Page 74 of Selfish Desires

After living in the countryside for almost twenty-four hours, it was safe to say that the secluded life was not for me. I was bored out of my fucking mind, and I was almost positive Wendy agreed. Except, she was a good sport to agree to follow me out here to the middle of nowhere on some unknown hunt. Was there even anyone to hunt? I had no clue. And I was pretty sure if we didn’t get out of this fucking cabin within the next hour or two, we’d both start to lose our minds.

We slept like logs from all the fucking. And there was a lot of it. I lost count of how many times I made Wendy orgasm, and I filled her up so many times I was convinced I’d be leaking from her cunt for the next week.

But this wasn’t any way to live. We needed human contact outside these walls and couldn’t hide much longer. Luckily, according to the online reviews, I planned an afternoon outing at a local restaurant—the area’s gem. Wendy just hadn’t a clue that we’d be followed by a personal security guard. There was one minor detail I hadn’t divulged to Wendy before we left Newport, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to either.

The afternoon I summoned Wendy to the new investment property, earlier in the day, a rock was thrown through the mansion’s window with a simple note taped to it: LIAR.

That was all it said and enough to send me running with Wendy. If I truly had it my way, I would have explained to Wendy why I needed to get away alone and try to figure out who the fuck was harassing us, but I couldn’t leave her again. Because if I did, I’d lose her for good. Was it selfish of me to stick around to keep Wendy near me? Maybe.

Pulling my jacket around me to ward off the harsh winter chill, I glanced across the distance to where Wendy stood gazing out over the water. She looked beautiful, as always. Her eyes were staring at nothing in particular. It was a dismal grey outside, perfectly matching the turmoil whirling in my mind.

For a moment, just a fleeting one, I thought about confessing everything to her. The paranoia, the fear, the compulsion that had brought us here. But I pushed the idea aside almost instantly. She didn't need that burden; she didn't need my guilt on her shoulders. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling I was somehow betraying her by keeping this secret.

“Wendy,” I started, my voice tentative, my throat suddenly dry. She turned her head to look at me, her eyes questioning.

“Yes?” Her voice seemed distant yet hopeful.

“Let’s get out of here and get some lunch.”

Wendy glanced at me, her brown eyes widening. I could feel a faint smile playing on her lips. “Sure, I'd love to,” she replied, her voice soft yet filled with warmth that encompassed my entire being.

As we headed for our car, a sensation of unease wrapped itself around me. The thought of the note LIAR echoed like a broken record. Who the fuck sent it? One of my previous business associates? Or someone who wanted revenge? I thought I knew it because of the people in the picture: me and that woman. But my target was wrong. Another mistake I made. The possibilities were endless, and each was as terrifying as the next.

Once we arrived at the restaurant, I noticed Wendy seemed to be enjoying the change of scenery. At the same time, I was trapped in my own paranoia. Her laughter floated across the table, seemingly untroubled by our abrupt departure from Newport. She was ignorant of the looming danger, oblivious to the storm brewing on the horizon. I watched her enjoy her meal, savored every bite of her steak, and sipped her chardonnay with a contented sigh.

“I’m glad we came here in the end,” said Wendy, reaching across the table and taking my hand in hers. She toyed with my heavy fingers as I forced a smile.

“Of course. Isn’t this place fantastic?” I bit a piece of French bread and downed half my iced tea, swearing off alcohol this trip, ensuring my instincts remained sharp.

Wendy grinned, except it quickly faded from her face as she looked over my shoulder. “Who is that?”

My heart lurched as I spun around, and when my eyes landed on Cyrus, the security I commissioned for this getaway, oxygen filled my lungs again. “Oh, that’s Cyrus.”

“And who is Cyrus?” Wendy raised a questioning brow.

“Our security.” I shrugged, taking another sip of earthy tea.

“Security?” Wendy's voice echoed with surprise. Her eyes widened in confusion, and she looked back and forth between me and the bulky figure of Cyrus, who stood a little distance away, pretending not to notice our conversation but failed spectacularly.

“Yes,” I said, my voice steady, even as my heart pounded against my ribs. “You know how it is these days. Celebrities, high-profile businessmen like myself, we all need a little extra protection.”

“Cut the bullshit, Vincent.” Wendy pushed her plate away, clearly finished. “Tell me what’s going on now, or I’m leaving.”

“Cyrus is a good guy.” I dabbed my mouth with a napkin. “We go way back. Look, you're overthinking this.” I offered a nonchalant smile. “It's just a precaution, nothing else.”

“I am going to leave,” Wendy warned through gritted teeth.

“And go where?” I shot back, our eyes locked in a dangerous game of chicken.

Wendy squinted, and it was her turn to fake clean her mouth. She threw the white rag onto the table, pushed her chair back, producing an ear-cracking screech, and stood. “Goodbye.” And she walked away.

But Wendy didn’t get far, as I bolted from my seat, chasing her. I reached for her arm, but Wendy was quicker and scooted away. She marched right up to Cyrus, determined.

“Why are you here?” Wendy planted her hands on her waist.

Cyrus, already uncomfortable, looked even more so under Wendy's steely gaze.

“For Mr. Vincent's safety,” he stuttered, glancing at me before dropping his gaze to the floor.

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