Grave steals the pillow from under Ev, cuddling it in my stead and ready to go back to sleep. “That wasn’t nice.”
Shrugging a single shoulder, I start to unwrap Everett’s bandage, mentally noting that he still hasn’t released his grip on my side, the heat of his palm searing through my shirt. “Never claimed to be.” My thighs clench reflexively as he shifts his hips slightly and I swallow.
What the fuck am I doing? Obviously I can’t trust my instincts, because I thought Grave was making a move with his dramatic display last night. Yet I’m practically dry humping Everett and he doesn’t even seem to care. Maybe he’s just starved for attention since everyone here is always writing him off and dismissing him. He likely only latched onto me because I gave him the time of day.
My phone rings on the end table, making me jump. Grave is already rolling over to grab it, frowning as he passes it over. Julian had Maverick give it to me on my second day here, and the only people that have the number are him and the seven guys living in the house.
Everett stiffens beneath me, and not in the fun way. Tension radiates off of him, only adding to my worry.
“Hello?”
Julian’s smooth voice answers easily. “Elysium. Care to join me in my office for breakfast?”
My heart starts sprinting with anxiety, more so when Everett’s fingers tighten on my waist and even Grave starts to sit up. Both seem uneasy, and they know the man far better than I do, so their mood is contagious.
“Um, of course. Be right there.”
He hangs up before I can and I frown, getting to my feet. I realize quickly that I can’t even change my clothes since I fell asleep in Grave’s room, and showing up in one of his shirts wouldn’t be the best look. Julian doesn’t strike me as the sort of man that likes to be kept waiting either, so no time to run back to my room or shower.
“I’ll walk you,” Ev offers, but I’m already shaking my head, pulling my hair into a ponytail and drawing in a few steadying breaths.
“That’s alright. If I can’t even walk to his office alone, he’s going to start thinking I’m useless. That happens, I’m fucked. Sooner I get this debt paid off the better, and I haven’t even started yet. Stay, rest your shoulder.” Everett frowns, and Grave, like any time silence stretches on too long, starts muttering to himself to combat it.
“I’m not lying in bed with this jackoff all day, I’ve got shit to do,” Ev declares, getting to his feet.
Shaking out my nerves, I head to the attached bathroom to relieve myself and rinse out my mouth. Smoothing down my rumpled t-shirt and buttoning my jeans, I glance in the mirror.
My bruises have pretty much faded, and most of the pain is gone in my ribs. I’m not exactly sure why, but looking at the trace amount of discoloration has me suddenly wanting to burst into tears. Maybe because as soon as they’re gone, the only proof I’ll have that any of it happened will be in my head. No one believed me when I tried to reach out for help, even with a broken arm and looking like something the cat dragged in.
If they refused to listen to me then, why would anyone believe stories without proof? All of my memories can be invalidated by someone refusing to acknowledge them, writing me off as crazy. And my existence can be snuffed out just as readily without anyone caring that I’m gone. I’m not sure why it even matters, but for some reason, it’s hitting me hard right now.
“Sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Everett asks, carefully tugging his shirt back on when I return to the bedroom.
Sighing, I stick to my guns. “How can anyone take me seriously if I can’t even walk the halls of my supposed home alone?”
Grave gets to his feet and starts limping towards the bathroom. I glance down at his leg in concern before blushing as I meet his waggling eyebrows. “Don’t mind me. Look all you like, love.”
He brushes his fingers over my arm on his way past, leaving me more confused by the minute. Just as I was beginning to convince myself that he’s only interested in having a friend that doesn’t constantly blow him off, he reverts back to openly flirting like, well, he wants a friend to blow him off.
“See you guys later,” I mumble awkwardly, using my summons as a perfect excuse to not have to dissect things this early in the morning.
The halls are empty, my footsteps reverberating down the hall like a horror film. Lights hum above me, and the muffled sound of the TV as I pass Caleb’s room breaks up the otherwise tense atmosphere.
I’m not alone. No one is chasing me. Heck, the only people I’ve seen in this place are the ones that live here, and they’ve been nothing but kind. Safer than any place I’ve been, so quit jumping at shadows, Elyse.
By the time I’m knocking on Julian’s steel door, I’m not dreading the meeting as much as before. The nerves snaking down my spine have me keyed up and jittery, and an ominous chill skates across my skin with the feeling of being watched, so my shoulders actually sag in relief when he tells me to come in. I shut the door a bit rougher than intended, leaving that unsettling feeling in the hallway behind me, Julian’s office an unexpected refuge.
He raises an eyebrow at me in question, and I sheepishly rub the back of my neck. “Sorry, sir.”
Smirking, he feeds off of my fear like it’s his favorite treat. “Now, Elysium, no need to be so nervous. You’re not in trouble, but there are a few things I wish to discuss.”
There are two plates on his desk, already piled with food. He gestures to the seat across from him, but my eyes flit over to the man standing on the far side of the room, his briefcase propped on a chair and his back to me. He’s in dress slacks and a pale, button up shirt, but it doesn’t give anything away beyond the fact that he carries a professional air of some sort.
Biting my lower lip, I slowly ease into my seat, knowing better than to ask. Julian strikes me as a man that doesn’t like to be questioned, but beyond that, adores toying with people. His reaction to how jumpy I was coming in here cements the fact that he feeds off of others’ unease.
Some men with power just love to lord it over others.
Waiting until he takes a bite of his eggs and gestures for me to start eating, I lift my fork, half expecting to find out in a few minutes that it’s poisoned and only he has the antidote. One he’d exchange for another five years of service, no doubt.
