Deception by Aleatha Romig
“Mr. Demetri, for the last thirty hours I’ve concentrated on you and Miss Collins. You’re both alive and safe. That was my prime objective.”
“Tell me that Charli is still in Westchester and dear old Dad hasn’t made any more calls.”
“She is and he hasn’t. As she told you, she’s demanding to go to class tomorrow.”
I ran my free hand through my hair as I collapsed on the sofa. “I’d rather have her safe where she is. That house is a fortress.” My chest seized as I started to say that it was the safest place for her to be, but I knew that even in that haven, tragedy could happen.
As I collected my thoughts, Deloris spoke. “It is. Obviously, what happened before won’t happen again. Silvia is there. She’s making sure.”
Silvia had been gone that horrible night. She was never gone—or at least rarely. I hadn’t known Jo would be alone for the night. It wasn’t like there would have been others in our apartment. I was working. But at least if she’d been in the city there would have been people nearby instead of iron gates and impenetrable perimeters.
“What’s the new guy’s name?” I asked, changing the subject to Charli’s new bodyguard.
“Clayton. He’s not new.”
“Jerrod wasn’t new either.” The day had been too long. My filter was gone.
“Jerrod swears he didn’t intend any harm. It was simply a family request or so he was told.”
I was immediately on my feet. “And he fucking thinks that’s okay, to deliver secret letters to my girlfriend who’s living in my home? The man is fired.”
“Yes, sir. That wasn’t a question.”
“Make sure Clayton is with her. I don’t care if he has to sit in her damn class.”
“She told you about the GPS on her phone?”
“Yes,” I answered with a little less determination.
Earlier today when I’d called Charli, she didn’t answer and her GPS was off. Well, when she called back, I was on the verge of blowing a gasket.
My head was about to explode.
My voice alone should have fucking scared the shit out of her. If she’d been next to me, instead of states away, I would have tanned her fine ass and asked questions later. The thought made my lips quirk to a grin. She wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Hell, even the threat of a spanking didn’t unsettle her.
I had a sudden flashback of how she’d even asked for it.
Before I left she fucking told me to do it.
Instead of backing down or apologizing like anyone else with any sense would have done, when I answered her call with my tirade, my Charli laughed, a sweet harmony rippling through the phone and effectively silencing my slew of accusations.
For a moment, her reaction silenced everything I’d planned to say. The rage and helplessness at not knowing her exact location, of not being sure of her safety, dissipated into the ring of her laughter.
She had no way of knowing how deeply she affected me. In my dark world of secrets and deals, she was the light—a breath of fresh air in a smoke-filled room. She filled me with a promise of something that I’d forgotten existed—a promise of more, of love, laughter, and life.
I shook my head, concentrating on Deloris rather than the images I created in my head by combining memories with desires. After I got off this call, I’d see if I could interest Charli in phone sex. It wouldn’t be as good as the real thing, but right now, it would have to do. God knew, I certainly wasn’t interested in the waitress downstairs.
“…will have it tomorrow.”
“What? Sorry, I was distracted. You’ll have what tomorrow?”
“The GPS chip.”
“Shit,” I replied. “I wasn’t serious when I told Charli I’d have one implanted.”
“That’s possible,” Deloris said matter-of-factly. “But that wasn’t what I just described. The chip I’m talking about is small, charged by solar power. As long as she wears it in the sun or even under most artificial light, it will stay charged.”
I tried to imagine what she was saying. “Wear what?”
“Jewelry, Lennox. Maybe our connection is bad?”
Or maybe I was busy daydreaming about Charli’s reddened ass and wasn’t listening. “That must be it,” I said. “What kind of jewelry?”
“Necklace. It’s even waterproof. She can shower in it. Though I’d recommend she take it off to swim.”
Or bathe?
Deloris went on as I tried to keep at bay the images of Charli submerged in a tub of bubbles, “…and with this, you can pinpoint her location even if the GPS locator on her phone is turned off. As she probably told you, we weren’t the only ones who could see the GPS signal on her phone. So could her parents. They know she’s here, that she’s at your house in Rye.”
I took a deep breath. Charli had told me that and about Oren too. Unfortunately, my father’s knowledge of our near brush with death wasn’t due to a picture on the Internet; it was because of me. I called him and ranted about the shooting, certain there were family ties. During my tirade, I’d told him that Charli and I were in Westchester.
“Yes,” I said, “Charli told me. She also said you spoke to her stepfather.”
“Yes, interesting man.”
“I hear more of a story?”
“Another day perhaps,” Deloris said. “My plate is overflowing.”
“I like the jewelry idea,” I admitted. “Did she agree?”
“In principle. I don’t have the necklace yet, but I hope she’ll be all right with it.”
“Find out about Chelsea. If we blew it and she can’t be with Davis, get her out of Infidelity. You got Charli out. Get Chelsea out too. I don’t care if she’s expecting the job. Get her something else that pays as well. I’ve been uncomfortable about involving her from the beginning. I can’t imagine what Charli would say. Chelsea is her best friend.”
“Let me work on it. I’ll keep you posted. And tomorrow, after Alex is back in the city, I’ll fly to DC and install the GPS software on your phone and Isaac’s. With the way things have been going, I’m not even trusting our network to send you the links. After I put the app on your phones, you’ll both have access to her whereabouts.” She paused. “Are you still okay with Isaac?”
I didn’t need to consider my answer. “Yes. Jerrod is one thing, but Isaac’s been with me almost as long as you have.” I hesitated. “You don’t have reason to suspect him?”
“No, I don’t, but after Jerrod, I’m watching everyone.”
I KNEW IT was my imagination. Nox’s home in Rye wasn’t Montague Manor. There weren’t shadows lurking behind locked doors. And yet after finishing dinner and retiring to the room Silvia referred to as mine, the one where Nox had brought me earlier in the day, I had the strange sensation of being surrounded by knowing spirits. They were the ghosts of occupants past.
Not literal ghosts. There weren’t white floating figures swirling about the room; nevertheless, I felt a strange combination of safety and danger—a reassuring calm in the interior stillness while an alarm wailed beyond the walls.
All day I’d longed to go outside, to feel the sun on my skin. Now it seemed as if the heavens had opened, purging the sins from the air as the roar of the wind howled beyond the wooden blinds. Though my childish imagination could make it into more, it was simply a late summer storm. Very common as warm days clashed with cooler nights. Winds raged and torrents of rain peppered the windows, the latter’s crash loud enough to mimic a spray of ricocheting bullets.
Stop it!
Not a good image.
Washing my face and brushing my teeth, I prepared for bed and contemplated the ups and downs of the day. When I woke this morning, I had no idea what to expect in my relationship with Nox. Was it done or at least paused? I had been nervous and confused, unsure of how I felt or where we stood.
As I changed into something more comfortable, that feeling seemed like it occurred a lifetime ago—before we thwarted death, before we consummated our new declarations o
It was as if every answer was wrapped in a hundred questions.
The best part about being here in his home was getting to know Silvia. She was the only family Nox seemed to claim. Though they weren’t related, I remembered the day he’d told me that he understood how Chelsea and I were as close as sisters. He’d said he didn’t have siblings, but that some bonds were stronger than blood. I had the feeling that included Silvia.
As the day progressed, Silvia and I became better acquainted. She willingly shared how she’d worked for the Demetris since she was very young. By the way she spoke of Nox’s mother, I got the feeling that they had been close. When she spoke of her youth, Silvia said that she began working too young, not even finishing school until Angelina stepped in. After Silvia’s father died, earning money was the most important thing to her mother. If that meant selling her teenage daughter off as domestic help, she did it.
The Demetris weren’t her first employers. At thirteen she’d gone to work for a wealthy family member of Angelina’s. As I listened to her stories, I began to construct a family history, one that Nox had yet to share.
I knew how Nox and I felt about learning one another’s private information, but the way I saw it, he was the one to leave me alone with Silvia. The first time I’d met her, she offered to tell me stories of a teenage Lennox. He had to know what would happen.
In our time together, Nox and I had limited what we had shared about our past. All I knew about his family was that his mother passed after she and Oren divorced, how Oren had started Demetri Enterprises, and how Nox didn’t believe his father appreciated his dedication to the business.
Silvia commented more than once that Oren and Lennox were more similar than either cared to admit. They were both determined, hardworking, and stubborn. From what I knew, I couldn’t help but agree—especially with her last assessment.
In every instance, Silvia spoke fondly of Angelina. Apparently, Silvia had worked for Lennox’s mother until the day she died. She even admitted that she’d almost moved away after Angelina passed. She no longer needed the Demetris financially. Angelina had ensured her economic independence. Silvia admitted that she probably would have left were it not for Lennox.
After the support Angelina had given to her, Silvia wanted to fill that role for Lennox. Despite their relative closeness in age, she wanted to be there for him.
I wanted to ask about Oren and why he was absent, but I didn’t want to interrupt her memories.
She shared as we sat, cooked, and ate. Intertwined throughout each story were innuendos that there was more than she could say. Though I didn’t fully understand exactly what she meant, I’d already learned that it would take more than a couple months with Lennox Demetri to make sense of his world.
I supposed it would be the same for him, if he were at Montague Manor. Perhaps that was one of the elements that drew us together, a shared sadness for childhoods lost.
By the time I retired for the evening, I sensed that Silvia and I were now friends. Since Nox’s happiness was one of her priorities, I knew that she was someone I wanted on my side. The only unsettling feeling I had while at Westchester, besides the obvious external threat, was when Silvia and Deloris were together. Maybe it was simply because my day had been too long and too dramatic. Maybe I was seeing clues that weren’t there. But I got the feeling they weren’t close.
Now as I settled in my room with a warm cup of Earl Gray tea, I longed for the reassurance I’d felt sitting with Silvia. Instead, as the wind blew and the rain coming off the sound pounded against the windows, I was tired and uneasy. My mind was a blur with all that had happened, and I wanted nothing more than to rest in Nox’s arms and feel his strength around me as he protected me from the ghosts and shadows.
Though I wanted to call him, I hesitated. Nox was working, away doing whatever it was he did. Oren had all but said I was a distraction. Calling Nox would only confirm his father’s opinion. I hated comparing Nox to Alton, but I truly had no other reference. I rarely remembered my mother talking, or wanting to talk to Alton when he was away.
So instead of calling Nox, I tried Chelsea.
Her phone rang three times before going to voicemail.
“Hey girl,” I said, trying to sound more upbeat than I felt. “Let me know when you’re coming in to New York City. I know you have that big secret job in DC.” And then the thought occurred to me. “Oh my goodness, Nox is in DC for business. Maybe I’ll be able to visit you there when my classes allow. In the meantime, I’m ready for some girl time. Things have been… well, this message isn’t long enough to finish that sentence. We need wine. Tell me you’re getting to New York before Friday. I miss you! Call me.”
I disconnected the call even more uneasy with not being able to reach her. Since leaving Montague over four years ago, after my graduation from the academy, I’d always been with Chelsea and then with Nox. I told myself that it was normal to feel alone. I just needed to face it. After all, I was the one who had planned to live alone in that apartment. Well, I had considered a cat.
As I was about to pull back the covers, it occurred to me that this was the same bed where earlier Nox and I had come back together—literally.
My face flushed as I recalled his passion and hunger. The way he looked at me, needing to assure himself with his eyes and touch that I was whole and unscathed.
My mind couldn’t process that someone as possessive and protective as Nox could or would ever hurt his wife.
He wouldn’t.
I just wanted to know why he felt responsible. Had something like today happened? Patrick had mentioned a hit.
Then a realization struck that changed my train of thought. The bed was made.
No longer merely flushed, heat filled my cheeks, no doubt turning them redder than my hair. I hadn’t made the bed. I was certain Nox didn’t.
That meant the entire time I was getting to know Silvia, she already knew me or about Nox and me, about how close we were.
As that embarrassing thought resonated through my consciousness, my phone rang.
My sullen heart leapt, hoping it was Chelsea.
“Hello,” I answered, not looking at the screen, but knowing that the tune meant it was a friend versus a foe.
“What the hell, little cousin?”
I grinned, hearing Patrick’s voice.
“Yes, sorry for the cryptic message earlier today.”
After Deloris and I talked about what I could say, I simply left Pat a message saying I wouldn’t be staying there tonight. I didn’t mention anything other than that Nox and I were fine. Leaving details of my day on his voicemail didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Cryptic?” Pat asked. “Girl, I couldn’t have figured that out with a decoder ring. All it told me was that you were well enough to call. At least hearing your voice left me a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. What the hell happened?”
I recalled Deloris’s advice—keep it simple. “After you left the apartment, I told Nox I wanted to walk to class. Well, you know him?” I didn’t wait for him to respond. “He’s not very big on my walking alone.”
“Apparently he has reason!”
I ignored Pat’s comment and continued, “Nox walked with me and while we were in the park, chaos broke out. It was frightening. I didn’t see much. It all happened so fast. Nox has… people.”
“A good looking man with people. Jackpot!”
I shrugged. “This time I’m not complaining. The people were a good thing. They whisked in from the commotion and took us away.”
“You don’t think that what happened—the shot—was meant for one of you, do you?”
“Shot? So you heard about it?”
“Heard? I saw your face pop up on my news app. It scared the shit out of me.”
It was
“I have no way of knowing who the person was shooting at,” I replied, “but why? Why would anyone want to do that?”
“Little cousin, I don’t know. I’m just glad you’re both okay. I saw on that news app that the woman who was shot is in stable condition.”
A bit of the fog that had begun to settle around me lifted. “That’s great news.”
“So I imagine you’ll be staying wherever Mr. Good-looking has you hidden away for what, the next year?”
I shook my head, now sitting against the headboard, my legs tucked under the blankets. “No, I’ve got class. I’ll be back in the city tomorrow.”
“You? What about Mr. Good-looking?”
My cheeks rose. “Why don’t you or Chelsea call him by his name?”
“I don’t know. I like Mr. Good-looking. If your friend calls him the same, she and I’ll get along fine.”
“She calls him Mr. Handsome.”
“Same difference,” Patrick replied.
“Mr. Whatever-You-All-Want-To-Call-Him is working out of town. I was going to call you and ask if maybe I could—”
“If you could shack up with Mr. Sex Appeal himself?”
“So now we all have code names?”
“You’re the one living in a spy movie. I want some of the action.”
“Okay, so Mr. Sex Appeal? You’re saying that Cy will be back? That’s his code name, right?” I asked with a grin.
“Oh, little cousin, that hurts. I was referring to me.”
“How about I just call you Pat? We can say it’s short for Mr. Sex Appeal.”
“That works for me, and Cy won’t be back until Friday. You’re always welcome. You know that.”
“Thanks. I’m waiting to hear from Chelsea. She’s due in the city tomorrow or Friday. I’m so messed up with everything, I can’t remember.”
“We can have a slumber party.”
“I love that idea,” I said, “but if she gets in, she’ll want to hang out at the apartment on 112th.”