5. Cian
Cian
O pening my laptop, I checked on Skylar a short time later. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest, muttering. Her gaze was flying all over the room. I knew Sean was correct—she was looking for the camera.
She’d never find it. Sean was too good at surveillance.
I hadn’t lied to her. The camera was only directed at that side of the room.
I could redirect it if I wanted to look at the other side, but I hadn’t done that.
Short of turning her body into liquid and pouring herself through the filter of the air conditioner, she had no way of getting out of that room.
The bathroom wasn’t monitored, but there was no way to get out of it either unless she tunneled through the drain.
Which I wouldn’t put it past her to try.
Regardless of what she thought, we did have morals. The only reason I kept an eye on her was for her safety.
She stood suddenly and bolted forward, pushing the small armchair out of view of the camera.
I waited a few minutes, then carefully rolled the lens and began to chuckle when I found her again.
She had shoved the chair right into the opposite corner, sitting in it proudly.
Her legs were drawn up, her head resting on her hands.
I had no doubt if she thought she could move the bed, she would do the same thing.
Her message was clear. I’d told her I couldn’t see that side of the room.
Stop looking at me.
With a sigh, I rolled the lens back into place. I could give her that.
For now.
I entered her room a little while later. She was still in the corner, book in hand. She glared at me when I walked in, her gaze following me as I approached.
Silently, I set the coffee and cupcakes on the table in front of her. Turning, I walked to the bed and sat down. We stared at each other for a minute. “You moved your chair.”
“I like my privacy.” She sniffed. “If I can believe what you said and you’re not watching me all the time.”
“I’m not. If you want your chair there, it’s fine.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Sean saved you some cupcakes.”
“Hmph.”
I quirked my eyebrow at her. “Do I need to take a bite of one?”
“No.”
“You trust me now?”
“I’m tired of sharing your germs.” She wrinkled her nose. “God knows where that mouth of yours has been. I’ll take my chances.”
My lips twitched. “Okay, then.”
“I looked for the camera.”
I was surprised at her admission.
“Did you find it?”
“Duh, fuckwit. If I had, I would have ripped it out of the wall.”
I tilted my head at her. “Who said it was in the wall?”
She grimaced, and I knew she’d been fishing.
“It’s there for your safety. I don’t spy on you or watch you in the bathroom.”
She turned her head. “Whatever.”
I slapped my hands on my thighs.“ Hey. ”
She looked at me. I leaned forward, meeting her eyes. “ I don’t . And rest assured, if the camera was on and you were anything less than decent, I would shut it off.” I straightened. “Your safety.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I will until you believe it.” I sighed. “Keep your chair in the corner if you want. Enjoy your privacy. We’ll still come in and check on you.”
“Fine. I’m going to sleep soon anyway. You can’t see me in the dark either.”
I decided not to correct her misconception. Instead, I stood and walked to the door. “Eat your cupcakes. Sean got them special for you.”
She snorted. “I figured.”
I stopped, my hand on the handle. “Oh?”
She rolled her eyes. “You guys don’t seem like the cupcake sort.”
“What sort do we seem like?”
“I dunno—donuts, maybe?”
“That’s copper food.”
“Oh, right. Well, whatever hit-men-for-hire eat.”
“Pie.”
“Pie?”
“We hit-men-for-hire like pie.”
“Any particular kind?”
“Blueberry.” I grinned. “You gonna make me one, Kitten?”
She rolled her eyes again. “Only if I can find some strychnine,” she muttered.
I laughed all the way down the hall.
Skylar
His laughter faded away, and I sighed in relief.
Cian—Tony…whatever his real name happened to be—was far too overwhelming.
His very presence made me nervous, and if I was honest with myself, not just because I knew he had a gun.
I hadn’t seen it in his hand since the first day, although I was pretty sure it was tucked into the back of his pants.
There was something about him that caused flutters in my stomach and made my throat dry every time he stepped into the room.
When he’d winked at me earlier, I swore my heart skipped a beat, and before I could stop myself, I had smiled at him.
The look he gave me when I did was so… joyful , I had to drop my eyes to my plate.
Why would he really care if I smiled at him?
And his laughter—it was infectious. His already handsome face became even more so when his eyes crinkled and his smile grew wider.
It made me want to laugh with him, which only made me madder at the whole situation.
I should be scared to death and doing everything I could to cooperate.
He made me nervous, but I wasn’t frightened of him the way I should be.
Instead, I fought him, covering my nerves with bravado.
He found my attitude amusing for some reason, which further irritated me, so I retaliated by pushing his buttons.
His green eyes would flash when I started arguing with him, his entire body becoming tense as his hands gestured wildly and his voice became louder.
He often tugged on his hair in vexation, as he tried to convince me to accept his word that he had only brought me here to be safe.
His voice was so sincere at times, I almost believed him.
Many times, I fought the compulsion to pull his hands away from his head and soothe his poor scalp with my fingers.
His face was rugged and handsome, but not in the conventional way.
He had a scar that ran along the side of his head by his hairline.
His jaw was covered in scruff, and it highlighted his mouth, his lips soft-looking in comparison to the rest of his face.
It was all angles and rough edges, his forehead high and his cheekbones sharp.
He had a mole by his mouth. His teeth were slightly crooked.
His nose had obviously been broken at some point.
Yet all his flaws made him even more appealing to me.
Which wasn’t good.
I shook my head. I needed to stop romanticizing the man I’d watched murder someone and then take me against my will. Regardless of what he said his reasons were, he was dangerous—on so many levels.
I was in more danger here than when I was out on the street. I was certain of this. At some point, he’d decide he was tired of me or I had fulfilled my usefulness—whatever that happened to be.
And it frightened me, wondering what he would do with me then. I had to get away and disappear.
I stared at the door, noticing that with the light shining behind it, I could see the outline of the entrance.
With a start, I realized Cian hadn’t flipped the top lock.
I went over quietly, testing the door handle.
It was locked from the outside, but as I studied it, I knew I could remove the handle from this side and pop the flimsy lock.
I could get out. My mind raced. I had seen the keys to the car Sean drove on the kitchen counter earlier.
If I got out, I could steal it and be gone before they knew.
Drive to the closest town and get help. I returned to the chair, pulling my knees up to my chin in case they were watching.
I had to plan. Cian had taken my cuticle file, but I still had a small broken nail file in the lining of my bag. It would work.
Cian
A noise woke me, and instantly, I was on high alert.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, listening. For a moment, there was nothing, and then I heard it.
A low sound—a small squeak of some sort.
I couldn’t identify it right away, and carefully I slid from the bed, focusing my gaze on Skylar’s door.
At first, I saw nothing, then I noticed the door handle turning.
I watched as it happened again, the soft noise repeating—almost soundless, more like a low vibration.
I stepped back into my room, opening the camera in Skylar’s room and redirecting the lens.
She was in front of the door, kneeling, working frantically on the handle.
Picking the lock, I realized.
I suddenly recalled leaving her room earlier.
I didn’t remember flipping the upper lock.
She must have noticed and decided to attempt to escape.
I was about to storm across the hall and stop her when curiosity overcame me.
I suddenly understood Sean’s enjoyment of her inept attempts.
She fascinated me with the way her mind worked endlessly, always seeking opportunities.
Now that I was awake, she had zero chance of getting away, but I was interested to see her plan.
I slid back into bed just as I heard the low rasp of the door opening.
The house was still again, aside from the grumbling noises coming from Sean’s room.
He was going to be disappointed he missed this one.
I heard her steps. Careful. Measured. Almost silent. Heading toward the kitchen. I listened carefully, the sound of metal moving making me frown. Then I realized she had taken Sean’s keys. I tried not to laugh at her attempt of adding grand theft auto to her list.
A thought came to my head. Could she even drive? She had never mentioned it, and when I’d looked at her wallet, there had been no driver’s license.
My amusement grew, wondering how Sean would take his car being totaled. He was very fond of her, but he did like his car.