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"There are cameras, and motion sensors in the clubhouse and around the property."
She looks disgusted, and it makes me wonder if she had plans on running from here. I open my mouth to tell her that we’ll take her anywhere she wants to go. I feel the need to explain that she isn't a prisoner, but for some reason, I don't say anything. I figure giving her the option would make her want to choose anything but staying here, and it feels more than a little deceptive to stay quiet.
Yet, I don't make the offer. I simply wait at the bedroom door leading into the hallway until she comes out of the closet. There have been a handful of times that she has gotten up and gone to the bathroom with me still in the room, but she makes sure to lock the bathroom door every single time. She only does it when I'm distracted, so I stay in front of her as we leave the room.
I want her to have the opportunity to get back to the room without having to go past me if she feels like this is too much too soon and she changes her mind.
"Can we go outside?" she asks, her voice a low whisper. "Or is that not allowed?"
"You're allowed to do whatever you want,"I assure her, pointing to the back door. "Let’s go this way unless you want to walk around the parking lot."
She shakes her head. "I just want fresh air."
I try not to read too much into her words, but I can't help but wonder if she feels smothered in my room.
"Wow," she whispers. "It's even prettier at night."
"You've seen it in the daylight?" I ask, confused.
"From the window," she says, pointing back to the clubhouse. "Is it okay if we just sit?"
"Of course," I tell her, waiting for her to take a seat on one of the loungers before occupying the one beside her.
I stand when she shivers, not saying a word as I leave the pool deck and go to grab a blanket from inside the cabinet in the pool house.
I offer it to her still folded up rather than spreading it out and covering her with it. Doing so feels like it would be invasive and a little too personal.
"That right there is Kincaid and Em's house," I say, pointing down the sidewalk. "Over there is Shadow and Misty's house. That one belongs to Kid and Khloe, and you can't see it from here, but all the way back is Snatch and Itchy's place. A lot of Cerberus also live across the street. It's like a whole little village."
She looks around, the lights from the pool glinting off her face. The sidewalks are lined with lights, but the glow from them isn't distracting from the beauty of the property. They're more to keep people from tripping or running across the occasional snake in the dark, although it's too cold this time of year for an encounter with one.
"Compound," she says. "That's what the women at the shelter referred to it as," she says, her eyes still roaming.
There's a tickle of suspicion that runs up my spine. There's no denying that Nathan hurt her, but I can't be a hundred percent sure that her being here isn't some elaborate plan to provide Nathan with information on Cerberus.
Although he hasn't mentioned it, there is a reason Kincaid wasn't exactly happy with Em's suggestion of letting Brielle stay at their house.
I don't think the man would put me in a situation like that. It's even less likely he'd let someone he felt was dangerous to the club stay here where his grandchildren play, but maybe she’s managed to manipulate all of them as well.
"It isn't a compound, but I know the people who live here will defend this place with their lives."
She nods but doesn't look my way.
It puts a sliver of doubt in me where she's concerned, and I pray this is just one of those times when I read a situation wrong. I hope that it's my own trauma making me want to doubt her and not that sixth sense I honed as a child in order to stay safe.
She doesn't speak again. She simply turns her head up to the sky as she snuggles deeper under the blanket I gave her. We stay like this for over an hour, our breaths turning to mist in the cold night.
The unease inside of me settles some when she doesn't shift. She doesn't look around the property in an effort to find weak spots. She doesn't ask a million questions as if trying to determine where we could be more easily infiltrated, but it makes me wonder if it's because she already knows.
If she has spent time looking out the bedroom window during the daytime, she'd be able to figure out a lot more than sitting poolside at night.
Plus, I told her we had cameras and motion sensors. I gave that information readily.
I try my best to tamp down my own paranoia as we sit silently.
My fingers are freezing by the time she sits up on the lounger.
"Ready to go back in?" I ask, willing to play the part she expects of me.
