Chapter 5: In Search of Answers

*BONNIE’S POV*

“Thanks for coming with me, Stells,” Bonnie said graciously as she and her friend stepped out of the car.

“Of course! How could I possibly let you go alone?” Stella commented with a smile. “You know I’m just as curious as you are when it comes to this ‘Wolf’ person.”

A few days had passed since Dr. Foster gave her the green flag to leave. Still feeling sheepish about how poorly she handled her being sick, Bonnie was happy to finally step outside for a bit of fresh air.

She held the card from the flower arrangement in her hand, having plugged the address into her GPS. Within a half hour, they found themselves nearly at the heart of the city.

Large skyscrapers surrounded them with few to little space in between. Dozens of cars filled the streets like toys all moving to the same rhythm. People traveled in small to medium sized clusters up and down the sidewalks, each going about their own lives.

Bonnie was not a fan of the city. With not a single tree or patch of grass to be seen for miles, it felt cold and dead. She harbored these feelings even as a child. She never felt like she was cut out for city life. It all seemed to move too quickly and without regard for other life around it.

“Here, I think it’s this way!” Stella shouted.

The two of them merged into a group of people and together made their way across the street. Even before reaching the other side, Bonnie could see the building. Like many of the others around, it was tall and had tinted windows reaching all the way up.

“Whoa,” Stella gaped.

Both of them took a moment before going inside. Stella caught sight of Bonnie’s worried expression.

“Hey, Bon? You okay?” she asked.

Bonnie took in a deep breath, not entirely knowing how she was feeling. Something felt off about this place. It was like the building was surrounded by a fog of precariousness that only she could see. She did not know, nor could she even imagine what lied in store for her beyond the front doors. Yet, at the same time, she felt her body being pulled forward.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Bonnie muttered under her breath.

***

*MARCUS’ POV*

‘I need to let her go,’ Marcus thought to himself desperately.

The massively built man leaned heavily against the shower wall, letting his head drop low to his chest. Wolfgang clamped his eyes shut and allowed the hot water from the shower head to melt away the tension that he’d been harboring inside of his muscles.

Days had gone by, and not a single word about Bonnie’s condition had ever reached back to him. The man was beyond restless. He possessed half a mind to get into his car and drive all the way back to that medi-center and demand to see her, or at least find out what the hell had become of her health.

Marcus still had a difficult time figuring out who he was truly mad at a good portion of the time: the clearly incompetent nurses at the health center who failed to keep him informed, Bonnie for allowing her sickness to progress to such an unsafe level, or merely himself for ever having gotten involved in the first place.

‘I have to let her go,” he repeated.

His dark hair clung to his neck and shoulders while his mind swarmed with thoughts of the young model. For the past forty-eight hours, Marcus was locked in a constant state of tug-of-war with himself. Part of him was in the process of building up his mental walls to shut Bonnie out of his thoughts. Whereas the other part of him was drowning in the fantasy that was simply ‘her’.

The day he had brought Bonnie to the medi-center should have been the end of it. But that night, Marcus tossed and turned in his bed, wide awake and completely at the mercy of the angelic featured girl who left him stiff between his legs. He felt like a randy teenager with a crush on a half-naked woman whose body was plastered all over a poster.

He’d dragged himself from his bed and flipped on the shower. Not even waiting for the water to heat up, Marcus stepped under the spray and took himself in his hand. It didn't take long for him to chase his release when all that filled his head were images of Bonnie modeling last summer’s swimsuit line.

Nearly every angle of Bonnie was burned into the walls of his mind. He’d studied her photos for hours, wondering where her weak spots were located. Every person was different, but it haunted him to no end to know about hers.

Was she sensitive below her ears? What about behind her knees? Did she have any secret kinks, any mindless fantasies that kept her wide awake all night?

For someone with such a small frame, Bonnie owned a pair of the most perfectly shaped breasts that balanced out the width of her delicious, ample hips. It was no surprise why she worked as a model. To think the young woman walked around in the body of a Greek goddess had Marcus wanting to worship her day and night.

He remembered the beautiful sounds she made while pressed up against him. Granted, she wasn’t feeling her best and they were not moans of pleasure but of sheer misery, there was a fine line when it came to differentiating certain noises. Wolfgang had a strong feeling that Bonnie was someone who’d be verbal in the bedroom.

“F*cking hell!” Marcus hissed. His cock jerked in attention. Apparently these thoughts were enough to cause his member to harden and seek attention once more.

Jesus Christ. The man was becoming a slave to his own devices. Marcus hissed and groaned. He took himself in his hand and stroked from the base all the way to the tip.

Again and again. He closed his eyes and let his mind fill with images of Bonnie. He ran his tongue all along his bottom lip and reminisced the feeling of her tucked closely against him. He imagined her screaming out his name over and over while thrusting into her. Hearing her gasps echoing in his head had him practically dripping pre-come down his hand.

He stroked himself to the point of no return, but what truly sent him over the edge was imagining Bonnie’s tortured, heavenly expression of when her orgasm would overcome her. Marcus squeezed his eyes shut and growled as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him. He groaned her name and silently wished that she were inside the shower with him.

As his pleasure subsided, he curled his hand into a tight fist and slammed it hard against the wall in front of him. Marcus cursed violently under his breath, despising himself for not taking better control.

He was supposed to be getting over this pathetic infatuation, and instead, his own body was set on betraying him at every turn.

Marcus exited the shower and hastily dried himself off. He threw on a pair of black pants and a dark gray dress shirt. By the time he left his private rooms to enter his office, he found Trixie patiently waiting for him.

The woman wore a look of pure indifference on her face that told Wolfgang one of two things. Either nothing spectacular was going on, or sh*t was about to hit the fan. He rolled his eyes regardless of the outcome and chose to simply ‘rip off the band-aid’ and face the truth.

“What is it, Trix?” he asked sharply.

A daring smirk curved the corner of her mouth while her eyebrow arched upwards in contemplation.

“Well, I have bad news and...terrifyingly unexpected news,” she told him.

Marcus narrowed his eyes on her and silently prompted her to speak. Trixie got up from where she was sitting and moved closer while Wolfgang rounded his desk to check his phone.

“Word has broken out that Julius is back in the country,” she started.

His eyes remained calmly on his phone screen, uninterested in the possible news that could be circulating about his useless cousin. However, not everyone could master such a tranquil disposition when talking about Julius Princeton.

The man was a few cards short of a full deck and chose to live his life for the earthly thrills rather than take responsibility as being the sole heir to the Princeton family.

The man was trouble. A major-league pain in the ass, who rolled through life based on his looks and deceiving nature. Marcus did not have time to worry, nor deal with such a nuisance.

“Julius can drown in a puddle of his own blood for all I care,” he muttered dryly. “What else?”

He noticed Trixie’s tension starting to lessen. She stuffed her hands inside the pockets of her leather jacket and tilted her head.

“So about the Renolds girl—”

This time, Marcus snapped his head up from his phone and glared daggers into his friend. He tossed the tech device on his desk and waved his hand in the air.

“No. I don’t want to know,” he said firmly. “I do not care.”

Her expression melted into doubtful amusement.

“Really?” she questioned suspiciously. “Two days ago you had me pulling this girl’s entire life out of the shadows. And now, all of sudden, you don’t care anymore?”

“Exactly,” Marcus replied flatly. He sat down at his desk and rested his chin over his folded hands. “Not that I need to explain my thoughts to you, or anyone for that matter, but I lost interest.”

Not many people could detect when someone like Wolfgang was lying. Trixie was not one of them. She pursed her lips and slowly nodded her head.

“Mmm, okay. Well, apparently the same cannot be said for Miss Renolds, I’m afraid,” she claimed, feigning innocence.

His brows pulled together. He felt blood pressuring rising by the second.

“Trix...” His tone grew menacing to the point where even she took a half step back.

“Bonnie Renolds is waiting downstairs in the front lounge,” she told him hastily.

Marcus’ heart crashed against his rib cage. For a moment he thought he had misheard her. Bonnie Renolds was actually inside of The Mad House? How did she even know where to find this place, let alone him?

Without saying a word, he stood up from his desk and strode towards the door. He felt his heart climbing higher and higher inside of his throat the closer he got. In just a few moments he would see her again. This time fully awake and functional. Christ, it was as if he were a child on their birthday.

The excitement trampled what little defense he tried building up in his mind. The notion of letting her go was just not plausible. Marcus would meet her. He would find out every little detail and secret she concealed. Only now, he would hear it coming from her.

There was so much more to Bonnie Renolds—her pictures were proof enough of that. And Marcus Wolfgang was going to make it his personal assignment to uncover the ‘real’ person who posed in front of the camera.