Chapter Six
Caius
I tense at her words.
Wait, nanny?
Several things click together all at once.
“We have to go,” I snarl, no longer interested in watching this argument. “Now.”
Romy nods emphatically, jerking herself out of my hold to head for the door. I don’t spare Gideon a second glance as I hurry to catch up with her. She slips out the front door and by the time I make it to the hallway, she’s almost to the elevators, forcing me to run to catch up to her. When the elevator doors open, we both rush inside.
I yank my phone out of my pocket the second she pushes the lobby level button, texting my baby brother. He doesn’t respond after several texts, which makes my anxiety heighten. Romy wipes away her tears with her sleeves, drying away any sadness along with it. In its place is determined resolve. Her shoulders are squared and anger twists her features into something dark but beautiful. Needing to touch her, if only to calm my own nerves, I clasp my hand on the back of her neck. She shudders as my thumb strokes the side of her neck.
“I knew it,” she mutters under her breath. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.”
I don’t berate her for not saying anything until now. Gideon, through means not as successful as our CUP program, tried to brainwash her. He’d hoped to erase what’d happened to her by taking away her memories. It’s no different than what I’d tried to do with her about Gareth’s rape. Disgust seeps into my pores. For someone who uses these people to find my poor, most-likely abused sister, I sure have become one of them.
Calista would be horrified by who I’ve become.
I try not to think of my sister, but my mind drifts to LuLu on Solomon’s yacht. Even if I’d wanted to help her, what could I have done? It would have blown apart everything for me. Calista would have no hope after that. But LuLu may’ve been someone’s sister. What if they’re out looking for her as we speak?
The elevator doors reopen, depositing us into the lobby. As much as I want to dwell on what a bad fucking human I am, I push that down to deal with later. We have more pressing issues at hand.
Outside, the valet has kept our rental near the front like I’d paid him to do. After I pass him another handful of cash, he hands over the keys and we’re gone—away from the place she calls home.
Traffic is a nightmare and I find myself cursing. Romy leans over, reaches her hand into my jacket where I’ve stored her phone, and retrieves it. The passenger side lights up as she attempts calling someone, presumably Theo. When she can’t reach him, she hisses and then starts rapid-fire texting.
Come on. Come on. Come on.
“Call your dad,” she says, voice strained. “Siri, call Orion.”
“I have Siri disabled for security reasons,” I grunt. “We’re almost there. It’ll take too long to explain to him anyway.”
Within minutes, we arrive at the hotel. After a quick exchange with the valet there, we take another elevator, this one to the level where we’ve booked several suites. As we pass the hotel bar, I see Theo and Dad inside, yapping with a pretty brunette. I have the urge to throw my phone at Theo’s head but decide against it.
Inside the elevator, Romy bounces on her toes, nervously wringing her hands together. I crack my neck, a habit I sometimes do when I’m pissed. She side-eyes me quickly before going back to watching the level numbers change with each floor we go up.
Almost there.
The second the doors open, she flies out of them. I race after her. When she reaches one of the suite doors and is about to start pounding on it, I grab her arm, jerking her back. Furious rage contorts her beautiful features, but I don’t give a damn. I’d like the element of surprise here.
I flip open one of my apps and hold my phone over the door. The lock disengages immediately. Romy, if surprised by my ability to easily access a room I don’t have a key for, says nothing. I push open the door, bracing myself for the worst.
Two heads whip my way, both of them wearing shocked expressions. A matching game sits between them and a huge bowl of popcorn beside it. Everything seems normal. Completely normal. I’m starting to second-guess things, but the fiery woman behind me shoves past me, still emanating with fury.
“You,” Romy hisses, pointing down at where Vivienne sits. “You sick bitch.”
She rears back her hand and smacks Vivienne hard on her cheek. The woman cries out in shock mixed with pain. Kaitlyn starts to cry. Her crying is what has Romy faltering. It gives me enough time to pull her away from the nanny.
“Get her out of here, Caius,” Romy says, struggling in my hold. “Get her the fuck away from that little girl!”
We’ve done a lot to Romy, but I’ve never seen her so enraged. After learning that her nanny molested her, I understand her anger. Whether or not Vivienne’s done anything to Kaitlyn is to be determined. Still, I’m not taking any chances.
“Pack your stuff,” I say to Vivienne. “You’ll receive pay through the rest of the month. Leave a forwarding address at the front desk and we’ll mail you your items from the cabin back home.”
Vivienne has the gall to appear confused. As if this is all some misunderstanding.
“I’m sorry,” Vivienne says in a soft, innocent tone. “Am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?”
The way she lies so easily and believably makes my skin crawl.
“You’ve been let go,” I state coldly. “Time to leave.”
Vivienne, whose cheek is bright red from Romy’s slap, climbs to her feet, hugging her middle. “But I’m good at my job,” she croaks, eyes pleading. “Please. I need this job. Where else will I go?”
“To Hell,” Romy hisses. “People like you go to Hell.”
A flash of irritation sparks in Vivienne’s eyes, but she quickly hides it away. “I truly am sorry if I did anything to offend you all.”
“You’re lucky all you got was a slap,” Romy says, helping Kaitlyn to her feet. “You deserve a lot worse.”
Romy ushers Kaitlyn out of the room and into the bedroom, then slams the door behind her. Vivienne, a woman at least twenty years my senior, bats her lashes at me and gives me her best pitiful expression. It does nothing for her case.
What I want to know is why Dad recommended her to be Kaitlyn’s nanny? She had a good track record, otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed her into our world. Right? Or maybe there’s something more sinister behind his actions.
As much as I want to dissect all this, now’s not the time.
“You remember Romy?” I ask, voice cold. “How long did it go on for? Have there been more?” I grit my teeth. “Kaitlyn?”
The irony isn’t lost on me that I forced Gareth to get a nanny to avoid what’d happened with Emma, only for the nanny to probably have done the same shit to Kaitlyn.
This woman, well-versed on playing the innocent caretaker, shakes her head in vehemence as if my words are offensive to her.
“W-What? I’ve only just met your girlfriend. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Having been in the business of mind control for over a decade, I know people. I know their tells, their lies, their truths, their attempts at manipulation. I know it all. I can read them easily, like one of my beloved books in my office. This woman thinks she’s slick. Now that I’m looking for it, I can see straight through her. She’s nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A snake in my motherfucking garden.
“If you leave now, you’ll save yourself a lot of unnecessary trouble,” I bite out, pointing at the door. “This act of yours won’t work.”
She remains planted in place, her eyes narrowing as she internally weighs her options. Then her lips curl into a frown. I watch, arms crossed over my chest, as she snatches up her purse by the door.
“My clothes?” she asks, refusing to look at me. “They’re in the room.”
The room she was sharing with my damn niece.
“They’ll be at the front desk. You can collect them in the morning. I don’t care where you go for the night, but make sure it’s not within fifty feet of this building.”
“Wow,” she mutters. “After all I’ve seen and put up with in this family. And I’m discarded like trash?”
Her veiled threat that she’ll reveal any secrets of ours she knows goes ignored. Once I deep dive into this woman’s life and finish picking it apart, she won’t be able to find a job ever again, much less with children. She’s finished as far as I’m concerned. Threatening me will only make things worse on her.
She shoulders the strap of her purse, stalking to the door, but stops abruptly to swivel around to face me. “You know,” she spits out in a nasty, cruel tone, “I’d be careful believing the word of a crazy girl.”
I don’t speak, only lift one eyebrow in question.
She purses her lips and then sighs. “Look. Gareth told me all about the poor girl. About how Romy is psychologically unwell. I was told, under no uncertain circumstances, to ever let her within three feet of his daughter. And now you’re sending me away while that woman keeps her locked in that room with his sweet little girl?”
Her attempts at making me doubt Romy are pathetic.
“You know Romy Langston,” I state, watching every tiny twitch of her muscles or any slightest movement of her eyes. “You knew her until you got caught. They sent you away.”
Vivienne’s expression darkens as her lip curls up in disgust. But rather than confirming or denying my words, she turns on her heel and slips out the door in an instant. As soon as it clicks closed behind her, I exhale heavily. My heart is racing in my chest and I’m overcome with defeat.
Why do I feel like a failure right now?
You couldn’t save Calista from the system she disappeared into. You couldn’t save Emma from her own father. You couldn’t save Romy from your brother. You couldn’t save Kaitlyn from a child predator.
Maybe that’s why I’m a bad guy and not a good one.
Good guys have too much fucking pressure to perform.
I scrub my palm over my face, noting that my hand is shaking. Ignoring the jitters I have, I retrieve my phone and make the necessary arrangements with the hotel concierge concerning Vivienne and her belongings. Then I force myself to check on Kaitlyn.
Would things have been better on her had I not made Dad intervene and get a nanny? Gareth was unbelievably pissed when he found out that was a requirement before Dad would allow him to adopt again. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was saving a little girl from alone time with a monstrous father. I’d unknowingly put her in the arms of another one.
The bedroom door opens and Romy steps out. Her sharp gaze inspects the living room area and she relaxes once she realizes Vivienne is gone.
“Kaitlyn okay?” I ask, voice gruff.
Romy purses her lips as she strides over to me. Her fingers dig into my bicep as she tilts her head up to look at me. “She will be. I’ll talk to her about it with time. Right now, she’s been sent to take her shower and get ready for bed.”
“Okay,” I say with a tired sigh. “I’ll get on searching for a new nanny.”
She scoffs at my words. “Are you for real right now?”
Frowning, I wait for her to continue.
“No more nannies,” Romy snaps. “When we go back home, she’s moving in with us. End of discussion.”
Home. Us.
Her protectiveness over Kaitlyn soothes an ache inside my chest. I’m starting to recognize a pattern with Romy. She cares about helping girls who may be suffering from abuse or maltreatment, from her roommate, Megan, to the girl LuLu from the yacht, to my niece, Kaitlyn.
Who protects Romy from all the predators of the world?
Apparently, that’s my role.
And I don’t exactly hate it.