Page 153 of Possession

Rocco just left to make the money drop.

I walked him to the front door. It took all my willpower not to force him to hug me goodbye and promise to be more careful than he’s ever been.

I didn’t. I’m pretty proud of myself that I was able to keep my cool and act like today isn’t life altering.

You know, normal.

I chatted on and on about going to dinner tonight to celebrate his GED. Little does he know, there will be no meal and no festivities. The night will consist of me freaking out that he won’t make the right choice.

After today, I’m taking a huge step, but the choice is all mine. I’m crossing a line—one from being born into a life of crime and greed and being controlled by my father to moving over to the good—a new start with Braxton Cruz. My life will look completely different than it ever has. I cannot wait.

If Rocco doesn’t make the right choice, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I’m proud of myself for holding it together since we got back. I’ve fought harder to be normal than I ever thought possible.

Normal has never been so hard.

Rocco leaving feels wrong. Our unit is no longer intact.

I’m on my way back to our room to pretend to read my book when I hear Spencer. His loafers quickly click against the marble and echo through the quiet house. He’s speaking in Spanish. I might not understand his rushed words, but his tone causes me to still.

Besides a few phrases I pick up on here and there, all I understand isSeñor Torres, and him agreeing over and over and over with whomever he’s speaking to.

Dammit. My fluency in Spanish is a small step above ordering at an authentic restaurant. I regret not trying harder during those classes in high school.

I pause when Spencer’s swift gait comes to a stop around the corner. I can’t see him, and he has no idea I’m here.

But someone always knows where I am since the damn cameras pick up on everything.

I grip my book and take the steps one at a time, slow and controlled and…

Normal.

But I listen as my bare feet take me silently toward the stairs.

“Sí. No, señor. No entiendo…”

His words speed, and I understand even less than I did before. He’s agitated and arguing with whoever is on the other line. So much, his words turn from conciliatory to angry.

Spencer talks on the phone all the time. He manages this house and coordinates with the guards. June and Miranda report to him. He’s organized, professional, and kind.

And even though I don’t understand ninety percent of what he’s saying, something is…

Off.

“Sí, sí. Adiós.” Spencer’s voice is clipped and agitated, and he doesn’t sound like he’s actually agreeing with anyone on anything. That’s when I hear, “Fuck!”

I hurry for the stairs, but his shoes hit the marble again, and this time he’s not efficient or controlled.

Something is wrong.

Gripping my book in my sweaty palms, I turn the corner for the stairs, but that’s when I come face to face with the butler who does so much more.

My heart pounds in my chest when I see the agitated expression on his face. The last thing I need is to appearnotnormal.

“Hi,” I clip and raise the book two inches. “I’m going to read for a while.”

Spencer’s eyes narrow a touch, shifting to the back of the house before returning to me. “You should do that in Mr. Torres’ office while he works.”

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