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Nate leans into the window from the passenger side. “Good choice, baby.”
I stand. “We are all going for a ride. We need to do something normal.”
Brantley’s eyes catch Nate’s. “Yeah, because Hector has called another meet for Friday night.”
“What?” Nate shouts.
I freeze. “It’s not been a month—it’s only been days?”
Brantley nods, his eyes staying on Nate. “Which is why it’s interesting he’s called it, and he has asked for Tillie to be there.”
“Tillie will not be there,” Nate declares matter-of-factly.
“Tillie is right here, and Tillie is fine with being there…” I add, shutting the driver’s side door and making my way up the steps.
“Tillie is not fucking going!” Nate hollers from behind me.
I flip him off as I enter the house and start making my way down to the room of gloom, when Brantley stops me with his words.
“I’ve moved your room. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. You’re not a prisoner anymore, it was only until we sorted the Daemon thing out. We couldn’t risk you telling Madison about seeing her dead brother.”
I turn to face him. “I like being here.”
Brantley smiles. Smiles. Not smirks, not scowls. Smiles. Rows of the straightest white teeth against his tanned skin. “I know. You’re on this level opposite my dad’s office. Had the maid move your shit in there.”
I head down toward the door, thanking Brantley on the way. When I open the door, I’m instantly in love with the space. It has one large bay window that opens out to the back yard. The walls are white, and the bed linen one shade darker than the walls. I open one of the doors and I’m met with a bathroom. It’s about the same size as the one I had downstairs—no bath. The second door is a walk-in closet. My clothes already hanging carefully on the hangers. I wonder who his maid is? I wouldn’t put it past him to have that sweet innocent girl as his little slave, but even as the thought flashes through my head, I know deep down that that isn’t the case. The way he moved around her, how she composed herself faced with the devil. That wasn’t someone who has been on the receiving end of Brantley’s wrath. That was someone, possibly the only one, who had seen a side to Brantley no one had ever seen.
Or maybe I’m deranged.
Considering the latest events, I settle for the latter, grab some clothes and slip into the shower, enjoying the warm water crashing against my battered skin.
I change quickly, after lathering oils against myself and blow-drying my hair. I don’t bother to straighten it, rather letting the natural wave fall down my back. I’m slipping on my Jimmy Choos when the door opens.
Nate stands freshly showered and wearing light blue faded jeans, a Phillip Plein shirt, and his leather jacket that has a hood stitched into the collar.
I stuck to white skinny jeans, a black loose cotton T-shirt and threw on my red leather jacket—to match my car.
“I’m serious, Tillie. You can’t come on Friday.”
I’m tightening the final strap when I stand and reach for my phone that was charging. “I can, and I will. He asked me to attend.”
“I’ll cage you.”
“And I’ll break free.” I grin at him, latching my watch around my wrist and spraying my Valentino perfume over myself.
He steps into my room, instantly making it feel smaller. “It might get ugly.”
“I’ve seen ugly, Nate…” I murmur, bringing my hand to his cheek. “I killed ugly.”
His eyes search mine and he winces, stepping out of my touch. Shit. You idiot, Tillie. Stop touching what you can’t have.
“I hate that you took on that burden,” he answers, reaching for my hand.
I let him take it. “Rather me than Madison.”
“I’d rather me take it or Bishop. You two are uncontrollable.”
He leads me out and I reach for my debit card, sliding both that and my phone into my back pocket. I shut my door and we round it until we’re waiting for everyone at the bottom of the stairs.
There’s silence, the only sound coming from the ticking of an old grandfather clock in the foyer.
“Did you hear that?” I ask Nate.
“No?” He tilts his head, then the whispering happens again and his eyes snap up the stairs. “Yeah, I heard that.”
“This house is so creepy.”
Nate’s mouth kicks up in a smirk. “Creepy with a whole bunch of secrets. Right, Bran Bran?” Nate pushes his aviator glasses down over his eyes.
Brantley flips him off as he enters with everyone and we all slowly pile out.
Eli, Cash, and Jase are climbing into a Ford Raptor, and Hunter is sliding in with Brantley in his car.
Nate naturally goes to the passenger seat of my car and I climb in, inhaling the new car smell of freshly produced leather. The scent begins to mix with both mine and Nate’s scent. I push the button to start and the car purrs to life beneath me.
