Page 14 of Under His Control

We got a fifty percent split on the inheritance and company shares Mom left us. She could’ve easily helped Penelope herself instead of sending her my way.

“My sister was wrong. Why would I help someone who tried to send me to prison?”

Penelope sets down the plate, the fork clinking against the porcelain. She clasps her hands in her lap and stares at them as she speaks.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” She lifts her gaze to mine. “I’m sorry for everything. I know words aren’t enough but I mean them.”

The sincerity in her voice and her expression further aggravates me. Alyssa never showed a shred of remorse. I prefer that because it makes it easier to accept what she did. It was just her nature. A hammer hammers. A shovel shovels. A terrible person does terrible things.

Penelope showing genuine regret means it’s possible she isn’t like I viewed her all these years—a copy of her mother. I’m not willing to believe that because it’s salt in the wound if I do. If she’s not a terrible person, how could she do something so terrible to me?

“It’s Jacob to you. And you might mean those words but they’re meaningless to me.”

I stand. It’s time to call it a night. The sooner I go to bed, the sooner the morning comes, the sooner she’s gone. I point at the plate.

“Are you finished?”

She nods. “Thank you for the meal.”

Penelope reaches for the plate at the same time I bend to collect it. Our faces almost touch, her warmth radiating onto me. I catch the fading perfume of her body lotion and natural scent. A dormant feeling comes alive in my gut, heading south. I rear back and accidentally yank the plate from her grasp.

She looks up at me with wide, startled eyes that sparkle in the light. That sensation in my gut grows stronger. I like this viewpoint as I’m standing over her. I’d like it even better if she were lower, on her knees, those pretty lips apologizing for wronging me in more satisfying ways than with useless words.

What the fuck.

I’ve been by myself for too long. I’m not right in the head if disgusting thoughts about Penelope could enter my mind so easily.

Eager for distance from her, I snatch up the glass and stride to the kitchen, stuffing the dishes into the dishwasher. Penelope looks at me with apprehension when I leave the kitchen. I stare at the bruise at her forehead as I pass her on my way to my bedroom.

I take a detour to the bathroom to grab painkillers from the cabinet. I return and set them down on the coffee table with a rattle. She glances at the bottle and gives me a nervous smile.

“Thanks, but I already took a couple at the hospital.”

“What happened to your car after the accident?”

“It was towed. Officer Brent told me it’s at Charlie’s. Do you know where that is?”

“I do. Be up by eight so I can take you there before work.”

She bites her lips together. “That’s really nice of you but you don’t have to. I’ll use the rideshare app on my phone to get to the tow yard.”

“That isn’t a thing here.”

“I’ll call a taxi then.”

“The only company that serviced this area closed down last year.”

She makes an exasperated sound. “God. This town. Hotel and taxi out of service?”

Her frustration is valid. Wenora has scenic forests and lakes, but it isn’t accommodating to tourists.

“There’s a bus at least? I need a way back to the city.”

“Yes, there’s a bus service.” I start to turn away then pause. “The bathroom’s down the hall, first door on the left.”

She nods and I leave for my bedroom, locking the door behind me for the first time. I lie awake, unable to fall asleep even though I’m tired.

How can I when there’s something dangerous in my house, sitting on my couch, pretending to be harmless? What’s worse, the pretense is convincing.