Page 42 of Total Exposure

“Liar,” I say. “Liar.”

“Is this girl a gift or something?”

“What?” His question is so inappropriate, so unexpected, I am at a loss for words.

“This job, Jordan. Is this some kind of gift?”

“No,” I say. “No, it’s just a fucking job.”

“And you couldn’t find another guy to sit in this stupid room and watch her? It just had to be me, right? Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

“It’s just a job,” I say again.

“Is that why I’m here on the anniversary?”

“What?”

“The night you—”

“Stop it,” I say. “That’s not why. I didn’t choose this timing. I’m just a guy who fulfills a need. That’s all.”

“Yeah. Sounds familiar.”

“Ix.” I sigh.

“Coincidence, then. That seven years ago tomorrow is the day you fucked up and ruined my life.”

“I didn’t—” I pinch the space between my eyes, a headache throbbing into existence. “Why are you here?” I ask again.

He takes a breath. Like he’s about to talk. But the moments drag on in silence.

“Ix?” I say.

“For you, asshole. Why the fuck do you think I’m here?”

And then he hangs up on me.

Chapter Thirteen - Evangeline

I awake confused, sweaty, heart racing, panic ready to overtake me… until I remember how I got here.

Not here the house, but here the bed.

I turn over, looking for cameras. Find them all. Count them up. One, two, three, four, five, six. And for some odd reason it calms me. Just knowing he’s there. Just a little. Just enough to fight back the full-fledged attack that would surely be coming if I hadn’t been led up to this bedroom last night by his note.

God, Evangeline, you’re gonna feel really stupid if that he is a she.

It’s not. I can feel him. His gaze on me, his mind a mess of thoughts just like mine.

It’s his job. He’s not infatuated with you. You’re just desperate for attention. You’re just craving an emotional attachment, so you’re inventing a relationship that isn’t real.

It’s something Lucinda might say to me. Though she never has. I’ve had no contact with people other than her in the past year. Not in any significant way.

I roll my eyes at my own ridiculous assumptions. I’m not infatuated with him either. I just find it comforting that I’m alone, but not. It’s like a halfway point. Somewhere safe but challenging at the same time.

I have a sudden urge to talk to him. Say something mundane like, Good morning. Or, How did you sleep?

Does he sleep?