Chapter 15
Stretching above my head, I yawn, my body feeling sore as fuck from these last few days … or week of practice, weights, and everything combined.
But I can’t mope around in bed and my room much longer because Elias and Finny are going to be here soon.
They’re coming over to hang out. We might hit the pool for a bit, let our muscles relax in the water; it always helps.
Dean is stuck with our father this afternoon in meetings and company shit. I still can’t believe he has enough restraint to work at his side and not sock him in the face for acting like such a bitch lately.
He’s a better man than me.
My phone chimes—my favorite sound over the last couple of days we’ve been texting with our girl. She’s been a much-needed ray of sunshine in my and Dean’s life.
We’ve been talking almost constantly about anything, everything. Since Dean’s in meetings right now, I text her privately so as to not bother him.
Good morning, Princess.
Princess: What’re you up to today?
Wishing you were here or coming over soon. I think I’m going to get in the pool.
Princess: But my mask would wash away.
Then you’d just have to take it off.
Princess: Hmm, tempting.
What’re you doing? Besides avoiding me like it’s your job.
Princess: Like how you avoid seriousness with your jokes and smooth comments.
You think I’m smooth?
Princess: *eye roll*
*grabs neck, kisses you deeply*
Princess: If you’re lucky.
I’m always lucky.
Princess: And cocky.
Oh, I’m doing just fine in that department too, baby.
Princess: Mmhmm, I’m sure.
Come find out.
Princess: Okay. Are you sure you’re ready?
My heart races, and I sit up taller before realizing that she’s teasing me.
That’s not nice.
Princess: I’m sorry. :(
I forgive you. But you could come make it up to me.
Princess: Soon.
Now, what is distracting you from your overwhelming feelings for us today?
Princess: Work. I picked up an extra shift today, so I’m about to clock in soon.
Which is where exactly?
Princess: That’s a secret.
So many secrets.
Princess: It’s for the best, I promise.
I believe you.
Finny texts me that he and Elias are at the gate.
I told them I’d meet them out there because I wanted to talk to Roy anyway about how this girl has been slipping past security every time she meets with us.
He said he was going to pull camera footage for me, but he still hasn’t followed up about it.
I throw on some sweats but opt out of a shirt, wanting to feel the warm sun on my skin for a minute, before heading downstairs and outside to meet the guys.
The sun greets me with a hug as I jog down the steps and make the quick run over to the security booth.
“Mr. Kensington,” Roy greets me. “I assume these hooligans are with you?” he teases, smiling.
I laugh. “Nope. Intruders. Call the police.”
He chuckles before unlocking the gate with his controls, the mechanics slowly opening the doors. “Nice seeing you boys again.”
They wave and share their thanks as Elias pulls through in his G-Wagon.
“Roy, I actually wanted to see if you had any updates for me.” I step up to the window he’s leaning out of.
There’s a beat of uncertainty on his face, like he isn’t quite sure how to respond, but eventually, he finds the words.
“Actually, y-yes,” he stutters. “So, weird thing happened. When I went in to pull the tape, there was a gap in the footage, a missing hour or so. It just cuts out and then returns later. I’m not entirely sure how it’s possible.
But I just wanted to let you know.” His lip quivers ever so slightly, telling me everything I need to know.
He’s lying. He knows it. I know it. I just don’t know why.
Does he know her? Is he helping her? Willing to risk his job for her?
Regardless, I’m not ready to call him out on it. I need to talk to Dean first.
I lift my hand up to shake his, and he hesitantly takes it.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. If you find anything else, let me know.”
“Will do, Mr. Kensington,” he replies and I feel more confused than when I ran over here.
I salute him and take off, catching up with Elias and Finny, who are already parked in front of the house and waiting outside the Jeep.
“Pool?” I ask, desperate for a swim to help clear my mind.
“Yes!” Finny shouts, stoked at the idea. “I still can’t believe you have a pool. I mean, I feel that way about most of your life but still.”
I chuckle. “What’s mine is yours, Finny.”
Elias blows out a slow whistle. “Careful. He’ll take you up on that.”
We head inside and up to my wing to let the guys change.
“You know,” Finny mutters as we head downstairs, “I think I kind of hate you.”
“That’s fair.” I laugh. “Can I ask why?”
“Because I’m jealous that this is your house, you lucky fuck,” he groans.
“Trust me, I get it, bro. Remember that this isn’t always what my life looked like. Not until I was ten. I certainly never lived in a place like this when I was in foster care.”
“Shit.” He winces. “I honestly forget that you guys are adopted. You look so much alike.”
“Like long-lost twins,” I mutter, repeating the sentiment told to Dean and me since we were kids. “And don’t feel bad. I understand.”
“How much do you understand?” He side-eyes me with a smirk.
“Bro, I’ve always told you if you need anything, let me know. We’ve got to take care of our goalie.”
“I know, man. I’m just giving you shit,” he teases.
We step out the back of the house and walk toward the fenced-off pool area.
I’ve made that offer to him countless times over, and I mean it genuinely every time, but I don’t know if his pride would let him accept a handout.
He’s worked his ass off to be here. He has no shame in the life he lives, and he shouldn’t. But I know it’s not as fortunate as the life we were handed on a platter.
Elias tosses his phone onto one of the chairs and runs toward the pool, jumping and tucking his knees up. He cannonballs into the water, a massive splash exploding sky high, coating the tiles surrounding the pool.
“Woo!” Elias cheers as he flips his hair back, spraying us like a dog shaking out water. He smirks, treading with his arms. “Come on, boys. Let’s play mermaids.”
Finny, more excited than I expect, drops his shit and follows Elias’s path of chaos, launching himself into the pool with a backflip. “I get to be the king!”
“I hate you both.” I laugh. The sound builds more and more as Finn nearly takes Elias out with his flip.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end—the kind of sixth sense you feel when you’re being watched.
Instinct turns my head toward the back door of the house. But no one’s there.
Weird.
Trying to shake the uncomfortable feeling, I kick my sandals off and set my phone next to theirs before going in after them.
“Look out!” is the only warning I give them before I launch myself right where they’re swimming.
“Asher!” Elias scolds, but it’s too late.
I’m already flying through the air and crashing into the water between them.
“Jesus!” Finny mutters, swimming out of the way as I right myself, running my hands over my wet hair to push it out of my face. “Oww. Oww. Oww. You hurt me. I might need compensation for my injuries.”
Swimming upward, I propel myself further out of the water enough to get leverage on Finny, planting my hands on his shoulders and plunging him down under the water.
“Might need it for that too then.”
He resurfaces and flips me off. “Dick.”
I shrug and kick off, wanting to stretch my muscles out with a couple of light laps. I’m aching to the bone.
“God, I love your pool,” Elias mutters when I swim back to them.
I scoff, “You literally have one.”
“But it’s not nearly as enjoyable as yours,” he groans.
We continue to swim for an hour before we’re all ready to get out, my stomach rumbling like a storm.
I don’t miss the opportunity to towel-whip Finny on our way in. He yips, his back arching violently. Elias busts out in a fit of laughter.
“Fuck, Ash! That hurt like a bitch!” Finny groans, trying to rub the sting away, but it’s in that one sweet spot between your shoulder blades that you can’t perfectly reach.
Chuckling, I rub the towel over my hair, drying it off as much as possible. I wrap the towel around my waist, resting it right below my hips.
A shiver runs through me, shaking my shoulders, and that eerie feeling returns to the base of my neck.
Am I losing it? Am I just paranoid as shit today for no reason?
“I’m starving,” Finny groans as we head back to the house.
“I’m sure Jo has lunch scheduled. I’ll just let her know to plan for two extra plates,” I say while my mind and eyes roam around what I can see of the property, searching for a culprit for the spooky sensation at the base of my neck.
“Give the lady a day off. We can make our own sandwiches.” Finny smacks my chest, pulling me out of my wandering stupor.
“Well, you’d better get in there, Chef,” I tease him.
“I’m a great cook, I’ll have you know.” Finny puffs his chest as we ascend the stairs and walk inside.
“I’m sure you are, buddy. But Jo is probably already prepping at this point and would honestly be offended if I made my own lunch. She’s very protective of her kitchen.”
Quickly, I swing by the kitchen, letting an eager Jo know about the two extra guests.
Then we head up to my room and change before Finny and Elias race each other to our theater down the hall.
“I’ll be there in a second,” I shout after them, wanting to grab something from downstairs before joining them.
I turn the corner into the laundry room and collide with a girl.
“Oh, sorry!” a sweet voice calls out.
Chills of familiarity erupt across the tops of my forearms.
“You’re fine,” I murmur, taking her in for the first time.
She’s short and blonde. There is something about her … something recognizable … but I can’t put my finger on it.
She keeps her gaze on my bare chest, not like she’s admiring it, but like she’s scared to look anywhere else. I don’t know if I should be offended that she’s not ogling my physique—an impressive one at that—or glad that she’s not eye-fucking me in the middle of the laundry room.
“Do … do we know each other?” I ask, my gaze scouring every light freckle and inch of her face.
Her voice isn’t as angelic as before when she replies, still refusing to meet my eye, “I work here, Mr. Kensington. I’m sure that’s all.”
I gathered that from the scrubs she’s in and that she’s walking through my house in the middle of the day. But I feel like there’s more to it.
She turns her head to the side, glancing at the wall. The light illuminates her cheekbone and neck, and I spot red marks on her throat and irritation on her cheek.
My fists clench at the sight.
“Are you all right? Did someone do that?” I ask, anger flooding my system.
I don’t care if I don’t know this girl at all. I’m still going to punish whoever did that. She’s standing here, too scared to even meet my eye. I doubt it’s a fight she would’ve started to earn those marks.
Her gaze falls again. “Do what?” But she knows exactly what because she mindlessly lifts her hand to her neck and cheek. “No, sir. It was an … allergic reaction to a new moisturizer.” Her lips part, like she’s going to say something else but thinks better of it. “Excuse me.”
She pushes past me, and I let her, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable.
But I mutter one last thing before she’s too far gone. “My family is here to help if you need it, okay? You’re not alone. You can always come to me.”
She nods without looking back, scurrying away before disappearing around the corner toward the staff wing. A sick sensation settles into the pit of my stomach.
I don’t talk about it a lot, but I didn’t have a great foster care experience, facing the brutality of my foster father a time or two.
I will always stand up to abusers. I don’t give a shit who they are.
Mentally, I make a note to mention it to Dean. Maybe we can talk to Myra, the staff director, about keeping an eye on her and making sure the girl has all the resources she needs. And to give her my cell number so she can call anytime she may need help.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I check it, finding a text from my girl.
Princess: What are you up to?
About to watch a movie with a couple of friends at my house. You could join …
Princess: Not today. I’m sorry.
It’s okay, baby. Everything okay?
Princess: It’s just been a long day. I just had a rough interaction with my stepmother.
Can I help?
Princess: You already did.
How so?
Princess: By being there for me.
Always.