Page 21 of Beautiful Deception

“Estimated to have thirty inches of snow around here,” Remo discloses quietly.

“We’re just stuck here?” I want to scream or pull my hair. There is no way I can stay here any longer. It’s impossible and not good for my health, but the biggest problem is the disturbing incidents.

The more I think about it, the more I believe it to be true. That level of visceral fear only came once, and I’m still not fully recovered from the horror of being buried alive in a wooden box.

It would’ve been my coffin if I hadn’t been rescued.

“My partner will come if I don’t check in on the seventh day,” Remo consoles, awkwardly putting his hand on the top of my head just like Dr. Kian did.

He’s clumsy when ruffling my hair, but the compassion spreading from his fingers drowns out my worry and the anxious coil in my stomach.

“My patients most certainly have phoned the police. After all, I didn’t show up for their sessions for the past few days.” Dr. Kian laughs heartily as his lips curl higher at the corners.

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” I bite the bullet when they meet eyes from above me and share a resoundingly similar expression. “Do you two know each other?”

Remo arches an eyebrow and slides the tip of his tongue between the seam of his lips. The shadow from his tilted head casts a shadow darker than his eyes, but it only takes one fluid change of demeanor to carve mockery onto the walls of my squeezed lungs.

“We’ve been friends for twenty years,” Dr. Kian admits with a tune of deceit that tests the purr behind his throat.

He strokes the column of my throat with a finger, trailing up and down until it lingers on the fragile skin and pins down the defiant pulses to force them to beat to the rhythm under his fingertip.

Then, he lets go with a feigned smile.

He’s not even putting in effort to make it believable.

“Are you…” Remo murmurs, the softness masking the other man’s shuffling clothes when he lowers his head to look at me, while Dr. Kian resonates with Remo’s thoughts. “Surprised?”

Chapter Six

__________

Maya

“Anyone know what happened to our cars?” Junnie breaks the burdensome silence as she drags her feet further up the armchair.

“Clearing the air,” Kimberly jests while raising her hand. “I didn’t do it.”

“I didn’t either,” Joe repeats after her as he holds his hands up in surrender.

Their eyes fall on me, rudely squinting their eyes before shaking their heads and focusing on the two men sitting at the back. The projector Joe rummaged from the storage room only had a couple of films while the rest were chewed up by rats.

“I was with him last night,” Dr. Kian states, pointing at Remo sitting beside him.

His arms are crossed, stretching his shirt tighter on his thick chest as his head stays tipped down. Remo doesn’t react when everyone’s eyes fall on him, his breath staying even and soft.

It looks like he’s napping.

“You?” Kimberly questions with zeal.

“I was with them,” I say as I shrug imperturbably.

There is nothing to be ashamed about. I’m not sure what they did while I was sleeping, but I’m certain I wasn’t the one who slashed the tires. My family has no history of sleepwalking, and I would be aware if I did.

The issue is that there are far too many variables and people to consider. Maybe the biting temperature caused the tire rubber to be brittle and susceptible to cracking or splitting.

The maids are not allowed to speak, a condition imposed by the host, who owns the villa. The butler is constantly on the go, ensuring that the villa runs well, preparing meals and drinks, and serving guests as needed.

Junnie wants to leave this forsaken place because she can’t stand the thought of rats near her.

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