Chapter 39
One bed
Scarlett
Our suite has one bed.
Of course there’s only one. We are one couple.
Endo and I stand at opposite sides of the mattress, staring at it as if it’s a three-headed dragon that’ll spit fire and eviscerate us if we lie on it. We’re being ridiculous. I lie down with my back against the headboard and stretch out my legs.
Following my lead (that’s a first for him!) Endo throws the black duffel I rummaged through in the dungeon on the love seat and hangs his holster over the spare chair, then joins me on the bed.
We sit there with our backs against the headboard, staring at the espresso-brown wooden shutters, behind which is a bathroom with a large, round tub and a walk-in shower.
Our bedroom reminds me of a modern spa. A gentle lavender fragrance envelops the room, which has off-white walls and an off-white love seat with decorative (also off-white) linen pillows. A ceramic matcha-green vase and the matching rug add gentle coloring to the design.
The timed air freshener whooshes as it refreshes the air in the room.
Sharing silence with Endo while lying on top of the fluffy bed sheets in our one bed is awkward. I wonder what he’s thinking about, but I refrain from asking.
“It smells nice here,” I say after a few minutes. I guess I feel the need to fill the silence with small talk.
Endo grunts.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He looks at me from the side. “Take a guess.”
“You’re not okay.”
Another grunt. He tilts his gaze toward the ceiling, then to the right. It feels oddly deliberate, like he’s signaling something. I follow his gaze and frown when I find nothing. Like I said, I don’t read gangster signs well, even when I try.
“We are being watched,” he says.
Ah. I sit up and look around. “Where? Why? That is…” I press my lips together so as not to sound utterly normal while protesting the violation of my privacy inside a mansion run by a murderer.
Endo smiles. “You can say it. Go on.”
“You’ll make fun of me.”
“I won’t. I want to know what you think.”
“That’s a violation of privacy. It’s wrong.” I walk around the bedroom and then the bathroom, trying to uncover the cameras. I see nothing. “Are you guessing, or do you actually see the cameras?”
“I see one, which tells me there are more.”
“How about the bathroom?” I ask as I check the upper corners.
“Probably near the mirror.”
I can’t see a thing. I pick up a lotion, pop the cap, and sniff. Lavender and citrus. Makes me think of clean sheets.
I hear Slada and one of the twins. She’s staying with us in the bedroom across the living room. I’m unsure where they’re sleeping.
I come out of the bathroom and lean against the decorative shutters separating the bedroom and the bathroom and facing the bed.
Endo yawns and rubs his face. “Remain inside the room for the next hour while Connor disables the cameras.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
I nod.
“You don’t want to argue about being trapped in here with me?”
“Better the devil I know than the one outside who gives me the creeps.”
“Good.” Endo tucks his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. His soul wants to sleep, but his mind won’t let him because he’s being watched and is in enemy territory. But I hope he can get some rest.
I tiptoe toward the door.
“Scarlett?”
“Hm?”
“What did we just agree on?”
“That I’ll stay in the suite while you nap.”
He shakes his head. “In the room. We agreed you would stay in the room.”
“I’ll leave the bedroom door open and sit on the sofa out there. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I can’t relax if you’re that far.”
The living room is right outside our bedroom and not far at all, but if time spent with this man has taught me anything, it’s knowing when I can negotiate with him and when I can’t. This isn’t negotiable.
“Okay.” I clear my throat. “Are we meeting with my dad?” I bite my lip, nervous about Endo’s answer. Massio thwarted Endo’s plans, and Endo’s not predictable enough for me to know what he’ll do now that his plans have been hijacked.
When he remains silent, I walk to the door and open it slightly to see Connor and Slada hunched over the computer. Connor looks up and gives me a thumbs-up.
My expression must signal confusion because he adds, “All set.”
“All set?”
“The cameras are fried,” he elaborates.
“Thank you.” I close the door.
Since I must remain in the room while Endo naps, I’ll use the tub. Bathing is better than biting my fingernails and pacing the room while anxiety over possibly not going home today rides me.
The bamboo and wooden finishes, along with the pale matcha-green towels and cloths, create a relaxing atmosphere. The low lights perfectly match the space. The contrast between this and the armed men guarding us outside is ironic.
Given my accommodations, I’m pretty sure I cracked the mystery of Massio’s place. Unlike Widow’s Keep, a fortress designed to withstand a siege and keep people out, Massio’s house keeps people within its walls. As far as prison accommodations are concerned, I’d say it’s top shelf.
I’m sure Endo doesn’t appreciate the space, but it could’ve been worse. I imagine Massio also has dungeons he could’ve forced us into.
I light all three candles near the bath and burn the incense provided. The light adjustment allows for a perfectly dim room, and I turn on the spa jets, which fill the tub with salt water.
When I used to get home from a long day at work, I would soak in a nice-smelling bubble bath and treat my skin with the finest lotions and salts. There’s something soothing and regenerating about using great-smelling products on your body after working twelve-, sometimes sixteen-, hour shifts.
The pressure to deliver quality care while also genuinely caring for people has always been a motivator for me.
Nonetheless, the work is tiring and stressful, like pretty much any other job.
Even the jobs people love to do require an energy output.
It’s just so much easier and more fulfilling when one gets paid for what one loves to do.
I squirt in walnut-and-lavender bubble bath. Once the tub fills with water and high-rising bubbles, I sit, lie back, and close my eyes. My body is getting divine treatment. I only wish my brain would rest.
But there’s no rest for the wicked. Endo is the wickedest of them all. Although for his sake and mine, I hope he’s out there napping like a lion in a meadow. I stayed in the room with him so he could sleep. He’s well aware that without me, he loses any negotiating power.
Without me, he will never recover his brother.
Without you, he’ll go for Charlotte.
Charlotte said he wouldn’t touch her because she’s complicated, with a husband and a child, but she doesn’t know Endo like I do. Endo will do anything to find his brother. He’s like a locked and loaded missile. Once deployed, the only way to take it down is by destroying it.
If I know this, his half brother must know it too. Massio will kill Endo. This is why Massio brought Endo here. I hope I’m wrong. I really do, because I don’t wish Endo dead. I think I might have feelings for him.
He’s so wrong for me.
So very wrong.
I slide my hand between my thighs and think about just how wrong it is to get turned on by your captor and all the wrong things he’d do to me if his mouth was where my fingers are right now.