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“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Dove?” the voice growls against my head. It’s familiar. Too familiar. “Snooping, are you?”
“I, um … I just wanted to see the whole house.” I try to keep my voice from shaking, but it’s nearly impossible. “I was wondering what was in that room. I’ve seen everyone else go in there. Why can’t I?”
Being blonde, I’ve already been called dumb my entire life. Right now, I’m going to lean into that stigma and play the airhead everyone paints me to be anyway.
“I heard some of the guys talking. They said it was a library.” I make my voice whiny and extremely annoying. “I love to read. Why can’t I go in? It’s such a waste.”
I cringe, hearing the shit coming from my mouth. I sound like a pouty little kid who isn’t allowed to go on the playground. But I can’t give this man any sign of what I’m actually up to.
Slowly, the strong man moves me to face him and crowds me against the wall.
I gulp when I take in Hudson. He’s in a white T-shirt today. A T-shirt that hugs his arms deliciously.
“There’s a camera directly above the door in there,” he growls at me. “You walk in there?” His eyes narrow. “Consider yourself dead.”
His jawline is sharp, and I imagine running my finger across it and touching the stubble sprinkled on it. He’s got one of those piercing, dimpled chins you see in movies that no man actually has in real life. His blue eyes are more of a stormy-gray color today. And his dirty-blond hair falls perfectly. Like he styled it, though I’m sure he didn’t.
“S-sorry,” I whisper. My body is painfully aware that he’s holding me here, against this wall. That should scare me and make me want to run. But instead … my skin buzzes, and my heart races in my chest. “I didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to go in there.”
He gazes down at me as if he’s waiting for me to crack. He doesn’t know me well if he thinks that I will. I was raised to lie to teachers, social workers, and police officers when they questioned me about my parents’ well-being.
“Hudson?” a voice yells from the bottom of the stairs. “Did you go into the office? The system is saying there was a breach.”
Before I realize it, Hudson’s hand covers my mouth—even though I wasn’t going to say anything anyway.
He doesn’t look flustered, though his hand presses slightly harder on my mouth. “Yeah. Uh, sorry, Rossi. I was doing my check throughout the building, and the door to the office was left unlocked.” He swallows, and I watch his neck move slowly. “All set now.”
Rossi doesn’t answer right away, but eventually, he calls back, “Uh … okay. Boss isn’t going to like that.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps. “Next time, they should make sure it’s fucking locked if they don’t want this shit happening.”
Seconds later, I hear Rossi’s footsteps as he walks away from the stairs, but Hudson keeps his hand on my mouth, and I panic.
“I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth, and you’re going to go to your room. Quietly,” he says through gritted teeth. “Do you fucking understand?”
My heart pumps with fear. One second, I felt like he was possibly my ally, helping me find my bracelet and taking me to McDonald’s when I told him I was hungry. And now, I fear him.
Sluggishly, I nod, and just like he said, he pulls his hand back slowly.
As I shuffle between him and the wall, he grabs my wrist and stops me from moving farther away. “Don’t go looking for things, Dove. You’re not going to like what you find.”
Pulling my wrist away from him, I rush into my room. Closing the door behind me, I suck in a few shaky breaths.
Having someone like him around is going to make everything harder. But still, two questions won’t leave my brain.
Why did Hudson lie for me?
And why on earth does he call me Dove?
In my room, I pace back and forth.
How the hell could she be that stupid? I mean, yeah, I don’t know the chick personally. I know her past. I know why she’s here to begin with. I know, despite her size, she can eat the fucking shit out of a Big Mac and polish off two apple pies like nothing. But how could she think she’d just stroll into that room—after fucking unlocking the door with a damn hairpin—and just carry on with her day? Like she isn’t a sitting duck, surrounded by sharks.
And how could I be so stupid? To be that close to her?
Guilt consumes every single ounce of my body, and I wish I could take what just happened back. I have no business looking at Briar James—or any woman for that matter, the way I just looked at her.
I’m not buying the whole “library” bullshit either. No. That girl is up to something. I should just turn her in and tell Enzo that she’s suspicious. Her being here is going to complicate everything I’m working toward because I’m fucking lying to Rossi.
