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“Like what?”
“You’re not permitted to go outside.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be getting very far without pants.”
He shoots me a glare. “You’re also not allowed to wander around the house. You’ll stay in this room. You’re permitted to use the attached bathroom just over there.”
I frown. “This is starting to sound less like a safehouse and more like a prison. How am I supposed to eat?”
“Meals will be delivered to you.”
“Yep. Definitely a prison.”
“You’ve clearly never seen the inside of a cell.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Becausethisis the lap of luxury in comparison. If you’re really Chet’s daughter, then I’ll spare no expense in ensuring your comfort. I will, however, insist that you remain in this room and this room only.”
“Why?” I challenge. “Got something to hide?”
“You’re the one intruding onmylife, Ms. McHale. I’m giving you the opportunity to lie low, no strings attached. All I ask in return is that you respect my privacy—”
The bedroom door creaks open. A little girl with big green eyes and chestnut brown hair pokes her nose into the room. She doesn’t say anything, but she peers at me with particularly starry-eyed interest.
“Oh, um…” I clutch the blanket close. “Hello, sweetie. Who might you be?”
Gabriel’s entire disposition shifts so quickly it almost gives me whiplash. One second, I’m talking to a tall, brooding hunk of a Frenchman, and the next he’s scooping the little girl up into his arms and speaking softly to her in rapid-fire French with a kind smile on his lips.
I can’t stop staring at the width of his back and the bulk of his shoulders. Something strange inside me stirs, though I can’t for the love of God figure out why. There’s just something about a big man holding little things that makes me burn inside.
Jesus, Rocky. Pull yourself together.
Gabriel carries her out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. All I can hear after that are his heavy footsteps quickly retreating down the hall.
When he returns a few minutes later, he looks well and truly annoyed.
“Was that your daughter?” I ask.
He ignores me completely. “Focus on rest. I will have a meal and fresh clothes sent up to you.” And with that, he’s gone like the wind.
I remain seated, taking in my surroundings. It’s a large room with minimal furniture. Everything about it is dark, from the wood flooring to the burgundy wallpaper. It doesn’t help that the curtains have been drawn shut, likely to keep any potential outsiders from knowing I’m here. There isn’t a lot in terms of decoration —no family photographs, no vacation memorabilia, no nothing. I feel like I’m in a hotel instead of a family home. Everything’s so… impersonal. There’s no character here, no evidence of the past, only the present.
The other members of the household don’t know me by that name.
I’ve never been more eager to know a person. Enthralled doesn’t even begin to describe my level of curiosity. I want to crack Gabriel Lacroix open like a safe. The more I learn about him, the more I want to know. I’m a parched woman stranded in the desert, anxious for every little drop of information I can get my hands on.
What is he hiding? Who is he really?
For now, though, I really should get some rest. There’s no telling if I’ll need to run again. It could all happen at the drop of the hat, and I’d rather not run for my life while in pure agony.
I reach for my mother’s necklace and slip it on before laying my head down on the pillow. Three days… Three days and not a word from Dad. We’ve had a couple of close calls in the past where we had to go into hiding after a heist until the heat let up, but never under circumstances like these.
Rolling over onto my side, I tuck my knees to my chest.
I hope everyone’s okay.
Chapter 4
