Page 27 of Promise of Punishment

“I tripped over a bag. It’s no big deal; I just hope it doesn’t bruise. Does it look like it will? I really want to make a good impression here this weekend.” I need to. “I can’t do that with a black eye.”

“It’s a little puffy and red, and your eye is bloodshot, but we can fix it with makeup and Visine. Plus, you’ll be wearing a mask while you work so no one will notice anything.” She brushes my long hair behind my shoulder. “No one will notice. I promise.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to do it myself, in the slim chance it bruises. I can’t show up at the Ashfords with a black eye. With Wes there, things have been… problematic.” I told her I saw him but didn’t confess I caught him jerking off in the shower. I’m so mad at myself for watching a man I hate, and even more mad that I didn’t have it in me to quit that day. No matter how badly I wanted to, I need to see if I can get a job here before resigning from the Ashfords’ household.

So far, Wes hasn’t told anyone about what happened either, and I haven’t seen him since. Maybe he didn’t recognize it was me.

“Who is causing problems?” she asks, confused.

“Garden guy. Bear.” She nods in understanding, and I go on. “He goes by Wes, apparently.” Haven was talking to another staff member who said his name is Wes and kept referring to him as that. Maybe she doesn’t know it’s Wesley, or she overheard Mr. Ashford and his half-brother calling him Wes during the bruncheon, and it’s his nickname. She knows more than I do, having served them that day, and she’s worked for the family for almost a year. “He never gave me his name when I found him in the garden, remember? I Googled him after I learned who I saved, but it only showed his formal name.”

It was six years ago when I told her what happened after we returned to the US. She knows what he did and how much I hate him, but maybe she doesn’t remember all the details.

A door closes with a snap at the garage, and a burly Asian man walks in our direction.

I stiffen and lower my head, fixing my hair to cover my eye.

“Relax,” Noah says. “This is Jay.”

“Hi.” He waves.

“Jay is head of security,” Noah explains. “He runs the place with Camila. She’s head staff leader. I’ll take you to meet her next, but she already approves of you because of me.” She smirks and brushes fake lint from her shoulder.

“I really appreciate this.”

“Says the girl who refused my offer so many times in the past.”

“Three.” I make clear. “And things are different now.”

“Lucky for me.” She puts her arm around me as Bear continues to meow. “Jay will get the cat and your things and park your car in the employee lot, then we’ll ride with Camila to the main house.”

I tense and glance at Bear.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Jay says. “Scout’s honor. I’ll get him to your room and give him some water. He’ll be fine.”

He’s good with people, at least at the shelter he is. “The plastic bag has his food and bowls.” I point to them. “Are you sure about taking them?”

“My girlfriend has a cat she can't live without,” he comments and opens the passenger side to talk to Bear.

“Just leave your keys on the seat for him,” Noah says, and I tense again.

“What if I need to leave or get something from my car?” Not having easy access to it makes me anxious.

“He’ll bring your keys to your room. If you need to leave, one of the staff will get your car for you. You’re safe though, I promise. Anything you might need will be provided. And as you saw from the two gates, no one is getting in without Jay’s knowledge.”

I did find it weird that I had to pass through two separate gates to get here. I haven’t even seen the mansion yet. “There’s a lot of land here. How is the property monitored?”

“Cameras, alarms, and a fortress wall,” Jay answers as he grabs my bags, the litter, and the litter box.

I turn to him. “Are you sure you don’t need help? That’s a lot.”

“This is nothing.”

“But the litter box…” It’s empty and wrapped in a trash bag. Still, I feel bad.

“Go with Noah. I’ll take care of everything. From the way this cat is meowing, he wants out. I don’t blame him.”

Fighting my urge to do this all myself, I set the key on the driver’s seat. “Thank you.”