Page 37 of Hidden While In Sight

He dragged himself across the ground toward the desk, using shaking arms to lift himself until he could stare at the family. They were at dinner in the dining room, barely eating, acting as if nothing had changed.

Nothing had. After Diego returned behind the cameras, Hannah had showered his cum away, washed the sheets, and returned to the den to read from the Bible. She hadn’t even chosen his, instead pulling out the one with the ripped pages.

He’d sunk into the chair and watched.

The nanny returned with the children, talking about some hands-on museum their mother had recommended. Hannah had sent them away so she could fuck Diego out of her system.

The more her blank expression loosened into an expression that showed peace, the more Diego realized that was exactly what she’d done.

She’d used him.

He couldn’t even be furious about it. In a way, he was grateful. He only wished she would use him again.

When Ashford returned home that evening, Diego had watched him like a hawk, almost willing him to do something that would allow him off his chain.

Ashford was his normal prick self, barely allowing Hannah to eat and treating his family like they didn’t matter. He’d grown tense when the nanny talked about the fucking museum, his eyes fixing onto Hannah while his sidepiece made it clear it wasn’t her idea but his wife’s.

The nanny had finally trailed off. Connor looked like he was going to throw up the one bite of food he had managed, and Emma shoveled so much food in that some leaked out of her mouth.

Hannah’s hand had trembled as she raised her fork to her mouth, nibbling on the sliver of a vegetable she was allowed.

Ashford’s eyes narrowed.

Then the nanny scolded Emma for her manners, and the tension had leaked away.

Anne Clemmon allowed Ashford to fuck her into the den couch again that night, and Hannah slipped away to her children. She didn’t read to them with her stolen time despite Emma’s urging. Hannah held her daughter, rocking her in her arms as the little girl babbled.

Connor pretended to ignore them again, but he kept looking toward his mother, his body growing tenser and tenser.

Hannah mostly stared at nothing. Her eyes never flicked to the camera as she continued to rock Emma.

Connor ended up climbing into her lap next to his sister, clutching at his mother.

Diego had started his first round of pull-ups.

Now it was the next night, and the waiting was making Diego sweat.

Ramiro called. Diego answered without looking away from the screen.

“It’s done,” Ramiro told him. “Start packing it in.”

“He’s still there,” Diego said flatly.

“There’s nothing more you can do. Isn’t that what you said?”

“He’s still there,” Diego repeated.

“For God’s sake. Fine!” Ramiro snapped, hanging up on him.

The cops came during the next evening’s meal. There were no sirens, not even any marked cars. Just a couple of plainclothes officers with a warrant.

It was all so boring. Ashford answered the door with a confused greeting. They showed him the warrant, and he shook his head.

Hannah clutched at the doorframe leading out of the dining room and watched. The flash of fury on Ashford’s face was almost too quick to catch unless you were looking closely.

Diego was looking closely. His stomach tightened, and the tightness didn’t ease at all when Ashford left with the officers without being cuffed.

A day passed.

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