Page 43 of Heathen

It's more lies than truth. There's always something that can be done around here, but I really need some distance, despite my eagerness to be right beside her. It's like facing an addiction and testing my resiliency, something I get the feeling I'll be unsuccessful at if I try it too many times.

"Feel free to roam the property, just don't try to get in any places that are locked. This floor is all bedrooms, so I wouldn't go turning any doorknobs up here. I can introduce you to the guys as they trickle in," I say, taking a big enough step back that I can't smell the hotel bodywash on her skin.

It leaves my flesh feeling a little itchy, but instead of scratching or feeding the need to step in closer again, I turn toward the door, pausing with my hand on the knob when she calls my name.

I turn back to face her, hating that she was traumatized this evening and had to sneak out of her house like a criminal in order to stay safe.

"Hey," I whisper, giving in to that urge to be near her again.

I curl a finger under her chin when she attempts to break eye contact with me.

"You're safe here," I assure her. "Rooster knows the second someone crosses the perimeter. No one here will touch you."

"Promise?" she whispers, her eyes locked on my mouth.

I lick my dry lips, noticing the way her pupils dilate, but knowing it must be the fear she felt earlier rearing its ugly head. Although she's okay with me protecting her, she isn't interested in me past that.

"Promise," I vow, pressing my lips to her forehead before making my escape from the room.

Chapter 18

Kaylee

I knew I was in trouble the second he went to leave the room, and I had to fight the urge to beg him to stay.

I didn't consider myself unsafe until the moment I wanted to cling to him just for his company and not because of what happened earlier today.

I didn't doubt him when he said there wasn't a person here who would lay a hand on me, and although he meant it in a mean, victimizing way, that's not exactly where my head went.

I shouldn't crave his hands on my skin, his lips pressed to my throat, but wishing something wasn't true and it actually not being are two very different things.

That's where the trouble I'm in stems from.

I managed to stay in the bedroom, the scent of his cologne swarming all around me, for half an hour before I had to escape. That's how I found myself standing here, looking through the windows of the walkout basement, knowing that I've never stayed at a hotel as nice as this house.

Praying that the heat of the day has mostly burned off with the disappearance of the sun, I step outside and pull in a deep fortifying breath. It's still warm enough outside, but the oppressiveness from the day is gone.

My phone chimes in my pocket, and before I pull it out, I feel guilty. Morgan is the only one who messages me, and I realize I haven't spoken to her in days.

Morgan: Just checking in!

Me: I'm such a crappy friend.

Morgan: I bet you've just been busy.

I huff a humorless laugh because we both know better, but she's just too damn nice to call me on my shitty friend behavior.

Morgan: Anything new in your world?

I take a look around, seeing the sparkling clean pool and the mini golf course to the right of it. Making a hasty decision, I snap a picture of the waterfall feeding the pool and send it to her.

I'm unsurprised by the FaceTime request that comes a second later.

"Where are you?" she asks the second the video connects.

"At a friend's house," I say, because technically Ellis is my husband, and that means he should be a friend too, right?

"A friend?" she asks in a skeptical tone. I grow a little offended by it, but realistically she should be surprised.

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