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When Heather twists back to me with the hint of a smirk, I trace my gaze over her small nose and the tip which turns up slightly. Her cheeks are freckle free, but a dark beauty mark graces the round top of her left cheekbone, and I appreciate the fine, untouched lines which wrinkle the edges of her eyes.
“You make a compelling point.”
I drop my attention to the three angry claw marks beneath her collarbone, accompanied by several more slashed diagonally across the soft swells peeking through her torn shirt.
“Ouch.” She flinches when I brush the edge of my thumb near the highest scratch.
“Stay here,” I command, but true to her stubborn nature, footsteps echo mine all the way to the master bath.
Under the sink, I gather the supplies I need to disinfect her wounds. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”
When I rise, producing a cotton pad and some rubbing alcohol, she shrugs. “Guess I’m not very good at following directions.”
A gentle hum buzzes through the bathroom from the vanity lights. Two different worlds clash between our stares as we wait for the other to give.
It’s been incredibly too long since a woman has been this straightforward with me. Most of the time, I never know when they’re being genuine, and that makes having any meaningful relationships outside of sex difficult.
Finally, breaking the silence between us, I press the saturated tip of the cotton to the deepest mark. “How silly of me to think you’d obey.”
Her breath catches at the sting of alcohol. “I’m not a dog to heel at your call.”
My eyes flick to her neck, imagining how she’d look in nothing else but my hand for a collar.
“No, I don’t suppose you are.”
Her skin pebbles with goosebumps, and curiously, the more I touch, the more I don’t want to stop. So instead of hurrying to treat the area, I do something I hope I won’t end up regretting later.
“This house belongs to my aunt and uncle. Penelope’s parents.”
Her head tips up when I offer their names, and a pair of soft brown eyes flood with amazement. “Patrick Vance. As in, The CEO for Triggerz?”
“I take it you’ve heard of him.”
She waves a hand. “Pfft.Who hasn’t? The man started what’s now a multibillion-dollar corporation in his basement.”
Ah, yes. The basement rumor.
“He didn’t start his business in his basement. A former colleague bet him two million dollars he couldn’t beat him in a one-on-one horse race, and he won, bareback.”
“I don’t believe it.” When I nod, her eyes roll. “You see? This is why I’ve learned not to trust anyone. There are too many lies and not enough truths.”
Now that, I won’t disagree with.
Trading out the soiled swab for a new one, I dab another group of cuts. “After the DUI incident, he offered me a place to stay on the condition I would look after this place.”
Heather considers me thoughtfully, unnervingly. “How did Penelope end up with you?”
“She had a nasty break up last year with her shithead boyfriend and hasn’t really been herself since.” I shrug. “I figured getting her out of Keerah and back to Augustine would help, and she helped get me out of spending weeks in a cold, lifeless building.”
“Even if it meant keeping a constant eye on you?”
A brittle smirk finds my mouth. “Believe it or not, she actually thinks I need her protection.”
“I’ll admit, I’m surprised the two of you are alone.” Her words brush across my wrist as she speaks. “Figured the place would be crawling with guards.”
I pause to watch her pulse, thumping away at her throat. My family name graces the covers of tabloids and magazines weekly. I’ve heard nearly every rumor, but more than anything, I wish I could tell them all the truth.
But the truth would be a lot more devastating than my silence.
