Page 62 of Waiting for Fate
“Mr. Acherley.” Donovan offers him a hand to shake.
I grab the handle of my suitcase from his other hand and step around them both. Shiloh scowls as I duck beneath his arm and walk into his apartment. My shoes are toed off by a fancy table in the entryway, and I leave my stuff in a pile beside them.
This place is insane. The view alone is worth the price he must pay to live here. I can see all of Starbugh spread out below us. Whatever glass the building architects used must dull the sound from outside, though, because there is a blissful lack of traffic noise.
An open concept living room and kitchen area makes up most of this corner of the apartment. It’s all dark hardwoods and stainless steel fixtures. His kitchen is so clean I wonder if he’s ever used it. He seems like a takeout kind of guy.
Buttery soft leather couches sit caddy corner in the living area. I sink into one, still exhausted from the chaos of the night before. Maybe I should ask Shiloh where he got his couches. I would love to have one of these in my nest.
“I see you’ve made yourself at home.”
Groaning, I turn my face into the soft material and pretend like I cannot hear him. I may be forced to co-inhabit his space for a few days; that doesn’t mean we are suddenly on good standing. The ground beneath our feet shattered ice, one second away from splitting and sending us both crashing into frigid waters.
“Ignoring me is quite childish, but if you refuse to speak, fine. You can listen instead. While you are staying here, you will pick up after yourself. I do not tolerate messes.”
I can hear his feet hitting the floor as he paces by the windows behind me. The sound is oddly comforting. Almost rhythmic. What a weird thing to be soothed by.
“Your work schedule is being adjusted to match my own so that I may drive you to and from the office each day. If you have any outside appointments that cannot be rescheduled, forward them to me in an email, so I may add them to my calendar.”
Sleep makes my eyes heavy, and my body relaxes at the sound of his voice. I feel like I am floating as he continues to lay down the rules for my stay, drifting to dreamland made of sunny shores and gently lapping ocean waves. It’s been so long since I caught a hint of his amber and white sand scent, I’d forgotten how wonderful he smells.
Something fluffy lands on my shoulders, tickling my cheek for a few brief seconds before it is tucked around my neck. I burrow deeper into the feeling. My mind supplies the knowledge that Shiloh has wrapped a blanket around me, and I faintly wonder why he even cares. The thought floats away on the ocean breeze, leaving me to enjoy my temporary vacation from reality.
CHAPTER THIRTY
GETTING WOKEN BYa phone call at eight in the morning on a Sunday is not my ideal start to the day. Swiping the device from my nightstand, I frown at the unknown number on the screen. I am tempted to ignore it, but my instincts tell me that would be a mistake.
“Shiloh Acherley.”
“Ah, good morning, Mr. Acherley. I apologize for the early call. My name is Donovan Griffith.”
Curious. Why is a DAU leader reaching out to me? With the Montgomery cult being dismantled, I assumed the threats against the label would lessen. “What can I do for you, Mr. Griffith?”
“I spoke with your brother and other leaders at the FCDA,” he explains.
I guess Jericho gave him my number. Not that I can be upset with my brother. He is always looking out for my staff’s safety.
“With both of our agencies spread thin tackling the situation in New Hampshire and tracking the breeding ring active here on the East Coast, we have found ourselves in a bit of a situation. Jericho suggested you may be able to help.”
“And what situation would that be? I’m afraid I don’t have much leeway to help financially. That is a decision that all the label executives would need to make together.”
Donovan barks a short laugh. “No, we don’t need that kind of help. Though donations are always appreciated. You have met Bea and Omen Powell, correct?”
My body jerks upright hearing her name, heart racing as a thousand thoughts fly through my head. Has something happened? It isn’t a stretch to believe the scattered Montgomery cult members could target Omen for her role in bringing their leader down. She and Bea share an apartment, which would make both omegas face the same danger.
“I have,” I grit the words between clenched teeth. Every particle of my being is urging me to rush out of my apartment and track Bea down. I need to see with my own eyes that she is unharmed.
“Last night, someone attempted to break into their apartment. The police arrived quickly, but the intruder fled before they could apprehend them.”
Fucking Fates. Who the fuck dared to try to go after my omega?!
“We need to move both girls to safer locations, which is where our problem arises.”
I connect the dots quickly. They want to send Bea to stay with me until the threat against her is resolved. My apartment building is the safest in the city, and I could provide a secure means for her to get to and from the office. Am I prepared to have her in my space for an undetermined amount of time? Her scent permeating every inch of my apartment and car?
“Sabine can stay with me.” The words slip from my lips before my mind has time to fully process what I am agreeing to. If her options are to stay with me, or be sent elsewhere, I’d rather know her safety was in my hands.
“Perfect. Thank you. Both girls are still asleep, so we likely won’t be dropping Bea off until early to mid-afternoon. If you could set up her access to your apartment before then, that would be beneficial.”
