The navy walls are offset by a crisp white ceiling. The beige carpet is soft, barely even walked on, and the double bed has never been used. I decorated with blue tartan pillows and throws, because I know Ella loves the tartan look, and when I took a picture to show her the finished outcome, she’d sent back several excited emojis.
I only wish she could stay here.
“This is so pretty,” Monty says, gliding her fingertips across the covers. “Where’s the en suite?”
I smirk at her. “There’s only one bedroom with an en suite, and that’s mine. You get the main bathroom.”
“So … I have to walk across the hall to pee and shower?” She looks appalled. “Can’t I stay in your room, and you stay here?”
I scoff. “You’re unbelievable. No.” I hold my hand out. “Car keys.”
She narrows her eyes. “What are you going to do to my car?”
“I’m going to park it on the driveway and bring your suitcases inside. You do have suitcases, I presume?” Her shoulders dip slowly, and as she places the keys into my palm, her brows furrow. “Is that a problem?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
Her reaction has my alarm bells going off, so I crowd her a little. “Are you bringing something illegal into my home, Monty?”
“I’m not,” she says sweetly. “I swear, Chief.”
I point at her. “If you’re lying, you’re out on your ass.”
She beams in response.
Driving that electrical nightmare is Godawful, but I get it onto the driveway beside my truck. In the trunk are two large suitcases, and I lift them out, grunting at the weight of them.
If there’s a body in here, I’ll kill her myself.
The shower is running when I make it back upstairs, so I put her suitcases in the guest room. For a moment, I consider checking them but think better of it.
Her purse, however, is sitting on the bureau. It’s not open, but it is right there, and I should know who is staying in my house, shouldn’t I? The most I know about Monty is that she’s a murderer. Checking her stuff is just being fucking smart. I can still hear the shower water from the bathroom across the hall, so I unzip her purse.
Inside is neat. A small firearm in a leather holster, which I can’t blame her for. I insist Ella carries, too. Hair ties are held together by a small clip, and there’s a tube of red lipstick, and a bottle of perfume. Her wallet is tucked away, and I take it out.
Inside is a driver’s license with the name Kelsey Whitfield. It says she’s twenty-nine years old and resides in North Carolina. Definitely fake, but a good fake. She has around five hundred dollars in cash, credit cards in several different names.
And a photograph.
It’s dated, a little worn at the edges. It’s of two younggirls. Both are smiling broadly at the camera and are in school uniforms. One is clearly Monty. The other … her sister, perhaps?
“What are you doing?”
I don’t flinch at the sound of Monty’s voice. “Searching through your things.”
“Why?”
“Because your reaction from earlier makes me think you’re hiding something,” I face her, a little unprepared to see her fresh from the shower. Her hair is wet, body shining with water, and she’s using my towel. It clings to every part of her body, but I don’t allow myself to stare for too long. I show her the photograph. “Sister?”
She storms over and snatches it and her wallet, returning the photograph to its original place. “None of your bloody business. I reacted like that because no one has ever offered to carry my suitcases before unprompted. Not because I’m hiding anything.” She gets to her knees and starts unzipping her first suitcase.
I hadn’t considered that. It’s been drilled into me to be respectful, a gentleman, and I’ve always told Ella to expect the same when dating. It’s one of the few things I like about Gable. He protects her, fiercely, and on the few occasions we’ve been together, he’s always attentive, even if he doesn’t smile while doing it. He’s quietly caring. But I know not all men are like that.
Monty flings her suitcase open, and my eyes bulge.
It’s filled with weapons. Knives, daggers, blades of all kinds. She has zip ties, handcuffs, duct tape, latex gloves.
“Are you fucking serious, Monty?”
