Chapter 14
“ W ould you quit,” my mom playfully reprimanded as Dad tried sneaking another bite of dinner, straight from the pot on the stove. Swatting at him with her free hand, she lifted the wooden spoon from the pot and silently threatened him with it, dripping homemade marinara sauce and all.
“I’m going,” he said placatingly, then stealthily dipped a torn piece of garlic bread into the sauce and backed away before she could hit him again.
With an irritated sigh that hinted at how much she adored him, she gave a roll of her eyes and focused on me again. “I just don’t understand why you left teaching in the first place.”
I tried not to show how still I went at the abrupt change in subject from her recounting her week— lunch with the girls and, oh, did I tell you about the deal I got on a chuck roast? —to this. A conversation that could turn very dangerous, very fast.
“You didn’t tell me about the deal,” I told her instead, trying to bring the conversation back to safer territory.
Her head listed to the side. “What deal?”
“That you got on the chuck roast.”
She stared blankly at me as if she truly had no memory of something she’d just been talking about before my dad had swooped in and started trying to eat straight out of the pot. But I knew she hadn’t really forgotten. She was just on a path I couldn’t let her stay on. “But you always wanted to be a teacher, Chloe.”
“Mom, we’ve been over this,” I began with a soft laugh that in no way revealed my worry for why she was trying to broach this topic again. “I didn’t love it anymore.”
“Yeah, honey, we’ve been over this,” my dad said, sarcastically coming to my defense around a mouthful of something or other—if I had to bet from Mom’s horrified reaction when she glanced his way, it was dessert. Mom’s famous triple chocolate cake.
Not that I’d seen it yet or even had to look, I just knew.
Every Thursday, we had Mom’s triple chocolate cake and spaghetti and meatballs. Both homemade and secret recipes she swore she was taking to her grave. Not that I minded. They were insanely delicious, but there was only so much chocolate cake and spaghetti and meatballs a person could have before they never wanted to see them again.
But, you know, it was how my parents had learned to cope...by turning into a real-life, Stepford-style simulation. One that did everything on a strict routine and never, ever faltered. So, I’d eat the food with a smile on Thursday nights, take the leftovers Mom always packaged up for me, and dump them as soon as I got home.
“If our little bookworm needed a change of pace, we need to encourage that,” my dad continued, this time without the mouthful of food. “Besides, she said she’s enjoying this new job. Right, Chlo?”
“Right,” I said with a determined nod, though I wasn’t exactly sure of that.
The first week had been close to miserable between struggling to figure out what I was actually supposed to do at Shadow Industries and obsessing over a man who made it clear he loathed me. And after the absolute nightmare that was Saturday, I’d returned on Monday, prepared for things to be awkward between Hudson and me, and for Adam’s hatred to burn even deeper.
However, Hudson was still as flirtatious as ever—as if he truly couldn’t help himself—and Adam’s silence over the past four days left me more anxious than his cruel words had the week before.
As if I hadn’t bared my shamed soul to Hudson just days before, he’d slipped up to my desk on Monday, easily passing off my cell phone to me with a wink as he’d started asking about my Doctor Who/Star Wars crossover shirt and what I was doing after work.
Adam had silently studied me when he’d come through minutes after, the anger in his conflicted eyes all but gone and confusing me all the more. I wasn’t sure if I’d expected him to start accusing me again or if I’d expected a forced apology, but I hadn’t expected the silent, contemplative study that had my heart racing and my body anxiously waiting for another glimpse of him.
But every morning so far this week, he’d simply walked in and studied me. Every evening, he’d left with a mumbled, “Night, Bubbles.”
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Again...I was painfully aware by this point that I had terrible taste in men, and I needed to get over my current fascination with my new, overly tattooed, distractingly well-built coworker. But these days were slowly driving me crazy as I vainly hoped for something from Adam Thatcher.
“Right,” I repeated to my parents again, shaking off thoughts of these two weeks at my new job, and glancing between them with that smile I’d perfected because of them. “I mean, honestly, it’s perfect. I’m working for Lainey’s fiancé, which is...”—I thought for only a second on what all to say because there was no way I could tell them Lainey’s fiancé could make hello sound terrifying—“it’s nice to work for someone I know and can trust, and the other employees all seem really great. Plus, Asher and I went over my income and benefits earlier this week, and it’s more than I ever could’ve dreamed of as a teacher.”
“See?” Dad said, once again coming to my aid, once again around a mouthful of food. Not that I blamed him. In preparation of this meal, he never ate on Thursdays, so he was always starving by dinnertime.
Mom still jokingly said he’ll learn as if she truly thought he might.
“Well, that’s something,” Mom conceded as she finally turned for the plates. “I just thought you loved teaching.”
I didn’t even let myself think the words I do because I knew I wouldn’t be able to continue lying to them the way I needed to.
Especially when my mom handed me a plate laden with food and casually said, “If you ask me, I think you still do. You just got confused in your feelings because that relationship you were so secretive of came to an end.”
“Honey,” my dad said in warning.
“This is why people shouldn’t be allowed to make big life decisions when they’re hurting,” she continued, ignoring when my dad repeated the warning a little firmer than before.
Even though my stomach had dropped at the mention of Owen, I kept my smile soft and with just the right amount of teasing when I asked, “Did I tell you Bruiser ended up on my porch this morning?” as I turned to grab salad and bread, easily redirecting the conversation to one my parents could never resist, since watching my neighbor chase his giant mastiff all around the street was usually the highlight of my dull week.
“Oh, that sweet baby,” my mom said on a light laugh. “Was your neighbor naked again?”
“Mom!” I choked out the word and looked from my dad to her, taking in their expectant expressions. “He usually has boxers on; he isn’t naked.” I hesitated before admitting, “He was pulling a shirt on as he ran this time...to go with his boxers.”
I felt my shoulders relax when my parents’ laughter spiraled into a remember when about some story I didn’t bother paying attention to. I couldn’t when I was so focused on keeping my breathing steady, even though the loosening of my chest begged me to sigh with relief. I couldn’t when I was grateful I’d escaped my mom’s questions about my leaving the school and my relationship with Owen.
Honestly, I was surprised my mom had brought up the latter at all. Before tonight, I’d been sure they’d forgotten about Chloe’s most-likely-fake-boyfriend . Not that I would’ve blamed them. By the time I’d finally told my parents I was seeing someone, months into my relationship with Owen, they’d been thrilled. A little too thrilled. I’d actually been slightly offended to find out my parents had worried I’d never meet anyone or marry.
Then again, self-sabotaging, hermit-y ways, and all that.
But even though Owen had always wanted to make sure no one in the school district found out, I think the part of me that had always been chilled to the point of nausea had known our relationship wasn’t something that should be shared.
That it was wrong.
So, I’d never even told my parents his name. With every question they’d peppered me with, I’d given the smallest details possible and evaded nearly everything else, saying I’m not ready . By the end, it’d been obvious they’d thought I was making the entire thing up.
And when the end did come, true to form, I’d done everything to keep my pain from them until I’d been able to flippantly mention we were over as if I wasn’t bothered by it.
They’d simply hummed in acceptance before continuing with the same spaghetti and meatballs we were about to eat.
But now my mom was bringing up the relationship and connecting it to my leaving teaching. She was sure I’d been hurting . And I knew from exhausting and crushing experience that wasn’t something my parents could handle, so I’d do anything to keep us from going down that road.
Sinking into my designated chair at the dining room table, I glanced at the place setting beside me that Mom always insisted on having, even though no one had filled it for nearly twenty years, then reinforced my smile as my parents followed me into the room. Mom was holding her signature glass of red wine; my dad was holding both their plates.
“Let’s eat,” he said with an appreciative groan as they took their chairs opposite me, where they would studiously avoid looking at me and the empty chair beside me for the entirety of the meal.
“Nerd.”
I lowered my book and smiled at Hudson as he sauntered into the office the next morning. Just as Adam caught the door before it could shut and pushed his way inside, Hudson added, “Thanks for last night,” in a way that heavily implied something happened, when absolutely nothing had.
My mouth popped open as golden eyes zeroed in on the heat racing into my cheeks. But the laughable denials and explanations gathered all at once and far too quickly, choking me as I worried over what Adam was making of Hudson’s words.
Not that it should matter. He couldn’t possibly hate me more than he already did, and I needed to get over this ridiculous crush anyway.
But it did . . .
Before I could manage even a sound, Hudson glanced at my shirt, then glanced to the side as if knowing Adam was watching the entire thing go down. A wicked smirk stole across his face as he murmured, “Nice shirt,” and left me to deal with Adam.
“You had dinner with Gray last night?” he asked before I could begin to untangle my jumbled thoughts.
A startled laugh forced from my lungs as I wondered how Adam had even found out about the food, or why Hudson would’ve wanted him—or any of them—to think last night was more than it was.
“What? No,” I finally managed to choke out. “I mean, I gave him food, but it wasn’t like that. I just know y’all have someone watching the house. But don’t worry,” I hurried to add when Adam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I haven’t told Lainey, and I won’t. Whatever reason Asher has for putting one of y’all there, I’m sure it’s for her best interest.”
I was also exceedingly thankful for it, considering I hadn’t been sleeping well ever since I’d woken up to the fake officer pounding on my door. Knowing one of the Shadow members had been watching the house had at least returned the sense of security that had been stolen from me that night.
“Anyway, I was coming home from having dinner with my parents,” I continued with my embarrassing ramble before Adam could speak, “and my mom always sends me with a ton of food that I never eat. So, I gave it to Hudson, but I would’ve given it to whoever was there, and I didn’t eat with him.”
Oh my gosh, Chloe, stop talking.
I wasn’t sure why it even mattered to me that Adam knew I hadn’t had some sort of date with Hudson the night before, or ever. And yet, words kept tumbling from my mouth. “I didn’t even really talk to him. I just handed him the food, told him to have fun on his lookout, and went inside. Alone.”
Oof, that was painful.
The first time Adam had spoken to me in nearly a week, and I’d just rambled like a complete dork.
“How long have you known we’ve had someone outside your house?” he asked, surprising me that he was still standing there, talking to me, and not walking away with an eye roll or a scoff.
One of my shoulders lifted as I wondered if I should be embarrassed for not realizing it sooner. “Saturday night. I saw Cameron when I was closing the blinds.”
He didn’t acknowledge my response in any way, just studied me a while longer before his stare fell to where my hands rested on top of my book. With a mumbled, “Bubbles,” he left for the main part of the office just as Mallory Monroe came strutting through the front door like she was walking down a runway.
A bright, albeit slightly surprised, “Hi,” burst from me, considering she’d only come in one day last week too.
Maybe she only worked Fridays.
But, where she’d looked at me like I was an alien last week, unsure of what to do with the new person in Ada’s chair, she just slowed her catwalk to look at me contemplatively then. Her stunning features taking on an understanding and sadness before she strode past me with a distracted, “Morning.”
The rest of the guys trickled in over the next ten minutes. Asher and Cameron gave their different versions of greetings, and Beau remained silent, as always. And once everyone was in, I went back to reading my current high fantasy novel until a courier came to deliver a slender cardboard mailer for Asher.
“Thank you,” I told the man as he pushed the door open with his back, winking at me as he did.
I repressed a shiver at the sight.
It wasn’t like Hudson’s winks, that were all playful flirtation and meant nothing. It also wasn’t like Owen’s—a subtle action that had clearly been practiced over a lifetime to make women swoon on sight. It was creepy.
Glancing at the envelope as I stood, I noted the red Urgent stamped across it and hurried out from around my desk and toward the main office, my clicking footsteps slowing when I realized no one was in there.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should wait or interrupt the meeting they had every morning, then decided I’d rather be reprimanded for interrupting than not delivering something that was time sensitive.
Heading in the direction of the conference room I’d only gotten a glimpse of last week, I worried my bottom lip as I wondered exactly how mad Asher Briggs was going to be when I entered. Then again, I’d never been told I couldn’t be at the meetings. I’d just assumed they weren’t for me, so I hadn’t even tried.
Maybe this would be how I found out if they were an everyone-minus-Chloe type of thing, or not.
With a steadying breath, I reached for the door just as a deep, grouchy voice from the other side sounded. “Chloe can’t know.”
I paused with my hand hovering over the metal handle, my eyes wide as I wondered if this was some kind of joke. It had to be...surely. There was no way they were actually talking about me in their meeting, especially right at the moment I walked up to the door. This sort of thing only happened in books!
“Agreed,” a feminine voice said—Mallory.
Someone scoffed and mumbled, “You would say that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped back.
“We all agree she can’t know,” another voice yelled when the other male started arguing with Mallory again. But this voice had my hand jerking away from the door as I imagined his conflicted stare and the distracting number of tattoos swirling down his tan arms.
“We’ve already seen enough evidence of what Vance has done and can do to Chloe,” Adam continued, sending me back a step and knocking the remaining oxygen from my strained lungs. “She finds out this ? She’s gonna fall right back into his lies and into something so much more dangerous.”
I stumbled back another couple of steps at the cryptic words before finally managing to turn around and hurry back the way I’d come.
I slammed into my desk chair just as a choked sound crawled up my throat, but I pressed a hand to my mouth, dropped my forehead into my other hand, and forced myself to take deep breaths as I fought to push away the words I’d just heard.
But they were there.
Loud. Clear. Confusing.
I knew they were still working on Owen’s case—I knew . But I’d been guaranteed I wouldn’t have to see or hear anything about it again. Asher had even taken it upon himself to file everything to do with this Donut so I wouldn’t have to see something about a man I’d been so close to.
But now? After giving them everything I knew and being assured they were done with everything Chloe-plus-Owen, there was something new. Something they were sure would have me falling into his trap all over again.
Something dangerous .