Page 7 of Hunted Temptation
Tilting my head to the side, I let out a heavy sigh. I will never be able to get away. I know I’m stuck here, in this house and in this fucked-up world, probably until the day I die. My father will never let me leave. He will never release me, never allow me to be free.
I wonder off-handedly if my father gets paid for my services.
Services.
What a joke.
It’s not a freaking service. It’s me being forced to do what I do, to him and whoever else he schedules. It’s men who are perverts. Men with money, men with power. I don’t know how they’re powerful, but I know they are. My father wouldn’t be associated with them in this way if they weren’t.
And on top of all that, it’s pure hell.
Every second of being me is hell. It feels as if I’m under a microscope every minute of every day. Dipping my chin, I rest my forehead against the cool window, keeping my hand pressed against the glass as if it’s some kind of lifeline to the outside world.
It’s not.
I’m not part of that world. I never was, and I never will be. Sure, when it’s necessary, I’m paraded around like some kind of show animal. The community needs to see the perfect daughter of the police chief. They need to know just how amazing and perfect he continues to be.
Hiding in plain sight is what he is. And the whole town is none the wiser. My spine straightens, and I lift my head as a thought slides through my mind. What if I’m not the only one?
I’ve never questioned if there are others like me, used the way I’m used. Could it be? Could I be one of many? My stomach twists at the thought, and I also feel extremely stupid for not having thought of that before. I’ve been so lost inside my own head, my own demons, that it’s never even crossed my mind.
Even as the questions swirl, I wouldn’t know how to find out. I wouldn’t know what I would do with the information. Who would I go to? I couldn’t run to the police, I couldn’t go to the sheriff out in the county, I couldn’t go to the highway patrol.
Every single man in charge within a hundred miles knows exactly who my father is, and if that man doesn’t know my father personally, then he either respects him too much or is too scared of him to actually do anything about anything. And that’s onlyif any of them would believe me, which, based on personal past experiences alone, they indeed would not.
So, that leaves me exactly where I was five minutes ago.
Hopeless.
VAUGHN
I seeher standing at the window. She’s fucking beautiful, even from this distance. I mean, I could look over to the computer and see a clearer image of her, but I don’t want to. This is the version of her I want to see right now.
Her head shifts forward, her forehead touching the glass of the window, her palm pressed against it as well. I’ve done some research on her while I watched her sleep on the living room sofa.
Elodie Scoggins. She recently graduated from the local high school in the top half of her class. No extracurriculars. No social media. No friends I could find anywhere. Her father, on the other hand, although I have his background memorized, I started looking into his community involvement.
Which is heavy.
He’s not just a little involved. He’s overinvolved. He is all about appearances. He needs approval, craves it. He inserts himself in the middle of the community not just because he’s a police chief, but because he’s overcompensating.
He’s overcompensating for being a gigantic piece of shit.
She straightens her spine. Her hand drops from the glass before she turns and walks away. Once she’s gone, I turn toward the computer and watch as she slips into bed. I need to stop focusing on her and do my job, but she’s part of the job… That’s what I’ve convinced myself of.
He doesn’t return to the house until well after ten in the morning, almost noon. Elodie is still asleep. Not sure if it’s quality, because she was up so late. Scoggins parks his car in the driveway, then I watch as he unfolds from the driver’s seat before walking inside.
Placing my palms on the desk, I can’t look away as he moves through his house. Tilting my head to the side, I take him in. He’s not doing anything a normal man wouldn’t do after work, but he wasn’t at work. He couldn’t have been. I don’t know any city where the chief works nights.
Now that I’m logged into the house cameras, I can see them moving around, and I can focus on when and where to follow him because I will be doing that. I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to take my eyes off her during the process.
I don’t think I will.
There is something bigger happening with this girl. Her haunted eyes, her sneaking out only to come right back, and then making a whole plate of dinner just to put it all back and go to sleep.
Elodie is the most interesting part of this, not only because I want her, but because she intrigues me—completely and wholly. I want to figure her out.
Scoggins doesn’t go to his bedroom like a man who would do after a night of working. He walks into the kitchen, grabs a bottle of beer, opens it, tilts his head back, and empties half the contents in one gulp.
