Under Control by Em Petrova

you have my number from that group message that time.”
    “Yes, I do. Take care, Jayla. Come back whenever you like!” She fluttered her fingers and moved to take another order. Jayla fled the shop as fast as she could go without looking like a wild woman. She burned to run like hell.
    Once she was outside, she swiped her hair out of her eyes. In her years investigating insurance fraud, she’d never used her acting skills this much. It sickened her that she even had the gift of lying, but she wasn’t going to question it now. She knew enough to head to Blaine’s apartment with confidence.
    Reaching into her purse, her fingers brushed her cell, but she searched for another object. Her fingers rested on the cool metal tool, a trickle of her unease left her. When she broke into Blaine’s house, she wouldn’t be facing down the man who’d tried to kill her.
    She could search his house with all the calm she didn’t feel. When she texted the guys later—much later—hopefully she’d have some info they needed to wrap up this case.
    Instead of hailing another cab, she walked several blocks to Blaine’s apartment building. An ocean breeze cooled the sweat on the back of her neck and soothed her with the salty scents. After all of this uproar eased, she’d like to go and look at the waves. Maybe walk on the sand and get an ice cream from the stall near the pier.
    Maybe Gabriel and Joey would come with her.
    She shook herself. Whatever was going on between them, it wasn’t a lasting thing. She’d been scared, vulnerable, in trouble…and they’d stepped up and given her what she needed to get through the rough patch.
    Plus a lot of orgasms.
    Her body tingled at the memory of their lips on her. When they kissed her, she had no idea whose scorching mouth was whose. They worked so damn well together. How often did they take in a spare female?
    A woman was leaving Blaine’s building, and Jayla slipped into the cracked door after her. Heart racing, she took the stairs fast. What blind luck. She hadn’t thought about getting past a security door, only about how to force Blaine’s lock.
    Outside the building she spotted the police cruiser. How was she slipping into Blaine’s place without them seeing her and wondering what she was up to?
    As she cast a glance around, she spotted an empty baby stroller parked outside a drugstore. She glanced inside, double-checking it really was vacant. Finding it so, she casually passed it and gave it a push—in the direction of the parked cars.
    Someone screamed. The officer watching the apartment building jumped out of his cruiser and started running for the stroller. Jayla slipped into the building, heart jackhammering her chest wall.
    Once she reached his apartment, she stared at the numbers and strained to hear any movement from within. She heard nothing. A few doors down, someone played music. Other than that, the floor was quiet.
    Here was the part she was unfamiliar with. The insurance company didn’t teach her to pick locks. She’d bent her nail file and tried it out a few times on the lock of the guest bedroom back at the guys’ house. Would it work the same on Blaine’s?
    She gripped the bent file and fitted it to the lock, carefully concealing her movements by holding her big purse at a certain angle. She felt the tip catch on something metal inside the lock. A few more flicks and she felt that click that had thrilled her when picking the guest room lock.
    A stuttering breath left her, and she steeled herself to open the door. Holding the pick in her fist in case she needed to gouge out Blaine’s eyes, she entered his home. This is called breaking and entering. It didn’t feel that way, though. She felt as if she were going after justice—on her terms.
    She looked around, listening hard. Not a sound came from within. She searched the perimeter of the room for signs of a security camera though if Blaine had one, he’d concealed it well.
    She had no idea what she was