Chapter 27
The wicked don’t rest
Scarlett
The answer to how I’ll sleep next to the creepy nursery tonight is: I won’t.
The sugar I consumed in the double chocolate cake, coupled with an irrational fear of dolls and ghosts from Endo’s past, who might want to murder me, fed my brain lavish ideas and fantasies.
At least ten times, I’ve pictured a doll climbing onto the kitchen counter and taking the knife Endo left me and then sneaking into my bedroom. The only thing that chases away that fear is the other thing I can’t stop thinking about: Donatella and her baby.
What happened to her baby?
Where is she?
Did she give up the baby? Or should I assume the worse?
Something terrible must’ve happened. Endo doesn’t seem like the type of human who would let go of his child. Or even his woman. And I doubt he would build a life with someone he didn’t want to build a life with, so he must’ve loved her.
Unless she was trapped here like me, and the story of how she peacefully passed away a few years ago is a lie. Still, where is the baby?
I hear a noise. It’s in the room. I freeze. Cannot. Move.
I listen. I’m sure it’s in the room with me.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Cold sweat washes over my body.
I hear a whoosh of a door opening and someone closing it. I dare a side glance at the bedroom door, but that hasn’t moved.
I don’t breathe.
The curtains sway. Light from the outside brightens my bedroom.
I shut my eyes and recite a prayer.
“Can’t sleep?” Endo asks.
I sit up in bed, my heart pounding.
He stands in front of the reading chair in the corner by the window.
Casually, as if being here in the middle of the night is perfectly normal.
As if he owns this space. Come to think of it, he does own this space.
He can be here in the middle of the night because this is his house, and I’m his captive.
But damn him. Just because you can, it doesn’t always mean you should.
Also, he’s barefoot, in black silk pajama bottoms. His hair is mussed, as if he tried to sleep but couldn’t, so he came for a visit. I know he visits me at night, but I forgot about it when I ventured out tonight.
Good thing I didn’t try to run. He’d find me within minutes. I have to keep his nightly visits in mind for when I do escape.
I sigh and lie back down on the bed, scrubbing my face. “I ate cake, so the sugar is keeping me up.”
Endo mumbles something, and I prop up on my elbows just as he sits down in the chair.
What’s this man doing? “Make yourself comfortable,” I deadpan.
“Thank you. I can’t sleep either.”
“Try.”
Endo smiles. “I did, but a certain someone snooped around the house and kept me up past my bedtime.”
“It was you who was in the nursery, then.”
Moonlight shines over one side of his face, the other covered in darkness. When he smiles wider, he appears as villainous as I know him to be. He enjoyed scaring me. He really did.
“It was me.”
This shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does. The fact that I feel better knowing the door didn’t move by itself and that the ghost or a doll isn’t coming after me is evidence of my deteriorating cognitive abilities. My evil captor follows me around and watches me sleep. That is discomforting.
“Does it bother you that I was snooping in the nursery?”
Endo shrugs. “No. I haven’t been there since Foxy died.”
Foxy. He sounds nonchalant, but he also looks out the window, which tells me it’s not as easy a conversation for him as he makes it appear. Did he call Donatella Foxy? A pet name. Endo likes them. He calls me luv sometimes.
“At the clinic, the staff mentioned Donatella,” I start.
“They said she had a baby. I’m sorry.” Since I assume he suffered the loss of a child and possibly a partner, I don’t pry any more.
I wish I hadn’t gone there at all. Maybe the inability to heal his broken heart is what makes Endo a great villain.
“Foxy was so small. My mother shouldn’t have had her that late.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I sit up.
Endo’s gaze returns to me. “My mother was in her late forties when Foxy was born, and my dad was closing on sixty. I’m sure you know the risks late pregnancies carry.
Foxy was born with some kind of condition.
Multiple conditions. She lived only a few months, but my mom…
” Endo pauses. “I think she might’ve loved Foxy more during those months than she loved me or Cass. ”
“The postpartum period can be hard for a woman.”
A shrug. “If you say so, Doc.”
“Doc? You ran out of pet names to call me?”
“I lie in bed at night thinking them up, and tonight I’m here, so yes.”
“Doc isn’t bad. Original.”
He shakes his head. “Sarcasm looks good on you, Doc.”
“You too.”
Endo rises and stretches, cracks his neck.
Does he know how incredibly hot he is when he does that?
I bet he knows. I bet that’s why he’s stretching that way in the moonlight.
His muscles probably aren’t ones earned at the gym.
These are born of generations upon generations of healthy genetics passed down from one pirate to the next.
“Since you’re not letting me watch you sleep, I’ll be going.”
When he reaches the door, I ask. “Hey, how did you get in?”
“We have tunnels.”
“Clean ones too, since you’re barefoot.”
“Maybe I left my slippers by the door.”
“Don’t go,” I whisper. I’m not sure if he heard me, and I don’t even know if I want him to.
Endo frowns. “What was that?” Shadows hide his face.
“Don’t go.”
Endo closes the door and leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Don’t make fun of me, okay? Let’s drop the madness for the night.
I’m scared. I’m scared of stabby dolls and ghosts.
I’m scared of the dark, and when I think of running, I’m scared of getting lost in the forest. I’m scared of what my dad will say when you push him again tomorrow.
I’m scared that he won’t care. I’m scared of tomorrow in general.
Hell, I think I fear all tomorrows, since you’re the one who planned them out without me.
And I’m alone in this house, where nobody likes me and everyone is just barely feeding me and wishing I would go away so that a man they all love can be returned.
So just do me a favor and watch me sleep tonight so that I’m less scared. You think you can do that?”
Endo pushes off the door, but stops. He stares at the floor and puts his hands on his hips, shaking his head. He curses before he approaches the bed. “Yeah, luv, I can do that. But the issue is, I can only watch you for a little bit before I have to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t control the urge to fuck you.”
Silence.
Neither of us is breathing.
I’ve no thoughts. None. Zero.
“If you’re expecting me to reply to that, you’ll be standing there all night. I have nothing to offer.”
“When you ask me to stay, are you toying with me?” he asks.
“No.”
“If I stay, I want you to do something for me.”
“I’m afraid to ask what.”
“No need to ask.” Endo walks to the foot of the bed. He pulls the comforter. I grab it and hold on for dear life.
“When I asked you to stay, I thought you would sit in the chair,” I explain.
“You don’t get to choose where I stay when I decide to stay. I’m here on my own terms.”
“Which are?”
“You’ll come on my tongue.”