Page 189 of Positively Pricked
Chapter 63
From inside the limo, I stared silently at the house. It was huge and beautiful, with a brick exterior and manicured lawn. And yet, I was almost too horrified to speak.
Why? Because I knew the place. I'd even walked by. And what had I seen? Bob's daughter sobbing on the front lawn.
Andwhywas she sobbing? Because Zane Bennington, the guy sitting next to me, had kicked them out with zero guilt, zero kindness, and almost zero notice.
In my mind, I could still see her, the young woman crying as the family's furniture was loaded onto the moving truck.
And now, I couldn’t help but wonder, where was she staying now? I had no idea. Probably, neither did Zane. The only difference was, I cared, where he didn't.
I was still looking at the house. "I can't stay here."
"Why not?"
"Because this is Bob's house, isn't it?"
"No," he said, "it'smyhouse, just like I said. And I'm telling you, you can stay."
He was wrong. I couldn't. Regardless of my own situation, I couldn’t see myself building a nest, even for a single night, on the foundation of someone else's misery.
I was still staring at the place. "You know what? I'll just get a hotel or something."
"No. You won't."
"Why not?"
His voice hardened. "Because you owe me."
I whirled to face him. "For what?"
Zane leaned back in his seat. "I told you I'd be calling in a favor."
I remembered no such thing. "When?"
"Before New York."
I tried to think. And then, it hit me. He must be referring to that conversation we'd had in his office, right after the Fergus flower fiasco. All too well, I recalled how relieved I'd been to learn that I wasn't being fired.
In hindsight, it was almost funny. After all, it had only delayed my dismissal by less than two weeks.
I told Zane, "You've got a lot of nerve. You know that?"
"Maybe. But you're staying, anyway."
I turned to look in the general direction of the guard shack. From what I'd seen as we pulled through the gate, security had been noticeably upgraded. The guard manning the gatenowhad looked more military than mall cop, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this new, upgraded security could be used to keep peopleinas well as keep them out.
It wasn't a comforting thought.
Testing my theory, I said, "Let's say Idostay. Can I leave whenever I want?"
Zane's jaw tightened. "You're not my prisoner, if that's what you're asking."
Heat flooded my face. Of course, it had been a stupid question. If hereallywanted to keep me prisoner, he'd be dragging me into his basement, not offering me the use of a luxury home.
In spite of my irritation, I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit ashamed. Already, he'd gone to a good bit of trouble on my behalf, and here I was, acting all paranoid.
I was so confused, I didn't know what to do.
Apologize?
Thank him?
Or run for the hills?
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think. Maybe I'd just stay for the night and figure everything out tomorrow, after a good night's sleep – assuming that I could sleep at all.
In the end, I let him lead me out of the limo and into the house.
Unfortunately, what I saw there only made me feel worse.
