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“How? What’s been going on?” I question, placing my hands on my hips as I begin to scan the area. Looking for what, I couldn’t tell you. Hidden cameras, microphones, anything out of the ordinary that’d have them saying things like Berk just did.
She sighs before announcing, “One night, we both woke up because we thought we heard voices and things being rearranged in the kitchen. But when we made it to the mouth of the hallway, the rooms were empty. Nobody was there. Another time, I could’ve sworn someone was whispering my name, but when I turned my lamp on, nothing was there.”
“Have you told Kayson and his team about those things?” I ask.
“What? You want me to tell them that I think we’re being haunted by ghosts?” she queries. “They’d think we need to be committed.”
“No, they’d determine it’s likely someone broke into your place and set up transmitters or something like that to freak you out,” I grit out. “Have you ever thought that maybe some equipment may have been installed to keep an eye on you?”
“No! That’s preposterous and stretching things,” she rebukes.
“Are you trying to say your parents wouldn’t go to those lengths in an attempt to get an upper hand over you and Berk?” I probe. As things begin to sink in I watch as her entire body slumps.
“Shit,” she whistles.
Her indifference to things drives me insane. Plucking my phone from my pocket I place it to my ear and call Kayson. Once I’m done explaining what they’ve heard happening in their space he guarantees me that once we’ve vacated the space he’ll have his team do a deep dive into the entirety of their unit. We also conclude that the quicker I get them out of here the better things will be. He’s going to get some of his men to volunteer in packing up their things and putting them into a storage facility closer to my downtown house.
I know that Berlynn won’t be happy about strangers boxing up her personal items, but now that she’s told me about some of the things they’ve overheard and felt, I don’t give a damn.
It’s time to get them the hell outta here and somewhere I know they’ll be safe from their parents and untouchable by their accomplices.
CHAPTER
NINE
BERLYNN
Packing went quicklysince we decided to let the men do the hard lifting. Basically all we had to pack were our personal belongings and any knick knacks that we wanted in remembrance of our family—i.e., mine and Berkley’s accomplishments throughout the years. Trophies, medals, photographs of both the two of us as well as the four of us in our younger years, you name it and if it was special, it went into boxes to accompany us to Aris’s house. But only the things we couldn’t stand to see destroyed in a convoy of men rushing around to get our things boxed up.
“You still have that ratty thing?” Aris asks me.
“Sure ‘nuff,” I tease, packing the very first stuffed animal, which happens to be a giraffe, that Aris got me when I turned five.
“It's definitely seen better days,” he snorts, shaking his head with a smile plastered along his face.
“That's because she sleeps with it every night,” Berkley tattles.
“Mind your business,” I playfully scold him, placing Mr. G into my suitcase. “Besides, he was my first present from you. Do you really think he’d be anywhere but at my side?”
“I suppose not,” he says in response, raking his fingers through the overgrown scruff on his jaw.
“When’s the last time you shaved?” I question him, thinking that a beard may make him look hotter than he already is and the last thing he needs is something else to add to his overly inflated ego.
He shrugs his shoulders saying, “A few days ago give or take. It hasn’t been on my top ten most important things to do in a day. What about you?” he jokingly asks, running the tip of his finger across my exposed thigh, causing goosebumps to erupt on my flesh. “When was the last time you picked up your razor?”
“The last time I shaved was on my cardio day.” I laugh followed by a snort.
“You shave based on what day of the week you do your cardio?” he asks, trying and failing to hold back a smirk.
“That’s the jest of it,” I answer, slapping my case closed and zipping it up.
“This may be a stupid question, but why?” he inquires, tilting his head sideways.
“Do you have any idea how complicated it is for a woman to shave compared to a man, Aris?”
“Can’t say that I do, Berlynn,” he returns, before saying, “but inquiring minds want to know.”
“This may go against girl code and all of that, but here’s a question for you. When you shave your face, do you have to contort yourself into a pretzel to get all of the patches?”
