Page 156 of Arran's Obsession

“If one or both deaths are in any way a message to me, then she’s in danger.”

He didn’t ask who, didn’t need to.

There was only one person outside this warehouse who I gave a damn about. One person I’d sworn to stay well away from but who I never stopped thinking about. Would never stop protecting.

Even if that meant me standing over her fucking bed in the middle of the night while she slept.

As I ran for the lift, I loaded the tracking app which detailed Everly’s movements. I hadn’t lied when I said I tried not to check it, but trying and succeeding were two different things. She keptdaytime hours, unlike me, and right now should be in her bed in that fancy-arse house.

But the tracker was blinking.

My stepsister was on the move, and I had the worst feeling that it wasn’t of her own free will.

Epilogue

Everly

Something had woken me. A noise, or a sensation on my body, I wasn’t sure which, but it had drawn me from sleep and out of my room. Noiselessly, on bare feet and wrapping a silk dressing gown over my skimpy sleep clothes, I padded to the stairs then sat at the top, eyes open for danger and my stomach a tight ball of worry.

Minutes passed. Cold air crept around my thighs.

My father’s mayoral house was designed to impress, and the entranceway had high ceilings so sound echoed. But tonight, it was as silent as the grave. No one else was supposed to be here but me. Father was away for the night, and any help he employed was daytime only. Perhaps that was it—the reason behind myjumpiness. When he was here, he brought others with him, and the house would be busy.

Not empty, with sinister, hollow rooms staring back at me.

Moving on down the steps, I peeked into the receiving room. Nothing. The front door was firmly closed, too, which I checked with a quick test of the lock. Turning, I faced the shadowy interior with trepidation. Between checking the rest of the house and hiding away in my room, I knew the more appealing option, but the house contained valuable antiques and other items of importance. If someone had broken in and my father discovered I’d done nothing, he’d…

I couldn’t finish the thought.

Swallowing fear, I forced my feet to move and stole on down the hallway. All the rooms to the right were public spaces, and all those to the left were private, the kitchens, the pantry, Father’s office. I prowled into the space nicknamed the council chamber for its wood-panelled walls and the oval, highly polished table in the centre with heavy chairs surrounding. More business got done here than in Deadwater Council’s actual seat of power.

Thankfully, it was empty, and the French doors that led to our gardens shut. No smashed glass. No wrecked ironwork. I checked the bathroom, the sun room, then a small side room where I’d had the misfortune of catching more than one man in the middle of an exposing act with a lady.

All tranquil, nothing to give me any pause.

Yet for me to have been pulled from sleep, it had to have beensomething. Ever since childhood, I’d slept hard, usually with my door barricaded and unconsciousness a welcome release from my tense existence. Managing Father was like walking a tightrope—one wrong move and I’d cause one of his moods. Sleep was a comparative place of safety, like a form of self-defence or hibernation. Then as a teenager, when hormoneskicked in and left me sleepless, I struggled for a while until my body regulated and solved the problem.

Oftentimes, it was almost like being drugged.

I’d be out cold until daylight returned, and grateful for it. If only I had that now, rather than playing security in a big and empty house.

Back in the hall, I crossed to the kitchen entrance, one hand out to push the swinging door.

Something creaked.

My heart thumped. I whipped around, trying to locate the source of the sound. In my position in the centre of the corridor, the noise could’ve come from multiple directions, stone floors and hardwood surfaces bouncing it to me.

Another creak, closer.

My pulse picked up, and my breathing turned jagged. I backed away until my shoulders touched the pillar of the council chamber’s entrance, the door open behind me but at least that space cleared and checked.

My bravery shook. My hands did, too.

Nothing moved in the slice of the house in my vision, but I hadn’t made up what I’d heard.

My phone was upstairs, foolishly left behind. We had a patrolling security team on our gated community, and I would’ve called them right away except the man who was working tonight creeped me out. His gaze roamed my body whenever he saw me. My father dismissed my concerns, stating how no man would put his job on the line for a girl like me, meaning either my position as his daughter or the fact that in his eyes, I was overweight. But still, he’d come here if I called the emergency number. Or the police would, but that would set hares running and Father would be notified.

Plan better, Everly.

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