23. Who Left a Dildo in My Bed #2
I stabbed at a piece of steak, wondering if I should say something to Liam, because I knew he’d want to be there for her, but the last thing I wanted was to betray Sara’s trust. Not to mention Liam would be hurt if it came from me anyway. What a mess.
I hoped maybe she was planning to tell him when she got here, but I honestly doubted it. So I bit my tongue and said nothing, knowing I was already showing up uninvited. There was a good chance that was going to blow up in my face anyway.
After lunch, I drove home, dropping Liam off at his family manor, and we ended up playing video games until the early hours of the morning.
The more we talked, I could tell Liam was still holding on for dear life, even though his relationship was clearly at an end.
I knew the timing of this impending breakup couldn’t have come at a worse time for him.
Losing his mom, working on his restaurant on top of his other responsibilities, attempting to maintain a long distance relationship, it was a lot by anyone’s standards.
“I’m just gonna sleep down here.” Liam said, half asleep on the couch already, and I realized that was his way of saying goodnight.
It’d taken all night, but he’d basically polished off the entire fifth of whisky by himself.
Now the empty bottle was shoved between the couch cushions next to him, as he slung an arm over his eyes, hiding the damp on his cheeks.
“You know where to find me if you need anything.” I sighed, getting my stuff together. As I headed towards the entry, I realized the house looked a little empty. “Hey, where is all the furniture? All the paintings?” I asked, poking my head back into the living room.
“That is a great fucking question.” Liam scoffed, but didn’t open his eyes. “You should see upstairs.” Odd.
I hummed a nod, chewing on that for a minute. “Alright, well, I’ll see you later.”
Liam waved a hand, eyes still closed, and I wandered through the corridor and let myself out the front door, locking it behind me.
On the short walk over to my estate, I mulled over how empty the Devereux manor had felt, hollow, like the life itself had been sucked right out of it. Kinda felt like my family manor. Devoid of life.
It was drizzling outside when the sound of a car engine coming up the wide street made me look over my shoulder.
I watched as Brad Devereux slowly crept into the courtyard and then parked diagonally, halfway across the lawn of the estate.
He didn’t even bother pulling around to the garage—just parked right on top of the landscaping, and then I realized why.
He stumbled out of the car, clothes rumpled and wandered back to the garage entrance on foot.
He was drunk . Plastered, by the looks of it. Damn it.
No wonder Sara and Liam were having such a hard time. They’d lost their mother, and their father was pulling this shit. Lost in his own grief, no doubt.
My shoes crunched over the crushed stone as I crossed through the moonlit courtyard.
Liam and Sara had lost their mom, and I’d lost…
I didn’t even know what I’d lost. Charlotte had been the only motherly figure I’d had left after my own mother had died.
If Charlotte hadn’t stepped up, I honestly didn’t know where I’d be.
There were lots of people I was grateful for but she’d kept my freezer stocked with lasagna for four years straight, and in the early years she’d even taught me how to drive—refused to let my hired driver be the one to help me get my practice hours.
The memory made me smile, she was the reason the three of us had a lead foot.
Her words echoed in my mind, if you’re going to drive fast, then you’d better know what the hell you’re doing.
That night at Thanksgiving, I felt like Charlotte had known how I felt about Sara—but now, I’d never know for sure, and wondering about it was pointless. She was gone, and there was no bringing her back.
For me, this was par for the course though. Just when it felt like I was getting my feet back underneath me, figuring out how to do life, everything would always shift. Again. Maybe that’s what life was, always adapting. I didn’t know. I craved the mundane while simultaneously craving anything but.
I let myself inside the manor, and my footsteps echoed on the marble as I crossed through the formal entryway to climb the sweeping staircase towards the living quarters.
I didn’t take a second look as I passed my parents’ wing of the house.
It’d been closed off for years now, and I knew what I’d see, canvas covered furniture and depressing, empty space.
Trudging down my wing of the house, it felt awfully dark, and I did a double take as I passed a narrow table in the hallway, swearing there used to be a lamp on it.
But maybe not. I shook my head, lost in my thoughts, but when I finally stepped into my bedroom, I went on high alert, realizing immediately that something felt off.
I’d showered after I’d gotten home from the Rosewood Athletic Club, but I’d been in a rush. Now, standing at the threshold of my bedroom, I was starkly aware that someone had been in here.
My pulse spiked, senses sharpened, wondering if this was some sort of trap. The Society had been the one to lure me home after all.
My eyes fell to my bed across the room, noticing it was slightly mussed, as if someone had slept there. I cautiously approached, and as I pulled back the rumpled sheets, I half expected to find a poisonous snake, but that’s not what I found at all.
I stood there dumbfounded.
There was a fucking dildo in my bed. I looked around the room, utterly perplexed as I found everything else perfectly in place. The fuck? I shook my head, realizing it had to be a prank. Liam probably, though when he’d had the time, I had no idea. I snapped a picture of it and texted it to him.
Haha very funny.
Liam
Listen, I’m all for sexting, but I typically prefer it to be with the person I’m fucking.
This wasn’t you????
Not a chance in hell.
Let me know when you figure it out
Fucking hilarious.
I wouldn’t touch if I were you. Might have been used.
I scratched my head as I stared at the massive rubber dick in my bed, wondering who the fuck had put it there.
It was pink, sparkly, and veiny. I shook my head, and fished the thing out of my sheets with a tissue before heading to the ensuite for a shower.
I’d solve this mystery tomorrow, when I wasn’t deliriously exhausted.
Soon, the bathroom was filled with steam, and my hands were braced against the stone wall as I stood under the rainfall shower, letting the scalding droplets pelt over my back.
I was basically sleeping standing up, but as I stood under the hot water, I could have sworn I heard something downstairs.
I brushed it off, wondering if I was imagining things in my exhaustion.
A minute later, there was a much closer thump .
I quickly shut the water off and listened—there was no doubt in my mind now. Someone was in the house, and they were already upstairs by the sound of it.
My heart thundered in my chest, knowing my gun was in the safe.
Another thump . In the bedroom .
Shit.
They’d put me in the hospital, and this time, I was sending someone to the morgue. With nothing but my bare fists and determination, I charged into the bedroom, adrenaline pumping through me like a freight train.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my attacker—to my utter shock and confusion, the small intruder swaying in my bedroom doorway was none other than my darling Sara.
Her dripping wet hair clung to her rosy cheeks, and nestled in all that gorgeous thick hair was a pair of little black cat ears that sparkled as they caught the light.
My eyes flared as I took in the rest of her, soaked to the bone, wearing nothing but a sheer slip dress that clung to every forbidden curve that I knew—would lead me straight to salvation and then to hell.
Temptation didn’t even begin to cover it. I was so completely and utterly fucked .