Page 44 of Eyes in the Shadows

“I’m going to lose my job.” I should be more upset at the prospect of losing my job. I could take a week off, probably, but only because it’s the off season now. And they wouldn’t hold my spot for me any longer than that. They need all their kitchen hands too much.

He shrugs. “But you won’t lose your life.”

Fair point. “Okay. What else?” At the questioning expression, I just sigh, “You said rules; that was just one—stay here until you say I can leave.”

He advances around the counter, and I take a step the opposite way, keeping it between us. “No contact with anyone. You can’t have your phone; it’ll be turned off, in a box we have that blocks any trackers or anything that might be on it.”

I press my lips together. “People will be worried about me—people at work, Harrison, my sister… maybe my parents, depending on how long I’m gone.”

There’s a glint in his eye when I bring up Harrison’s name that almost makes me want to do it again just to see how he’ll react. “I’ll have Wes send them an email from your account on an untraceable IP that you’re taking a vacation and you’ll be off grid. Anything you want to add that might help sell it?”

I consider that. It’s going to sound a bit strange no matter what they say—I don’t take vacations, everyone knows that. He takes another step and so do I. “When we were little, my parents took us camping in West Virginia. I remember it being really remote.”

He nods. His step is slower, this time, and I let his weight shift before I match it with my own. “That works. Service is bad in the mountains.”

I swallow. “Anything else? Am I confined to my room, or am I supposed to avoid windows—”

“Eleanor, why are you backing away from me? You lookin’ to get chased, darlin’?”

A thrill zings through my belly, but I spit, “Because you’re following me? I really don’t want you to chase me.”

He smiles slowly, flashing those white teeth. “I seriously doubt that.”

My heart starts pounding, heavy and fast. The urge for fight or flight is strong and it’s only the knowledge that there is a 0% chance that I’m faster than him that glues me in place. I’m not quite sure how to get out of this thing I’ve apparently started, either, except that I’ve noticed he backs off when I submit—it’s not the fear he likes, it’s the defiance I show when he’s expecting fear.

I look down when he takes another step, letting him know he’s won. “I’m really tired,” I say. It’s not the most prevalent feeling in my body right now, but it is true.

He finishes closing the distance between us, but the predatory look has been subdued. “Then, let’s get you to bed. You’re not confined to your room, and you don’t have to avoid windows. We’re tucked away in here, that’s why it’s safe.”

He places his hand at the small of my back and starts gently leading me out towards the foyer.

“Oh, before I forget, that guy who came in here before, Dimitri?”

“Did he say something to you?” Mac asks, a hard edge to his voice.

I bite my lip and shake my head. “No, I think he was the one in the photo they showed me—those pretend cops, I mean. He was wearing a hat in the picture, so I couldn’t see that scar he has, but I’m pretty sure it was him.”

I feel him tense, even through the minimal contact of his hand. “It’s good that you told me. We’ll look into if that other guy actually was a cop. You said his name was McCloskey?”

I nod.

I have to try to keep my jaw off the floor as we walk back into the grand entrance. My sneakers keep making little squeaking noises against the polished floors and I’m reminded of just how out of place I must look in my dirty gym clothes. And that I’m not wearing a bra… I glance down. Oh my God, I’m officially three for three.

All three of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life met me for the first time with my nipples visible through my shirt.

Well… not much I can do about that now.

We reach the stairs and I make a move to grab my gym bag, but Mac beats me to it.

“So, your name is James?” I ask to fill the silence as he gestures to the staircase and lets me go ahead of him. He swings my gym bag over his shoulder and follows me.

“James Mackenzie. Mac.”

“Got it. Do you like James, or—”

“I’ll answer to whatever you want to call me, darlin’. Mac is how you met me; Mac works for me.”

I find it a little strange that he doesn’t prefer one or the other, but decide not to press.

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