen, in a modern two-story house with a sleek exterior of dark gray bricks and large glass windows.

I’m sure his wife enjoyed the place.

When she was there.

I’d found out from my PI that she was at a spa in New Braunfels with some girlfriends.

And Kevin was currently upstairs recovering from fucking her best friend, who’d just left a few minutes before.

I pounded on the heavy, dark wood door, and after a few minutes, a shirtless Kevin answered, a smirk forming on his face when he saw it was me.

‘Lincoln Daniels,” he drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?’ His tone was dripping with arrogance.

This man was a fucking idiot.

Without wasting a moment, I punched him in the face, and he stumbled backward into the gray entryway, falling to the polished concrete floor. I stepped inside calmly and slammed the door shut behind me.

‘I just wanted to have a friendly conversation.” A smirk played on my lips as he glared at me from the ground, his face a mess of blood and bruises.

I’d definitely broken his nose with that hit.

“Fuck you.”

My smile grew. I was sure I looked as demented as I felt. ‘I want to talk about how tomorrow is going to go.’

Kevin sneered at me. ‘If you’re worried about me stealing your girl, that’s your problem. Anyone would want a piece of that.’

Calling Monroe a “that” only made it worse for him.

I kicked him in the chest, grinning as I literally heard his rib crack.

He howled in pain.

I pulled out my phone and crouched down next to him, ignoring his whimpers. “Let’s see what I have here.”

A second later, a video of him fucking the wife of one of his Tres Medical partners started playing.

His face paled, the bright red of his blood standing out starkly against his skin.

“How did you get that?” he snarled.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter how I got it, right? It only matters that I have it. And if you don’t do exactly as I say, I’ll send it to your partner, and your wife.” I patted his cheek. ‘I don’t think either of them would be too happy about this.’

Kevin glared at me. ‘What do you want?”

“You’re going to fire Monroe. Tomorrow,” I said simply.

Kevin’s face contorted in confusion, his brows furrowing and his lips parting in disbelief as he struggled to comprehend what I’d just said. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for the punchline, I’m sure.

But he wouldn’t find it.

“Why would you want that? What kind of sick fuck are you?” Kevin finally spat.

I threw my head back and laughed. “An obsessed one.”

Kevin didn’t seem to find that funny. “And what brilliant reason have you come up with for why I’m firing her? She’s been late one time in two years,” he asked sarcastically.

“Just make up an excuse that she did some numbers wrong, or say there’s a check missing. Tell her instead of going to the police, you’re going to let her go.” I shrugged, not really caring as long as she’d be done with her job.

He stared at me blankly before slowly shaking his head. “You’re a sick fuck.”

I grinned. I didn’t care one bit about his opinion. My mind was already on what I’d be showing her and buying her in Boston on our trip over the next four days. My girl was about to have a lot more time on her hands. I’d already told her catering boss to stop calling, so other than a few more weeks of school before the summer, she’d be free.

I stood up and watched, detached, as he struggled to his feet, holding his ribs, drops of blood splashing to the floor from his still bleeding nose.

I turned to go and then remembered I’d forgotten something.

“And just in case you get any ideas…like telling her this was my idea, I have one more thing to…convince you.”

I pulled up another video on my phone. This one was of his wife’s brother sucking on Kevin’s dick like it was a popsicle. I grimaced. “The best friend’s one thing, dude…but her brother? Ouch. That’s a whole new level of messed up.” A low, amused chuckle escaped my lips as I watched the utter horror that painted his face at the sight of the video.

“Tomorrow,” I tossed over my shoulder as I finally strode out into the muggy night.

The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed from inside the house as I made my way to my car, a wicked satisfaction curling in my gut.

It was time to get back to my girl.

I’d never let her leave, I thought as I drove.

No matter what, I’d make her happy, even if it meant locking her up and waiting for fucking Stockholm Syndrome to take hold.

My thoughts were fucked, I knew that.

But that was what she’d done to me.

This feeling. It was all-consuming. I’d never experienced anything like it before.

From the instant our eyes locked, I knew she was mine.

And she’d always be mine.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


not work with dark mode