Page 12 of Lovely Darkness

But then I heard footsteps coming down the back stairwell and caught Nick leading Wendy out the front door.

I wanted to follow them, but before I could make a decision about that, I heard another noise. So I went into the big room where they keep Donovan—unconscious and securely belted to a hospital bed—expecting to find the nurse, but she was on the phone in the little kitchen the medical staff uses as a breakroom, whispering about something or other. So I stood in the back breezeway that faces the pool and I caught the last glimpse of Adam and the little girl disappearing into the woods.

I pondered that for a moment, wondering if I should follow them. But McKay appeared, and that became his job instead of mine.

Then I went back to my room and sat in the overstuffed chair in the corner, thinking I might just go to sleep. But then I heard more whispering coming from the AC vent near the ceiling. Indie and Nathan were having some kind of low-key argument.

Then I heard some creaking above my head.

They were going downstairs.

I left my room again, and this time Sasha was in the hallway. She scoffed when I appeared. “Are you hearing all this?”

I nod. “No one’s sleeping tonight, I guess.”

“What the hell is going on?”

I spend about forty-seven seconds filling her in and then she says, “Should we go out there and see what’s up?”

I look down the breezeway towards the main part of the house, then hear more voices. Indie and Nathan, I think. Then I look down at the other end where Donovan’s room is. I nod my chin in that direction and whisper, “Let’s go check him out.”

I don’t wait for her answer, just head in that direction.

We were not formally introduced to Donovan Couture when McKay showed us our rooms, but he didn’t hide the fact that Donovan’s bed was just down the hall. And this man is the whole reason I’m here, right? Checking in on him right now feels like part of the job. Especially since the nurse is still on the phone in the breakroom.

Donovan’s room is not a bedroom. It’s a massive second living room. Family room, maybe. Because it’s not formal, like the living room in the front of the house. It’s rustic. Like this was the original structure and the rest of the mansion sprang up around it over the centuries. Stone fireplace, wide-planked wood floors that aren’t polished and fine, but grooved and split. And paneling on the walls that makes it look more like a cabin than what it is.

The hospital set-up is top notch. The bed, the IV stands, and the machines that beep in the background look like this could actually be a normal hospital room for rich people. The medical staff consists of two nurses and a doctor, all of whom live on site. Adam has spared no expense.

“We should go back to bed,” Sasha whispers. “Someone is gonna catch us.”

“Catch us doing what? This man is the whole reason we’re here.”

“You know what I mean. It’s the middle of the night. We should be asleep.”

“So should everyone else.”

She huffs. It’s almost a laugh.

“I just want to check shit out. See what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is his last name, Merc. The Coutures are Company royalty. His grandfather ran the entire…whatever it was. The hunt. The auction. The breeding program. Maybe not that last part. There was a science facility for that. But he definitely ran the pedigree book.”

I shoot Sasha a look over my shoulder. “That’s… gross.”

She puts her hands up. “Hey, I’m not defending it. I’m just stating facts. Donovan Couture is someone important. That’s what the big deal is.”

“Maybe,” I half-heartedly concede. And then I step forward towards the bed and mumble, “But then again, maybe not.” When I reach the end of the bed, I pick up his chart and open it up. There’s not a lot of light in here, but enough to read the basics, which are typewritten and not longhand.

“Donovan Couture. Age thirty. Six foot one, hundred and seventy-nine pounds, hair brown, eyes hazel, blah, blah, blah.” I scan down. “He’s allergic to…” I snicker.

“What?” Sasha whispers. “What’s so funny?”

“Do you know what this asshole is allergic to?”

Sasha makes a face of ‘who gives a fuck.’ It comes with exaggerated hand gestures.

“Visine.” I actually laugh out loud.