Page 148 of Stand: Part One
They were shitheads, but they were my shitheads.
I’d built a complicated relationship with them, one that I would never recreate with anyone else. But if things went according to plan in the next few days, none of it would even matter anyway.
The hard truth was there’d be no room for them in my life when I finally broke free of Darren’s grip. They likely wouldn’t have survived the fallout anyway. Hell, they would have likely followed Darren’s orders to the very end, no matter what I wanted.
At least it saved me from having to kill them myself, although I would have made it far less brutal, and much, much quicker. But my grief compared little to the pressure in my heart at the thought of my next incredibly time-sensitive challenge.
Convincing Darren to take me to the country estate.
Considering the trauma of what I had just gone through, I shouldn’t have any issues so long as I played the correct role.
Darren grilled me for nearly an hour last night, extracting as much information out of me as he could since the cameras had captured absolutely nothing last night, and I was the sole survivor.
I tried to stick as close to the truth as possible, voicing uncertainties due to the darkness, and performing the exact story I had rehearsed in my head for what felt like hours while waiting for Darren to return to the hotel.
At one point, I considered trying harder to get out of that damn chair, but I figured the image would benefit me if he saw me still in the midst of trying to escape, hoping for an emotional advantage.
And it must have worked for something because Darren made sure Camaro was with me during his interrogation, a gesture I took comfort in…until the moment I had to open my mouth.
With every lie I spoke, I heard the phantom lash of Darren’s belt striking my skin, the sickness of my betrayal shredding my stomach to ribbons. I could feel my throat literally start to close up at the memory of his hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing so hard I was sure death had finally come for me.
The more he questioned me, the more I could see the door of the basement creaking open in the back of my mind, threatening me with another round of horrors. Lying to him was now a terrifying act that was exhausting to conceal, yet somehow, I managed to pull it off. Or maybe I hadn’t, and Darren was just waiting for another opportune moment to crush my spirit again.
My demeanor had honestly been all over the place—angry, scared, bitter, confused, vengeful—it all had its place, and for now, Darren seemed satisfied with my answers, or lack thereof. My exhaustion had somehow granted me enough clemency to adjourn his investigation for the night. Who knew what he might ask me today.
You’d think Matt would have given me a little more to work with to corroborate my story, but if our plans were successful, then Darren wouldn’t have much time to act on my deceitfulness anyway. Because hopefully he’d be fucking dead, and I would be long gone.
I doubted I would even have to worry about Daniel coming after me. With Darren gone, it would probably be a lot easier for Matt to finally take him out.
Now, I just had to hope I was up for round two. But after what I accomplished with Darren last night and the other night at the club, I had faith in my abilities.
Considering my current disposition this morning, it wouldn’t require much effort.
Forcing myself from the bed, I cracked my neck and stretched my arms above my head, yawning away my exhaustion. Getting out of bed was the last thing I felt like doing, but it was already nearing 11:00 a.m., and I needed to show some strength today if I was going to achieve my goal.
Standing, I reached for my robe, slipping it on and making my way into the bathroom. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I took a good look at myself in the mirror.
Scrapes, bruises, and massive swelling overwhelmed my face and neck, the weight of which left my skull feeling way too heavy. My hair was matted on one side, and my eyes were red and irritated. With the state of my being, I doubted it would be difficult to suspect me of anything but sincerity.
After brushing my hair until my arms hurt, I exited the bathroom and changed into a casual black tank top dress and then called Camaro from her bed to follow me out.
Moving down the hallway, I noticed that all the mess from earlier had been cleaned up and replaced. It was as if nothing had ever even happened. But the moment I stepped out of the hallway and into the sitting room, I locked eyes with six guards standing very stiffly throughout the room. No one said a single word, the silence too awkward for my liking.
“Morning,” I said carefully to all of them, my tone more than apprehensive.
“Good morning, Mrs. Davis,” they all said in return.
My heart cracked slightly at the realization that my routine was going to change now that I was two bodyguards short. Depending on how soon Darren found my replacements, I would have to acclimate another pair to my lifestyle and shit-stirring attitude. And that would be a new source of frustration.
“So, uh, anyone know where Darren is?” I asked aloud.
“He’s on a phone call.” I saw Scott from the corner of my eye. He walked into the room and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall. “He’ll be in once he’s done. In the meantime, you should eat something.”
Ignoring Scott’s comment, I slowly padded through the room, stopping momentarily to catch the massive blood stains covering the carpet. The same spot where Clive and Owen had died. My stomach soured at the memory. They could clean up the mess everywhere else, but not the bloodstains in the carpet?
Biting back my bitterness, I rounded the stain and made my way toward the dining room table to find a wide spread of breakfast foods. I was interested in none of it.
Scott lingered in the corner of the room, his arms still tightly folded as he remained in the same position. I could feel his eyes on me as I placed some fruit on my plate and sat down. He was watching me way too closely for some reason.
