Page 96 of Collateral Claim
The timed air freshener whooshes as it refreshes the air in the room.
Sharing silence with Endo while lying on top of the fluffy bed sheets in our one bed is awkward. I wonder what he’s thinking about, but I refrain from asking.
“It smells nice here,” I say after a few minutes. I guess I feel the need to fill the silence with small talk.
Endo grunts.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He looks at me from the side. “Take a guess.”
“You’re not okay.”
Another grunt. He tilts his gaze toward the ceiling, then to the right. It feels oddly deliberate, like he’s signaling something. I follow his gaze and frown when I find nothing. Like I said, I don’t read gangster signs well, even when I try.
“We are being watched,” he says.
Ah. I sit up and look around. “Where? Why? That is…” I press my lips together so as not to sound utterly normal while protesting the violation of my privacy inside a mansion run by a murderer.
Endo smiles. “You can say it. Go on.”
“You’ll make fun of me.”
“I won’t. I want to know what you think.”
“That’s a violation of privacy. It’s wrong.” I walk around the bedroom and then the bathroom, trying to uncover the cameras. I see nothing. “Are you guessing, or do you actually see the cameras?”
“I see one, which tells me there are more.”
“How about the bathroom?” I ask as I check the upper corners.
“Probably near the mirror.”
I can’t see a thing. I pick up a lotion, pop the cap, and sniff. Lavender and citrus. Makes me think of clean sheets.
I hear Slada and one of the twins. She’s staying with us in the bedroom across the living room. I’m unsure where they’re sleeping.
I come out of the bathroom and lean against the decorative shutters separating the bedroom and the bathroom and facing the bed.
Endo yawns and rubs his face. “Remain inside the room for the next hour while Connor disables the cameras.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
I nod.
“You don’t want to argue about being trapped in here with me?”
“Better the devil I know than the one outside who gives me the creeps.”
“Good.” Endo tucks his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. His soul wants to sleep, but his mind won’t let him because he’s being watched and is in enemy territory. But I hope he can get some rest.
I tiptoe toward the door.
“Scarlett?”
“Hm?”
