Chapter 18 Striking Nerves
Elsie
The thought of Aiden’s panicked, terrified face earlier was the only thing that brought me grim satisfaction. The threat note was just the start. He was terrified and that meant my plan was working.
I remembered the quiet half-hour yesterday when I’d finished my initial inventory of the second floor. I had spotted the CCTV camera facing the hallway that led to Aiden's room.
I didn't smash it; I was smarter than that. I had simply used a tiny piece of wet dust cloth and a cleaning spray, angling it to obscure the lens just enough to make the image useless.
I had planted the note and the fabric scrap quickly, before they had the chance to fix the camera. Now, Aiden was panicking, and they had no footage of the intruder.
My plan was working, but the unwanted memories snuck in. It’s been two days of Caleb taking up every single one of my thoughts. I’ve been trying to avoid him, mostly because I’m afraid he’ll see the effect he has on me. His very presence sends waves of nervousness and arousal crashing into me, nearly drowning me each time those intense dark eyes lock on mine.
I couldn’t stop thinking about our car ride or the way his fingers traced the lines of my panties or the way his finger circled my swollen clit. I felt every one of his defined muscles pressed up against me, the heat of his skin branding mine.
But that wasn’t all.
More than his sexy, sculpted body, fierce eyes, and well-kept beard, it’s him. It’s the way he cared for me, the way he not only listened to me but took the risk of driving in the rain to look for me.
With Jacob, it was different. The way he had me on the cold hard floor, his gorgeous face buried between my legs, and his tongue probing every side of my arching pussy until my body surrendered.
My pussy flooded at the thought of my juice coating his mouth and smearing on the hair dotting his jawline.
I pushed the image down hard. They were both poison. I am not here to feel. I was here to ruin them, not to crave them.
I pulled my small wooden box from under the bed. Time to fold the clean laundry.
I lifted a garment from the pile, a soft, coral-colored dress. My fingers froze.
It was the dress Clarita bought me.
A sudden, sharp wave of grief hit me. Clarita knew I hated dresses. I always wore shorts and kept my hair short because I liked being mistaken for a boy. But for my 15th birthday, Clarita had wanted me to feel beautiful. She worked two shifts at the local diner just so we could eat, and she still saved enough for this dress. She had been so proud, so happy.
A single tear escaped my eye and dropped onto the soft coral fabric. It wasn't fair. She was gone, and I was here playing dangerous games with the men who killed her. I quickly wiped my face. Crying was a weakness.
I arranged the clothes quickly, the memory fueling my resolve. I grabbed my cleaning caddy. I had to get back to work and find some way to gather information.
I found Mrs. Chavez in the main kitchen, overseeing the evening prep.
"Oh, good, you're back, child," Mrs. Chavez said, smiling warmly. Now, about that schedule."
"I was heading up to do the cleaning rotation for the second floor, ma'am," I said, trying to sound professional. "Which suite first?"
Mrs. Chavez shook her head. "No, Mr. Caleb just sent down a specific request. He's working in his study today, and he needs a fresh pot of coffee, strong, black, and hot, delivered immediately. You know how particular he is when he's focusing. Can you handle that? I'm tied up with the sauces."
My heart pounded. Caleb's study. This was better than cleaning his room. Cleaning required me to be invisible; delivering coffee gave me direct, necessary access.
I was done hiding from the two Lancaster brothers I’ve tasted in ways that should be considered sinful. Hiding meant not finding much of what I needed. And I couldn’t wait to be done and out of their blood sucking lives, but that won’t happen if I’m hiding instead of looking for evidence.
"Yes, ma'am. I can do that right away," I confirmed, reaching for the silver tray. Caleb is a means to an end.
As I waited for the coffee to brew, I glanced out the kitchen window toward the long drive.
My eyes widened.
Aiden was outside near the garden entrance, talking to a man I’d never seen before. The man was strange. He was built like a gymnast, all dense muscle, wearing a suit that was too tight, and dark, large sunglasses. He looked like a professional threat.
Aiden was speaking fast, gesturing wildly. The man was completely still, his body language radiating quiet menace. They weren't just chatting; Aiden looked desperate, and the man looked like a hired solution.
Aiden has an activated muscle. The planting of the note was working. The fear was real. But who was this man?
I carefully placed the heavy silver coffee pot and a delicate cup on the tray. I had my opportunity now. I needed information for Jacob, and Caleb's study was the best place to find it. Anything to keep my head off the chopping block.
My real target, though, was my golden button. Jacob had taken it when he caught me spying, and it was the only piece of genuine, physical evidence I had left.
Jacob was different from the rest. He was a control freak. He cleaned his own room. He didn’t let any staff in because he didn’t think anyone would clean it the way he wanted. That meant I didn’t have any excuse to be in his room.
I needed a distraction. I would take the information I found in Caleb’s study or bedroom—anything that looked like a secret—and present it to Jacob. While he was distracted, feeling powerful and superior, I would find and retrieve the golden button.
I lifted the heavy tray and headed toward the main stairs.