Page 59 of The Prey

If she discovers Elyse means something to me, big or little, good or bad, she’ll consider her a weakness, and there won’t be anything to stop her from using her against me. All over again, Elyse will become the casualty of another war she has no business being a part of.

24

Elyse

You would not look good in orange. You would not look good in orange.

I repeat the mantra to myself for the tenth time today. Tanya's bodyguard, Marcus, is breathing down my neck, and I'm about to become a member of the TV show Snapped.

One more insult, or little comment, or slight from either of them and I'm going to lose my shit. It's bad enough that I have to take crap from Sebastian everyday, but Tanya has a way of making me feel...bad. Like, as a woman—something I thought I'd gotten over when I came to Oakmount, saw the blond Barbies traipsing around and just accepted that I'm smaller, more athletically built, and all around not a super feminine beauty. Sure, I'm pretty, but I wouldn't call myself sexy.

And I’m okay with that.

Marcus steps closer as I gently ease Tanya's clean clothes into a drawer. He's crowding me, and I don’t like it.

“Do you mind?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.” There's an accent there, but I have no idea where it's from, so I don't bother speculating.

“Did I do something wrong? Is that why you are here...monitoring me?”

He shrugs. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

“Can you keep me on my toes from another room?” I deadpan, grabbing the next stack of lacy undergarments and tucking them in the drawer with the others. Thousands of dollars in lingerie, and I'm wearing my cotton Hanes Dollar General bra and panty set.

I sigh and finish putting away the rest of the clothes, then turn to check the bed is made tightly. The last thing I need is her hunting me down in the middle of the night for some trivial thing. Other people work here, but she seems to have designated me as her personal slave.

It's nothing I can't handle, just annoying as hell since she's an absolute bitch. But she's one of those bitches who say really bitchy things in the most polite voice possible. For your benefit, of course.

I tighten down the corners of the sheet and smooth the coverlet, then check the trash can in the bedroom before I go in to clean the bathroom.

Marcus follows me, of course, and I'm thankful it's not a tiny bathroom.

“Aren't you a bodyguard?” I question as I clean the shower drain and spray the inside of the tub with cleaner.

He makes some kind of noise in his throat. I can’t tell if it’s a snort or what.”How can you guard someone when the person you are protecting isn't here?”

“I think you should worry about yourself. It’s none of your business what I do,” he says, keeping his vigil at the door. I feel his hawk eyes on me as I make my way around the bathroom, wiping up toothpaste, disinfecting, imagining flushing Tanya's head down her own toilet.

I peek back at Marcus as I sweep the floor. Tall and muscular, he definitely looks like a bodyguard with his dark suit and shaved head. I’m not stupid, though, and something tells me guarding isn't the only thing he's doing with Tanya's body. Not to mention her bed is always rumpled on both sides, and he doesn't allow me into his room to clean.

It only takes a few minutes to clean up the floor and shake out the small rugs that decorate the space, considering she makes me clean her entire room every single day. Even the ones I'm supposed to be off for. Hell, I wouldn't put it past her to march up to the school and pull me out of class if I so much as forgot to fold the toilet paper edge on the roll.

I re-lay all the rugs and clean up the sink while I consider how to get rid of my shadow. He's making me nervous, and I'm not even doing anything but cleaning.

“Can you leave while I finish up, please? I'm almost done,” I ask as I wash out the sink and then wipe down the mirror. There’s toothpaste splatter all over it. Considering I clean this everyday, she must spit at the mirror to make this kind of mess.

“No, I won’t leave until I can lock the door behind you.”

He's never hovered when I cleaned before, nor has he locked the door behind me...what's going on that Tanya suddenly feels the need to hide things?

I roll my eyes and continue cleaning, having to stretch so tall my calves hurt to reach the top of the mirror.

The granite counters inlaid with black and gold gleam in the overhead mirror lights, and I ensure no water spots remain on the gilded fixtures.

I guess I should be grateful my own suite's bathroom isn't as gaudy as this one.

I quickly clean the toilet bowl, which is still sparkling from yesterday, and grab the couple of items from the bottom of the wastebasket to throw into my bigger trash bag.

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