Chapter 6 Motion to Suppress #2
He glances up and down the corridor, half-expecting another of Tillie’s restless after dark creaks, then curls his fingers around the knob and twists it.
Locked. Of course. He presses lightly, testing it again just to be sure. No give.
A low sigh escapes him. “Would’ve been too easy,” he whispers to himself.
He catches his distorted reflection in the brass. He is utterly disheveled, not exactly the picture of stealth. “Should’ve brought the damn pick,” and leans in to study the lock anyway.
“Curiosity can be an expensive habit, Mr. Grayson.”
Theo turns sharply, breath catching as he jerks toward the sound, heart kicking against his ribcage before his brain can catch up.
Giles stands at the end of the hall, half in shadow, posture immaculate, hands clasped behind his back. It’s impossible to tell how long he’s been there—or how he got there without a sound.
Theo schools his expression into something neutral. “Didn’t mean to intrude. Thought it might be a way out to the drive. I left something in the car.” He pauses, then adds dryly, “Is there a preferred route for guests?”
Giles steps closer, unhurried. “That door doesn’t lead outside.” His tone is measured, final. “You won’t find what you’re looking for down there. And there’s no need to trouble yourself with the cold.” His eyes, pale and assessing, catch the dim light. “I can fetch sleeping pills for you.”
Theo is unsettled. “That obvious?”
Giles doesn’t answer right away, and Theo’s suspicion sharpens.
The man must’ve been eavesdropping, lurking just out of sight while he spoke with Tillie.
Wouldn’t surprise him. Maybe Giles is the reason she can’t sleep at all, the so-called presence that keeps the halls creaking and her nerves on edge.
He turns and gestures for him to follow. “This way.”
Theo hesitates, just long enough to weigh his options. He decides that making an enemy of one of the house staff in the middle of the night isn’t worth it, then follows.
The kitchen is dark except for the under-cabinet lights, gleaming faintly off polished marble and chrome. Everything is too clean.
Giles moves smoothly, all confidence and routine, opening a high cabinet and retrieving a small amber bottle. The label is faded.
He sets it on the counter, then fills a glass from the sink. “Two should do.”
Theo takes the bottle, turns it over in his hand. No name. No dosage. Just trust. Something he’s not known for. “Appreciate it,” he says, though he is not sure it sounds convincing.
The refrigerator hums softly beside him. It’s a sleek, black smart model with a digital display glowing faint blue. It looks out of place among the older fixtures, too modern, too knowing. A red notification blinks: Recording inactive—restart recommended.
Giles follows his gaze. “New addition,” he says.
Theo hums. “Of course.”
He shakes two pills into his hand. Giles watches him closely. There’s no pretending this isn’t a test.
Theo forces a small nod, tips the pills into his mouth, and lifts the glass. He swallows—or at least pretends to. The tablets press against the inside of his cheek, bitter and chalky.
Giles’s gaze doesn’t waver. “All better, then?”
Theo sets the glass down. It clinks against the counter top. “Soon, hopefully.”
For a moment, he’s half-convinced Giles will ask him to open his mouth and say ahhh, just to prove he swallowed them.
Instead, the butler inclines his head, his response smooth and final.
“Good night, Professor Grayson. I suggest you stay in your room for the remainder of the evening. The house tends to creak when disturbed. Mrs. Mayfair needs her rest, and she doesn’t take kindly to unexpected noises. ”
Theo nods, because it’s easier than telling Giles he doesn’t think Mrs. Mayfair is the type to not take kindly to things. He leaves the kitchen, the faint hum of the fridge following him out the door, the pills still dissolving bitterly against the inside of his jaw.
The hallway feels longer on the way back.
He walks quickly, though not enough to seem hurried, the soft soles of his house shoes making no sound on the polished floor.
Even without looking, he can feel Giles’s gaze on him.
He doesn’t expect to find anything, but glances once over his shoulder anyway.
Nothing. Just an empty hall and flickering light.
After climbing the stairs, he shuts their bedroom door behind him and heads straight for the bathroom.
The click of the lock sounds loud in the quiet.
He leans over the sink and spits the half-dissolved pills and their remnants into the basin, runs the tap, and rinses his mouth until the bitter taste is gone.
He spits again, watching the foam swirl down the drain.
When he’s sure there’s no trace left, he turns off the water and takes in as much air as possible before stepping back into the bedroom. Lila’s still asleep, her lithe body a faint rise and fall under the sheets. The sight of her knocks the breath from him, as usual.
He pulls his shirt off, drops it onto the chair, and climbs back into bed. He lies on his side, facing her, careful not to disturb her. In the dim light, he can see the outline of her face, the curve of her shoulder beneath the blanket.
He hopes she’ll forgive him if he’s right. Hopes, more than anything, that he isn’t. That there’s another answer—cleaner, better, one with a happier ending.
Theo stays there, staring at her, aching in a way he can’t name. He wants her. So, so badly.
Not just her body in this bed but her trust, her laugh, her future. Things he most definitely should not want.
If he’s wrong, maybe none of it matters. If he’s right—who really knows?
He shifts closer without touching, the space between them full of everything he wants to say to her. Her breathing stays steady, soft. She looks peaceful, and he clings to that for a moment, as if by watching her he can keep it true.
Eventually, with his eyes still on her, exhaustion drags him under—along with an unspoken knowing that things are about to turn volatile, and the unsettling realization that in this house, someone is always watching.
August: okay so i’m watching law & order and i have QUESTIONS
August: if a lawyer sleeps with a witness, does that automatically void the case or just make it extra spicy
August: follow-up: what if the lawyer didn’t KNOW they were a witness yet
August: follow-follow-up: how illegal is it to break into your ex’s office to get the truth out of them (asking for the episode, not me)
August: also WHY do tv lawyers drink whiskey alone in their offices with bright overhead lighting are there no lamps in new york city
Theo: No.
August: oh my GOD, he LIVES look who finally decided to rejoin civilization
Graham: He probably just woke up.
August: uh huh sure or maybe he’s been busy
Theo: Busy?
August: you know Busy with a capital B
Graham: August.
August: Don’t August me, you were thinking it too.
August: wait, THEO did you mean no as in there are no lamps
Theo: No, I mean none of that is legal. Any of it.
August: which part is the worst though
Theo: All of it, August. Every word you just sent is either unethical, inadmissible, or a felony.
Graham: Go make coffee and cross-examine your espresso machine instead.
August: fine, fine i just thought you two might want to weigh in on the moral complexities of televised adultery
Theo: At six in the morning?
August: it was six at night when I started typing
Graham: I woke up to forty-seven unread texts.
Theo: Impressive. Disturbing, but impressive.
August: finally, someone appreciates my dedication to justice
Graham: Dedication to fictional crime drama and unnecessary disorder*
August: says the man married to me
Theo: Remind me why I’m in this group chat again?
August: for educational purposes and because i like annoying hot men with doctorates.
Graham: Mission accomplished.
August: thank you