18. Blake
Blake
I watch her take in my loft, curious what she thinks. I feel like an ass for not bringing her here sooner, but the truth is, I’m never here other than to sleep, and now even that’s done mostly at Callie’s.
Her gaze moves over the light beechwood floor that contrasts with the dark beams running the length of the ceiling and the huge island in the same dark wood dominating the kitchen area. Windows take up most of the wall space, leaving only small areas of the original exposed brickwork showing around them. The kitchen itself is modern, sleek, and minimalistic with its dark cupboards, charcoal granite surfaces, and brushed steel appliances, making it a drool-worthy space to most people’s standards.
While the kitchen is all about clean lines and order, the living area is all about comfort. Located at the far end, just before the bedrooms, the area boasts two large tan leather corner sofas littered with multicolored cushions and a sixty-inch television mounted on the wall. A circular distressed oak coffee table sits between the sofas on a plush cream rug, perfect for kicking back and putting my feet on, much to my grandmother’s dismay.
“This place is so much bigger than it looks from the outside,” Callie muses, her voice filled with awe.
“It was originally a warehouse. The person who owned it before knocked this floor into one big space with the exception of the two bedrooms and bathrooms, which are through those doors down there.” I point to the far end of the colossal room. “The downstairs has been converted into a garage. When I bought this place, it was with the intention to make the lower floor Price Security offices. But in the end, I decided to keep my work and home separate.”
“Makes sense. Either way, I love it. It’s so light and airy.”
I smile as she takes in the rest of the space, glad she likes it because I want her to be comfortable here.
It’s sunny today, so the walls of windows are letting in streams of warm sunshine, making everything feel warm and cozy. I watch the sun catch her hair as she walks toward the middle of the room, the flecks of red and gold-colored tones looking almost like fire. She runs her fingertips over the green felt of the pool table that sits adjacent to the kitchen, along with a wet bar and a handful of arcade machines against the wall.
“Ever the eternal bachelor, huh?” she teases over her shoulder with a glint in her eye.
“Well, I was until a crazy woman hypnotized me with a giant pink cock,” I answer drolly, making her laugh.
“Come on, let’s put this stuff in the bedroom. Then we can go out for breakfast before heading to the office.”
She waits for me to lead the way, then follows behind me. She glances around the room briefly, looking from the large bed covered with black and gray bedding to the gray wing-back chair in the corner with the reading lamp beside it. A dark wood chest of drawers sits against the wall facing the bed with a television mounted above it.
“I’ve plenty of space in the closet, and I’ll clear out a few drawers for you when we get back later, but I want to show you something first.” I place her bags at the foot of the bed and snag her hand, pulling her over to the far left side of the room and into the closet.
“Ooh, are we going to Narnia?” When we come to the door at the back of the closet, she turns to look at me with excitement. “I always wanted to meet Aslan.”
“Laugh it up, Callie, but pay attention. This is important, okay?”
She nods solemnly and salutes, making my lips twitch.
“Someone clearly wants a spanking later,” I mutter, only too happy to oblige.
I swing the door open and reveal a safe room.
“What in the Jodie Foster… It’s like something out of a movie. Did you have this added?” she asks curiously, walking inside.
“No, it was here when I moved in. It was a surprise find as it wasn’t listed on the blueprints. It’s small but functional.”
There is a single cot-style bed against the wall with a blanket and a pillow upon it. A small fridge next to it has bottles of water inside and a basic first aid kit on top. Above that is a cupboard with a bunch of nonperishable foods. It’s not fancy but it will do in an emergency. Nobody is expected to be stuck in here for a long period of time.
“This room is exactly what you think it is. Panic room, safe room, call it what you like, the idea is the same. If anything happens while you’re here at the loft and you are told to get in here, do it. Don’t argue, okay? As much as I know you’ll want to help, you’ll be a distraction. Knowing you are safe in here means the guys and I can focus on other things until the situation is under control,” I explain, needing her to be on the same page as me.
She looks at me intently, a myriad of emotions playing across her face before she nods. “Okay, Blake, I promise. If something happens while we are here and you or one of the guys orders me inside, I’ll go without a fight.”
I sigh in relief and turn to show her the control panel and screen behind the door. “See this?” I point to the first of five buttons running horizontally along the screen. I press it when she nods, and the screen comes to life, showing her a camera view of the closet. “The next button switches cameras to the bedroom, and the third button down is the main living area. The other two buttons are for views of the garage and outside. They never had a phone line installed for some reason, but you’ll get a signal with your cell phone just fine. I’m going to arm the door and leave it open. All you have to do is close it behind you, and the locks will engage. Nobody will be able to get in from the outside. Not even me.”
“You’re freaking me out, Bundy,” she tells me, looking a little pale.
I pull her into my arms and tuck her under my chin. “You’ll likely never need it, but I’d rather you be freaked out now and safe later if the worst happens.” Her safety is all that matters to me right now.
“Okay, but can we get out of here now? It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Sure. Let’s get some breakfast and bring the boys some doughnuts.”
“I approve of this plan. Let’s go.”
I follow as she pulls me along, looking back at the now-open door, hoping we never get to the point where she needs it.
Because if she does need it, that would mean Christian has found her, and shit has really hit the fan.