Chapter 15
The house is haunted
Scarlett
Endo deposits me in my room, and after a few hours of giggling, I cry.
Once the floodgates open, there is no holding back.
All the worries pour out of me in the form of tears, and I don’t try to stop them or be strong or any of that nonsense my mother used to tell me I should do when I was a little girl.
She was a great mom, but she raised me to think that feeling anything was a sign of weakness.
I should be strong and impartial. A logical thinker who would do what was needed of her.
It means I grew up meeting everyone’s expectations, a people pleaser, if you will.
I also smiled at everyone feeding me the crap about duty to self, to family, to society.
I’ve been the person who doesn’t disappoint.
But then I hit the crossroads. My mom brought up med school, and I applied. My dad wanted me to marry a successful man. Any man would do, as long as he was wealthy. When I chose med school over the advantageous marriage, my dad looked disappointed.
He disappeared from the house for a few months and then came back with Josh.
I often wonder if my mother tried to buy her way back into Dad’s good graces by pushing Josh onto Charlotte. I remember my sister already had a crush on someone else, so she didn’t care for Josh, and despite being on birth control, she got pregnant with Beatrice.
I suspected foul play and brought it up to my sister, but by then she’d fallen for Josh.
Maybe I owed Charlotte my freedom. Maybe she would have gotten together with that random kid she dated before Josh if I’d married a rich guy and smiled at his functions while nannies raised our five children.
I didn’t need to love him. I just had to love the money he’d give me. My dad’s words, not mine.
It’s dark outside, and the moon is full, illuminating the room, for which I’m grateful, so I can see my way to the light switch. There’s no lamp on the nightstand, I don’t have a phone, and the only light in the room comes from the chandelier I turn on.
The bright glow illuminates the space. I squint as I walk to the closet to grab my pajamas. I need a shower, and since there’s none attached to the room, I assume it’s somewhere nearby. Carrying my pajamas, I step outside, expecting to see Declan standing guard, but his station is empty.
Maybe he’s off-duty at night.
Maybe I could escape.
And go where? Down the river in the middle of the night?
No way. I’m not that brave or that desperate.
Yet. My dad will deliver Cass’s location, and Endo will return me home.
I hold on to hope. The alternative is that I resign myself to being buried.
That line of thinking won’t make me want to run.
It might not even get me out of bed in the morning.
Just find a shower, Scarlett.
Endo said the east wing had been remodeled, which means there are probably showers there, but I overheard someone mention a bath located on this side.
I keep the door in my room open so I can see where I’m going since I can’t find any other lights in the long, narrow hallway. There’s one door on my right, and I pass small wooden doors on my left. They’re so narrow, they creep me out.
I’m not afraid of the dark, but my bare feet pad over cold stone, which serves as a stark reminder of the age of this house. These aren’t hardwood floors.
The house might be haunted.
By pirate ghosts.
Are they behind me?
My heart’s in my throat now. I want to turn around and run back to the room, crawl under the covers, and hide. It’s pitch black in the hallway. I lose courage and turn back. That’s when I spot a thin line of light under a door.
I feel around for the doorknob, and when I find it, I twist and open.
Bingo. Fist pump. Found the bath.
Gosh, it’s beautiful. One of those old baths with a square pool of steaming hot water, a tranquil stone wall with a gentle waterfall running over it, and high windows on the left overlooking the expansive estate.
White towels are stacked on the wooden bench between a pair of showers with modern bamboo panels.
Endo lied.
This part of the west wing was renovated. Makes me wonder what else he lied about.
I undress at the bench, and my toes curl at the warmth of the heated stone. Compared to the cold stone hallways and the marble stairs, these floors feel amazing.
I lower myself into the bath, dunk under water, then find a spot to rest. The spa might have motion detectors, because when I touch the wall, the bottom of the spa lights up with a soft glow. A single jet pumps water at my back, giving me a nice massage. I sigh and rest my head back.
The ceiling is painted.
The sun struggles to penetrate the clouds that have gathered over a single large boat sailing the wide-open sea.
Men work on the boat, but I think that might be a woman at the helm, steering it.
She’s smiling and looking over her shoulder at the uniformed man who’s holding his captain’s hat over her head as if passing it to her.
It’s a lively image. Romantic, even. There’s a child tugging on her dress.
In the distance, there’s a harbor, and I think she’s sailing toward it.
Sweat beads my brow.
I wipe my forehead and dunk under the water again.
When I come up, I spot Endo standing at the door.
He wears black slacks and a black shirt and leans against the doorjamb with one ankle crossed over the other.
The cold from the rest of the house seeps into the bath, and I shiver.
Endo turns and closes the door, staying inside with me. Trapping me with him. I’m nude, and the water is clear, aside from the little bubbles made by the jet at my back.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
We’re trying to be adults about my nudity. It’s comforting. “The high wore off, so I’m fine.”
“Have you ever smoked before?”
“Once. My freshman year. You?”
Endo shakes his head. “Never.”
“Really?”
“I don’t willingly ingest or inhale anything that clouds my judgment.”
“Ah, when you put it that way, one might peg you for a control freak.”
“One will never peg me, luv.”
I press my lips together to stop from smiling at his sexual reference. I imagine there’s not a bone in this man’s body that would enjoy any form of submission, sexual or otherwise.
He pushes off the doorjamb, and I stiffen, wondering if he’ll undress to join me, but he walks over to the wall and opens what appears to be a utility cabinet. He turns on the lights right outside the large windows and illuminates an infinity pool that appears to end inside the forest.
“Oh, that’s pretty.”
“My slice of heavenly peace.”
It is very tranquil here.
Endo faces the moonlight. The scene reminds me of one of those billionaire billboards, with men in suits staring out the windows of their office overlooking the city.
But Endo doesn’t belong in the city on top of some high-rise, meeting with executives all day long. That kind of life speaks of routine and discipline and predictable behaviors. I doubt Endo enjoys anything predictable. That life would bore him.
“Do you sail?” I ask.
“As often as I can.”
“I’ve never been on a boat.”
He turns his head toward me. “No?”
“No, never had a chance.”
“You’ll have to ferry to the island from the mainland when you leave for your work assignment.”
“How do you know about my assignment?”
“I asked.”
“Have you been there?”
Endo nods. “Twice. It’s a highly volatile region. Not a good place for you.”
“What is a good place for me?”
He shrugs. “Not there.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know everything.”
“Except where your brother is.”
“Correct.” Endo turns with coldness in his gaze, our reprieve broken. “Today, my meeting went sideways.”
“You came back bloody.” I’m trying hard not to care. It’s enough that I helped his pastry chef with her case of bad indigestion and a possible ulcer.
“The blood was Marquis’s, who, besides being the head of my staff, is a dear friend of mine.”
Oh no. Don’t care. Do not care.
Endo crosses his arms and appears uncomfortable. “I need your help.”
Noooo.
The answer is no.
But…
Don’t do it. Those puppy-dog eyes are fake. It’s bait. He’s found a way to exploit my kind nature. He said he knows everything, which means he knows that I try to be useful and helpful wherever and whenever I can. Solving problems and helping people feel better brings me joy.
My mother told me I should be more careful about who I extend a hand to. She said people will use me. Dangerous people like Endo, who will exploit me for my skills.
I can’t let him do that.
“The bullet is still inside him,” he says. “If he moves even an inch, his lung might collapse.”
“That is a serious injury. I’m sure you’ll arrange for an excellent surgical team.”
“He has me and you.”
I shake my head. “I’m not a surgeon. Or a trauma doctor. Not even close.”
“You will do fine.”
“Even if I were a surgeon, I can’t get involved in your business. I could lose my license.”
Endo shows me his teeth. “You will help him.”
If I give in to his demands, he’ll steamroll over me. He never asked. He demanded that I help his friend, which I can’t. When I say I’m not qualified, I mean it. In fact, very few surgeons are qualified to perform such high-risk surgeries.
Not to mention, I can’t risk my future, since my work is everything to me. I love my job. It would devastate me to lose the right to practice medicine.
“He needs a hospital. A team of professionals.”
Endo moves to the bench and picks up a towel. He shakes it out, unfolding it. Clearly, he wants me to get out of the bath and do what he needs me to do. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” he asks.
I frown. “Probably not.”
“Didn’t think so. Because when you say he needs a hospital and a team, I’m thinking of holding an entire hospital hostage while a team of surgeons operates on Marquis.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I won’t have to if you operate on him.”
“Are you serious?”
He shakes out the towel. “Get out of the bath, Scarlett.”
I dunk under the water. When I come up, Endo is all but fuming.
“I bet Marquis isn’t even conscious.”
“He’s not.”
“Then he can’t consent to the procedure.”
“I don’t care.”
“I care. He’s married, isn’t he? Let’s call his husband.”
“Philip thinks it’s a minor flesh wound. And you won’t tell him otherwise.”
“What will you do if Marquis dies on the table, huh? Because I’m no surgeon. And even if I were, surgery is a team effort. I need an anesthesiologist, nurses, staff with monitors, etc. A bullet stuck inside a body isn’t something I can put a bandage over.” Angry, I climb out of the spa.
Endo sucks in a breath.
I stand in front of him with my hand outstretched, waiting for him to pass me the towel. He’s staring. Not even blinking, and there’s heat in his gaze. Endo finds me attractive enough to render him speechless. I take that as a compliment.
He’s a beautiful man who has been with beautiful women. Probably many of them, while I’ve been with a handful of partners who scratched the itch. I didn’t commit to celibacy. It just happened because studies took over my life. Relationships were distractions I couldn’t afford in med school.
I try to snatch the towel.
Endo tucks it behind his back and steps forward until my wet body dampens his clothes.
I open my mouth to protest, but he covers my hair with the towel and dries it. Strong fingers massage my scalp. We’re so close that I can see the chestnut-brown flecks in his obsidian eyes.
I open my mouth so I have something to do with it besides kiss him, but Endo shakes his head, telling me without words that we should remain standing here in silence.
Maybe he fears the moment will dissipate when I talk.
He’s right. I want to ruin the moment. It’s intimate.
Daring. Irreversible if allowed to continue.
Endo holds my gaze while he moves the towel over my shoulders, my arms, down my back, then the front.
He squeezes my breasts, but moves on to drying my belly right after that. When he drops to one knee to dry my legs, I suck in a breath. Endo still holds my gaze, but now he’s kneeling with his face near my middle. He’s stirring all kinds of butterflies in my belly. Elsewhere too.
“What if I said the hell with my brother and kept you for myself?”
“You can’t do that,” I tell him.
“Oh, but I can.”
“You won’t.” I couldn’t abandon Charlotte, and Endo has gone to all these lengths for Cass. He won’t stop looking for him if he thinks his brother is out there and in trouble.
“Help Marquis.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling you.”
“What if I refuse?”
Endo’s jaw ticks. “Then I’ll ask.”
“What if you asked now?”
“You’d think I’m growing soft for you and try to take advantage of it.”
I shrug. “You’d find your way to asshole land again and self-correct the nice-Endo course.”
He smiles. “Fuck, I really like you.”
I smile in turn. “Ask me?”
“Would you please help Marquis?”
“I’ll try.”
Endo kisses the center of my mound. “Good girl.”