“Sorry about bringing the bag back up here; I didn’t want Justin or Tess or anyone else to see me doing a sweep in the dining room.” X taps the device against his palm in thought, as if he’s considering whether or not to say the thing he needed all of this privacy for in the first place. “I talked to Maxine today,” he finally adds, and my heart jumps. “She wants to come down here tomorrow and see you.”
“No!” I shout, that bouncing heart of mine getting stuck in my throat. “She cannot come here, not with Justin around like, in person now. He’s a freaking serial killer who cuts teenagers into pieces.”
“I know,” X agrees softly, playing with the bug detector some more. “I asked her not to, but she was insistent. She might very well just show up here. If she does, I’ll deal with her.”
I nod, even though the thought of spurning my sister at the gates to the Vanguard mansion makes me queasy inside. I need to distance myself from her and not just because Justin told me to. I don’t want him to get any ideas regarding Maxine. If she died, I would probably break into a million pieces. Nothing would ever be the same again.
I’d die to keep her safe, if I had to.
“Thank you,” I tell him, and he looks up, chewing that pretty lower lip all over again. We stare at each other, and it gets awkward as hell all of a sudden. I decide that reverting back to the business at hand is the best option to keep things from getting weird. “You will never believe what I just found,” I begin, and even though the change of subject is abrupt and unnatural, we both roll with it.
Because to do anything else would be to hurt Maxine.
And I won’t.
Not unless I absolutely have to.
Maxx and I spend several hours organizing my spreadsheet and making a list of places to check out. How, exactly, I’m going to get to any of them is beyond me, but we’ll figure it out. Eventually, my lids get so heavy that I start falling asleep and dropping my phone on my face.
“Alright, Kota, it’s time to get some sleep.” X takes the phone from me and puts it on the charging pad inside the nightstand drawer, even as I grumble protests at him.
“I’m sure Parrish is tired, too,” I murmur, but X flicks the lights off anyway.
“I’m sure he’s just fine in that department seeing as he has nothing better to do with his day. You, on the other hand, cannot find him if you collapse from exhaustion.” He retrieves the throw blanket from the floor and covers me up with it even as I groan in protest. But I know he’s right. I really do need to sleep. “I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.”
My eyes are already drifting shut. I barely hear him. I do, however, feel his warm, calloused hand brushing my hair back before he leaves. His touch makes me shudder, but I shove the feeling away and turn toward the wall. Within minutes, I’m out like a light.
Unfortunately, about two hours later, my phone buzzes from inside the nightstand drawer. Seeing as my Tess-phone is back on the mini-tripod atop my dresser, I snap out of a deep sleep knowing exactly which phone it is that’s just received a message.
I roll over, yanking the drawer open, even as I’m still blinking sleep from my eyes.
My stomach’s in knots, and my pulse is racing, my palms are sweaty. Being woken up in the middle of the night like this is never good. Even were the texter to be someone other than Justin, I’d be worried.
But it is, of course, Justin.
Princess, wake up.
That’s the first message. As I’m staring at the screen, another comes in.
Oh good, you’re up. That’s a relief. I wouldn’t have enjoyed coming over there to wake you myself.
My mouth twitches. I’m not sure if he’s telling the truth or if he has an agent to do it for him. Either way, he’s made it perfectly clear through his actions that getting access to this house, to this room in particular, is not an impossible feat. I imagine that even with the new cameras in all the common areas, the live monitoring of the feed, and the police officers and security guards that Tess hired prowling the property, that Justin could figure out a way to me.
I sit up with the phone in my hand, so tired that I could cry. Maxx was right: I really did need to sleep. I still need to sleep.
What do you want? I text back, even though I know that antagonizing the man is not a very smart idea.
Want? He queries back, probably staring at me through the phone on my camera. I frown at him, certain that he can see me. I had intended on giving you today and tomorrow off. It is, after all, Memorial Day. Besides that, you had a very busy afternoon.
