9. Gilli #2
Growing up, Suz wasn’t much of a cook. It fell on me to handle meals for us and that kind of position often becomes a trial by fire. Either you eat something burned black or you teach yourself how to do more than slather some peanut butter and jelly on white bread.
“She won’t tell you what they are, though,” Aiden adds as he dumps an obscene amount of black pepper over the eggs. “I tried to talk to her last night and she zipped her lips.”
Soren glowers at his cousin, an unspoken conversation passing between them.
“If you really want to know,” I say, “I split my time between two jobs, one of which keeps me busy during the day and the other at night. It doesn’t leave much time for hobbies, but I enjoy gardening. Making something from nothing and watching things grow where they didn’t before.”
There. It’s as much as I’ll give them.
“So you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty,” Soren replies.
I shrug. “It depends on the job.”
“Well, everyone needs to pull their weight around here. Because you can’t just lounge around in bed all day.”
I gasp, outraged. “I’ve been here less than one full day and at no point have you seen me lounging in bed.”
“I think he’s just trying to ask what else you can do,” Aiden explains gently.
Soren sprinkles enough salt on top of them to pucker my lips from across the room and follows it with a healthy dose of hot sauce.
I’m about to step in when he goes for the bottle of ketchup, but he stops himself at the last moment with a slight shake of his head.
“Outside of work…I eat and sleep. That’s it,” I say.
Hobbies have gone down the tubes for me. Even my girlfriends have given up on me after too many ignored messages and unreturned calls.
“I thought you’d be out every night partying,” Soren grumbles.
My nose goes out of joint. “Maybe you actually hate the person you think I am, rather than me.”
When it’s clear Soren means to leave no eggs for me, I force myself into motion, grabbing a plate. I’m purposely close when I reach around him and he stiffens when our skin brushes.
Even from the side, he looks mad, his eyebrows narrowed down and shadowing his eyes. His beard is trimmed and clean but his brows are bushy in comparison.
He’s got a problem, and I guarantee asking him about it will only make him angrier.
I scoop some eggs off his plate and onto mine. Daring him to say something.
“You’re going to have to find something to do with yourself,” he grits out. “We can’t be expected to keep you company or hold your hand.”
“Ah, the pulling your weight thing. I get it, Soren.” I roll my eyes.
His scowl deepens. “Try not to get into trouble. Once we take care of a few things this morning, I can come up with some ideas for you.”
“You want me out there chopping wood for the fire pit?” I ask.
“Don’t tempt me. If I thought you could handle an axe by yourself, then I might set you on the task. It might be nice for you to run a vacuum over the place.”
“I’m paying for my stay in chores. I get it.” I drop into the chair at the head of the table and shove some of the revolting eggs into my mouth, chewing through them like a brat. “You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m a functioning adult.”
Soren looks at me, really looks at me. His gaze is loaded and he holds my stare with his head cocked to the side as he studies me. There is nothing innocent about him. Not with his chest rising and falling heavily.
Your move, dickhead .
I feel his attention on my skin, in my stomach. Instinctively I drag in a breath and swallow hard. The hot sauce burns my tongue.
There is something wrong with me and I’ve never been more keenly aware of it than I am right now. His attention has my thighs clenching together.
“Stay out of trouble, Gilli,” he warns in a gravelly undertone. “It would help if you did the dishes, too.”
“I already offered to cook. I don’t need you to make me a list of things to do.”
Aiden brings his empty plate to the sink before stepping up and grabbing the runs of my chair. My breath catches in my throat with the two of them so close around me.
I stop breathing entirely when Soren’s gaze drops to the low neckline of my blouse. Heat curls in my stomach. I’m warm inside but I can’t bring myself to think about the real reason why. I need to put more clothes on. I need?—
“When we get back, I’ll take you into town to grab more eggs and whatever else you might need, if your car isn’t working,” Aiden supplies. “Until then, be good, little chaos demon.”
Both of them take off at the same time, twin movements, and it takes me too long to get the air back into my lungs once they leave .
I have to get a grip on myself.
If I succumb to them, to their masculinity and their powerful presence, then I’ll be too distracted to claw my way out of trouble. Which takes precedence over fantasizing about two wholly inappropriate people.
I shove the plate of inedible eggs away. Too much salt and hot sauce. His blood pressure has to be through the roof.
A low buzz sounds.
Soren left his phone on the counter. I think it’s his—I’m pretty sure I saw him with it yesterday. I clear my throat to call out to him just as an engine guns from the driveway.
A shower of gravel cracks against the side of the house and by the time I’ve raced to the window, I catch the tail end of a utility vehicle I’d never seen before disappearing into the woods.
Whatever business they have today, they’d rather I not know.
It’s impossible not to look at the phone. Why would Soren leave it?
Especially when he doesn’t trust me.
He scrutinizes every move I make. Even when he barely looks at me, he’s aware .
Most people I know are attached to their phone like it’s a physical extension of themselves. And Soren claimed not to be forgetful.
Is this a test?
A way to see if I’m a good person or not?
My fingers twitch. Sorry to say, it’s less a moral quandary than one of survival. His won’t be a number they’ll trace back to me if I call the police to ask them a few questions, not to mention I’ll be able to get on the internet and do my searching before the boys get back.
If I want to get out of here soon, the police will be the best place to start.
Temptation is too great to pass up. I grab the cell.
His password isn’t too hard to figure out. His fingerprints have left a trail across the screen, an easy one to trace, and it’s a matter of seconds before typing in his birthday unlocks the screen.
Dialing 911 would be a mistake. For one thing, this isn’t a matter for local police.
At least not yet. For another thing, it’s Soren’s phone, and the call will be recorded.
That’s too much exposure and unnecessary risk.
I do a quick search online then dial the number for the local police department and wait while the line rings and connects.
“Holly Brook Police Department,” a lazy voice drawls. “How can we help?”
I grip the phone hard enough for my knuckles to turn white. “Hi, yes, hello. I have a couple of questions for you.”
“This isn’t a hotline. You’ve got questions, go on the internet and do a search.”
“Please don’t hang up. I need to know what course to take if an online profile makes a threat against my life.”
“An online profile,” the cop repeats my words back to me and this time, his syllables drip with a combination of curiosity and inconvenience. “On what sort of platform?”
I hesitate a moment, swallowing over the needles that are suddenly in my throat. “A cam girl site,” I whisper.
The cop pauses for a moment before he lets out a shrill laugh. “One of your clients getting a little too rambunctious for you, Miss? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“A threat was made against my life and I want to know my options for tracking him down. To make sure he doesn’t threaten me again, online or in person.”
“From what my son tells me, there are trolls everywhere. The internet is the perfect place to make threats but it’s rare to have someone follow through,” the man continues.
“What if this one did? What if someone broke into my house right after the threats were made?”
“You don’t sound local to me. I know voices and I know everyone in this town. We’re a small community. So who are you? ”
I grimace. “I highly doubt you can tell if I’m local or not from my voice.”
“Well, I can. I grew up here. Who is this?” A few more moments of silence and then the distinctive click of a keyboard sounds.
“Look, I’m trying to tell you about my situation. I believe someone is after me and I need to know what to do.”
“Honey, this might be a small town, but we get a lot of calls here during the day. Real problems, real people. Not online stalkers. If you have an issue, then you need to contact the site and have them sort it out for you.”
“I don’t have access to the internet,” I press.
“You’re on a cell phone, aren’t you? So you do have access?—”
“But not the necessary access to get into my account.”
“Not my problem. There’s a free public library in town. Use a computer there. Now, unless you are calling about a formal complaint over something I do have control over, then I’ll be hanging up.”
“Sir, please. Wait a minute!”
His chuckle twines through me, low and contemptuous. “Seems to me girls in your situation should understand the risks before you set up an online profile on a site like that. You’re inviting all the weirdos to see your body and take part in your fantasy bullshit.”
Sounds like a good ol’ boy mentality to me. My spine prickles with alarm. “Kind of a shitty attitude you have,” I sputter.
“Goodbye, miss. Good luck.”
The cop hangs up on me before I have a chance to say anything else. My fingers tremble as I set the phone down.
A part of me wonders why I expected the cops to be of any help. And another part thinks I should have expected the derogatory tone and the laughter.