Chapter 25
Mia
The single headlight of a motorcycle in my rearview mirror as I drive back to Aiden’s house after a good long session with Briggs tells me I’m being followed.
I can’t see the bike clearly; it’s already dark, but I know it’s been with me since I exited the bridge on Grayson Island.
It’s been almost a week since Aiden made me come home with him, and in those seven days, having a bike trail me has become the norm.
I even had a watcher when Libby and I went to a diner near Lavish on our break the other night.
The first morning, I woke up to see my car in the driveway, brought here from Lavish, and my key ring on the counter, holding only my car key.
Of course, he kept my house key. Although Aiden was nowhere to be found, bags full of clothing sat on the kitchen table.
All of it in my size, brand-new with tags.
The fridge and pantry were stocked full of food.
He was gone most of the first two days. Club business, Roz said.
And in the brief moments I have seen him, he has told me nothing beyond that he’ll get Roz and a prospect to take me to my house to pick up my belongings.
Yet I still don’t know when that will happen.
Whatever it is that’s pulled him away, he’s a vault and shares nothing.
At least it’s allowed me time for more snooping.
Not that I’ve gotten anywhere. Aside from the unlocked case of various poisons that scream predator, I have no better insight into who he really is than when I first arrived, and no indication he’s the other man who was there with Nic either, because his house is an empty tomb.
I can’t figure out how someone could have nothing personal in their home.
Every day, I’m more and more conflicted about whether I’m on the right track.
And Dagger hasn’t come back to the club. I’m almost convinced Aiden has overreacted, and Dagger’s forgotten all about me.
Each day, when I wake up, Aiden is gone. I go to work, and he arrives at the end of my shift and follows me home on his bike. And then he’s gone again, to his side of the house, or outside, fuck if I know. I know he’s here, but we don’t interact.
This is an arrangement. He made that painfully clear the first night when he taught me a lesson about trying to fight him. I mostly stay in my room at night, passing out after my shower, and if I happen to come out for water or food, he’s nowhere to be found.
So, color me completely shocked when I come into the house tonight to find Aiden in the kitchen, cooking.
He’s relaxed, wearing black sweats and a fitted black T-shirt. His feet are bare on the hardwood floor, and his cut is nowhere in sight.
“Well, this is…new,” I observe, setting my purse down.
“What’s on Grayson Island?” he asks, ignoring my comment as the smell of Italian food wafts through the kitchen, making my stomach grumble. Oregano, garlic, parmesan. I’m starving.
So, it was one of his men. There’s relief in knowing it was a Disciple, and I marvel at that reality. A month ago, a Disciple following me would have been a cause for fear, not relief. “You’ve barely spoken to me, and you’ve obviously been tracking me. Why do you care what’s there?”
“I don’t trust you any more than you trust me. Answer the question,” he commands, and there’s an underlying warning in his voice. One that could mean he knows I’ve been snooping.
“Why do you care?” I repeat.
Aiden drains the pasta in the sink, then turns to face me. “Just because I asked you a question doesn’t mean I care. I need to make sure you aren’t doing something that will cause problems for me. You’re living in my home.”
I realize he isn’t going to let up, but it still pisses me off. Apparently, he tells me nothing but expects me to tell him everything.
“Family is there,” I offer.
“What kind of family?”
I fold my arms over my chest as I contemplate. The only way to get him off my back is to give him something plausible.
“Over the last couple years, I’ve had this fear of being attacked.” True. “My father had a friend who teaches self-defense. He’s like family to me. Like an uncle. He’s on Grayson Island.”
“So, he taught you the moves you tried on me the other night?” He doesn’t look up from where he’s mixing pasta with sauce, and his perfectly rugged face shows zero emotion.
“He teaches me self-defense, yes. I work with him a couple times a week. I wanted to be able to take care of myself if I needed to.”
Aiden takes me by surprise when the corners of his lips turn up in a smirk as his gaze meets mine. Fuck, he’s infuriatingly beautiful.
“For when you try to choke out your boss, but fail miserably?”
My mouth falls open. Was that a joke?
I watch as he carefully plates our food. It’s tortellini, and I’ll admit it looks incredible.
“I chose not to.” I test the waters further. “It’s obvious there’s a little bit of a sadist in you. Wouldn’t want to, ya know…entice you into tearing me apart.”
His eyes harden as he sets my plate down on the table. Guess the moment is over.
“Entice? Or fucking annoy?” he says, pulling out two forks.
I can see the lie in his eyes. I remember the way he looked at me, gripping his cock before he left my room.
“Eat. And next time you go to Grayson, you tell me. That’s a long drive. Anyone could be following you. It wouldn’t surprise me if they already have.”
“Like Dicky?”
“It wasn’t Dicky I sent. It was Raef.”
I can’t understand why he’d put someone as important as Raef on my tail. Why not a prospect?
He picks up his plate and leaves the kitchen. Off to his dark lair, I assume.
Fucking whiplash. Almost human one moment to solid brick wall the next. He won’t find out much about Briggs even if he looks. Briggs is off the grid, a steel trap, and the property is owned by a numbered corporation.
I take a bite of the pasta, looking out toward the river. A sigh of contentment slips out as I chew. Goddamn, it’s so good.
I shovel more in as I consider my next move. I’ve been here for almost a week, and in his circle for over two, and I’ve gotten no more information, despite living in his house.
Aiden is a closed book. But since I’ve been here, I’ve obeyed all his rules.
Maybe I need to switch things up in order to knock out the first icy block of his carefully built wall.
Starting with a nice hot shower and a drink from the bottle of very expensive bourbon sitting on his counter.
Tonight, I won’t be staying in my room like a good little prisoner.