It’s not a question, it’s a fact. “That’s right.”
“How serious?”
“Deadly. If he catches her, she won’t be seen again.”
“No, you idiot, how serious are the two of you?”
I grimace as Cheryl catches my eye. Her gaze communicates a wealth of instruction, calming the erratic beat of my heart. “I want time to explore what she means to me and space to figure out if we are good together.” Truth.
William grunts in response. He is all for his men finding their emotional match and connection for the people under his care. Not to say we don’t have fun and enjoy our younger years experimenting, but William fosters a family approach, meaning if you bring a girl into the fold, you better be serious about your intentions. A pit forms in my stomach as ash coats my tongue. Why am I risking his wrath by lying about her? I tell myself it’s out of duty to Fox, a valuable ally I can’t burn bridges with, but I feel my fear surge at the very real danger we narrowly escaped in Chicago, and the voice in the back of my head screams in denial of the lies.
He stares me down for a beat. Two. Three. Four… then a wide smile breaks out across his face. “Then let’s go. I’m keen to meet the woman who has got you twisted in knots trying to figure out how to crack her shell and make her stay.”
“I think a little warning before she meets you is in order.”
William’s gaze narrows. “Nonsense. It’s important to catch her unaware. No preparation, Hunter. Unless, of course, you are hiding something?”
“Nope, nothing to hide,” I mutter as I send a prayer to whatever deity might be listening that Eleanor has enough social awareness to play along.
Chapter Eighteen
Eleanor
Don’t they know lace is expensive?
Charlie eyeballs me from his position on the couch as I dump my clothes in the washing machine. Like an idiot, I failed to bring anything clean apart from two pairs of panties, one of which is still tucked inside Hunter’s pocket. I raise a brow at the mutt as he lifts his head from his paws to keep a close eye on my movements. I’ve contemplated running at least six times in the last hour alone, but it’s not a bad thing to take a breath and figure out my next steps. Plus, I promised Honor and Fox I would at least try to stay here.
“Stay,” I say sternly.
Charlie makes some kind of grumbling noise at the instruction, but he doesn’t disobey me. I roll my shoulders, trying to release the tension having a dog in my space brings. It’s one fear I haven’t been able to conquer. My ear burns in memory of the vicious bite and the surgical repair that followed.
Striding into the laundry room, I drag my clothing off and stuff it inside the washing machine before searching thecupboards for detergent. Charlie blinks at my naked form as I finally find the powder and shove it inside the drum before turning the dial to mixed. The time flashes three hours and fifteen minutes. Good god, what is the machine doing? Taking each item down to the river and using a washboard to scrub the grime out? I now have zero clothing, apart from a single pair of panties, for the next three hours.
My mouth is drier than the Sahara Desert, so I make shooing motions to get Charlie out of the doorway and stroll into the kitchen to hunt for a glass. The cupboards are surprisingly full of a wide variety of cooking ingredients. Is Hunter a keen amateur chef, or is there a woman who visits regularly to make him food? The latter makes my stomach twist, forcing me to pause in the middle of the room. What is that? I glance down my body, furrowing my brow at the strange sensation. The junk food from the car journey is still making itself known. I might not cook, but I order a variety of healthy takeout, so the high fat is clearly taking its toll on my gastrointestinal system.
Finding a glass, I fill and guzzle three lots of water before spinning on my heel and heading through the apartment and into the closet. I can’t believe one person owns so many clothes. Hunter won’t care if I borrow one of his shirts. I grab the first button up shirt hanging next to the door and dump it on my bed next to the white lace panties and my laptop. I nod once, looking at the pristine pieces of fabric. It will suffice for a few hours. Besides, maybe Hunter will stay out long enough to never know I borrowed his clothing. I bite my lip, knowing how asinine that thought is. Seems statistically unlikely.
Ignoring the improbability of time, I root around in my assigned bedroom and find the bedside drawers empty. With a shrug, I tip half the contents of my secret bag in there, then tuck the rest in the next drawer down. I can sort them into appropriate piles later. Stuffing the now empty bag under thebed next to my empty suitcase, I grab my toiletries and head for the shared bathroom.
It’s luxurious, tiled in warm stone with recessed shelves that flicker with light as I walk inside the room. Hints of gold glimmer on the taps and in the shower. There’s a double sink, and I arrange my items on the left hand side since Hunter’s are on the right. He’s apparently an electric toothbrush kind of guy, and there’s a contact lens case next to it. How bad is his eyesight? Images of a glasses-wearing Hunter assault my mind. I clear my throat, backing away from the vanity. No. Not good. Stupid fucking snacks.
My gaze catches on the small orb in the corner of the room. A recognizable gadget, and one that strangely brings me comfort.
“Alexa, play rock music.”
The blue lights swirl and she gifts me with Shinedown’sI’ll Follow You Downas I step into the shower. The water hits my bare skin, and I suck in a quick breath at the cold before it’s replaced by a steady heat. I love that first burst; it wakes the senses and clears the mind, something I am in desperate need of.
Washing the last two days off my skin is cathartic. Christopher’s oily fingers. Jonathan’s sinister touch. I force it all to slide off my skin and disappear down the drain. It clings like the memories of the past, sunken into my flesh with Jonathan’s brutal brand of affection. My hand drifts over the scar on my hip, and my breath catches as fire burns across my stomach and down my leg as I allow myself a moment to feel. Here in the shower, I can release the emotion. The weak tears are washed away, so it’s safe to fall apart. This is the only time I mourn the childhood stolen from me. It’s where my rage consumes everything within me for the mother I lost at the cost of my freedom. I should’ve done more. We should’ve left sooner. I never should’ve questioned her.
I rebuild my walls, one sob at a time, until I have iced over my heart to continue with the vengeance I promised in blood. I bolster my mind, focusing on the devil walking our world, and renew my vow to rid the earth of his filth and send him back to where he belongs. My eyes shutter closed, my mouth mumbling words I’ve said thousands of times to a God I surprisingly still believe in. I kept my faith, because without Heaven there can be no Hell, and I have to believe Jonathan will suffer for an eternity. Anything less is a blessing he doesn’t deserve.
My thoughts flicker to my brother, and I process the changes in him. He’s harder. Colder. I can understand that. But his words threaten to undo my defenses once more. My flesh and blood, a man I share DNA with, he’s… evil.
“I’ve been a participant, a conspirator, a murderer, a rapist, a kidnapper, a trafficker. I am going to Hell, Eleanor. The last good deed I did was getting you out. Don’t let my, and our mother’s, sacrifice be in vain. You are free. At least, you were.”
I don’t doubt his words. To survive and become Jonathan’s right-hand man, he would have had to prove himself time and time again. People aren’t born evil, but circumstances collide to make them do evil things. It’s not an excuse. My brother is responsible for pain and misery in the world, and my rose-colored glasses came off long ago. I lean my face into the steaming spray, pushing my lungs to their limit. It does make it harder to swallow when our last two meetings involved him saving me. It tugs me in one direction, then another, and I do not know which side is correct.
Then there’s the doubt. The niggling feeling I am making a mistake by being here with Hunter. I work alone. That way, mistakes and failures are mine to own. Perhaps I have gotten too close. Too personal. A different perspective could help me see the missing connections I have been staring at night after night. Pulling my head back, I gasp in heaving breaths of the heavyair. I will stay. Only for a short time. A week, perhaps two. I’ll track Christopher and make sure he is tangled up in some cyber security crisis rather than focusing on the woman who got away. He might have single-minded determination when it comes to his toys, but men like him value money above all else. I need to divert his attention with a well-placed, terrifying yet ultimately harmless, virus. That can easily be solved within an afternoon, which means I have a plan for tomorrow.
