Page 19 of Drowning in Darkness

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grumble. Is this another one of his overprotective stunts to get me to move closer, or worse, be readmitted? I won’t entertain either.

“Christopher Burnside,” Hunter snarls. “Ring a bell?”

The world contracts as James closes his eyes and shakes his head. He’s here because of Christopher? And my brother is losing his shit for the same reason? Who the hell is this man? Freaking Satan?

An insidious thought tries to worm its way in. Again, maybe it’s you, it whispers.

Fuck that, and fuck Christopher Burnside.

“What makes you think he’s hunting me?” The fact that James is here tells me that Hunter isn’t off base, and his level-headed partner agrees.

“The seventy-page dossier he has on you,” he growls. I flick my eyes to the lilies again. Holy shit.

“It’s because of me,” Eleanor adds. “He had his sights on me a while back until he got his wrists slapped by the cult my brother is leading into oblivion.”

James is doing what? Wait, he’s still leading the damn cult? I stare at him, waiting for an explanation. I need to get my brother off the phone.

“Well, as you can hear, I’m safe and sound.”

I decide not to explain that I spent the best part of the morning sipping coffee at the same table as the man Hunter is freaking out about. My eyes land on the unfamiliar duffel bag on the sofa, and I try to pick apart what that represents.

“I’m coming to get you,” Hunter decides.

“That’s not what we discussed,” Eleanor groans.

“Good, because it’s not happening,” I snap.

“You don’t get a say in this, Stephanie Melissa King.”

I focus on the man on the phone, not the one watching me with unnerving attention. Not in the same way Christopher does. James has this look in his eyes whenever we meet, like he wants to hold me up and protect me all at the same time. But he restrains himself because he thinks I’m untouchable on account of my brother ripping him a new asshole.

“You listen closely,” I utter, determination filling me. I have to stand up to him, or I will never be free. “I am safe in my pool house behind the gates of the Alderidge property. I’m not taking any risks, and I won’t go anywhere alone. If you call, I will pick up the phone, but I will not be coming to live with you, and I repeat this because I believe you have selective hearing. I will not be leaving here. So suck it up, brother. I might be your little sister, but I am not young or naïve. That girl died long ago.”

The silence is loud as I wait for Hunter to acknowledge my words.

“Don’t go anywhere alone,” he checks.

“Nope.”

“Stay in touch daily. Strike that. Twice a day calls.”

“I’ll message you three times a day. Calls are more intrusive, so let’s minimize those.”

He sighs. “Are you sure about this?”

“Do I need to repeat myself a third time?” When there’s no answer, I take that as a yes. “I am not leaving.”

“Fine,” he growls. “Love you, Steph.”

“You too, Hunt.”

The phone beeps out.

I fold my arms and glare at my intruder. “Now what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Pack a bag,” he drawls. His voice does funny things to my stomach. I thought I’d imagined that effect he has on me, but alas, no.

Wait, what? “Why?”