Page 37 of Death

My eyes fly to his face, and seeing his wet hair and how much more handsome it makes him look, I quickly glance away again.

It doesn’t matter what Santiago looks like. Nolan came across as normal. Enough for my father to hire him as a guard.

Not all vile men look like monsters on the outside.

“Are you okay with this bedroom?” Santiago asks.

I just nod.

“There are clothes for you in the walk-in closet, and you’ll find everything you need in the bathroom. Shower and put on dry clothes.”

I nod again, then listen as he walks out of the room. When I don’t hear the door shut, I glance over my shoulder.

He’s not locking me inside.

I take off the shoes before I tiptoe to the door, and peeking into the hallway, I see Santiago go into another room.

I glance down the other side of the hallway and don’t see anyone.

He left me alone?

I quickly hurry in the direction of the stairs, but then I glance over the banister, and seeing a man dressed in a black combat uniform, I come to a sudden halt. He’s carrying a machine gun, like the ones our guards used to have back home.

My heartbeat speeds up, and before the man can notice me, I run back to the bedroom and quickly shut the door.

I take a few steps backward, then spin around and rush to the French doors. I yank them open, and stepping out onto the balcony, I glance over the massive backyard that doesn’t seem to end. My fear grows when I count more than a dozen guards.

Oh God. This place is heavily guarded.

There’s a heavy feeling in my gut because I won’t ever be able to escape.

Chapter 12

SANTIAGO

While waiting for the water to warm up in the shower, I take my phone out of my pocket and check the device for water damage. When I see it’s still working, I quickly grab the hand towel by the sink and dry it.

After setting the phone down on the counter, I strip out of my wet clothes and step beneath the warm spray.

My thoughts turn to the incident on the veranda. The second Ciara saw Pedro, she ran, but she didn’t try to flee from the women.

I keep alternating between the person who held her captive being a woman or man. My men still haven’t found any leads, so we’re fucked on that front.

It’s been two weeks, and I still only know her first name. Maybe I’ll be able to get some information out of her during lunch.

I quickly wash my body before rinsing the suds off. Shutting the faucets, I grab a towel, and while I dry myself, my thoughts are filled with Ciara.

My movements still as I stare at nothing specific.

With every passing day, I feel increasingly protective of her. I already care a fuck ton about her. The moment I saw her, I knew she was the one. Every time she lifts her baby blue eyes and looks at me with fear, I just want to grab her to me and make her feel safe.

I’ve always been affected by the women I save. I felt for every single one, but with Ciara, it cuts deep, knowing she suffered because I didn’t find her sooner.

It was pure fucking luck that I saw her running through the field. If we had left earlier or later, I would have missed her, and God only knows what would’ve become of her.

I shake my head and drop the towel before heading to my closet. I step into my boxers, then grabbing a pair of black silk pants and a matching shirt, I put them on.

When I’m dressed, I don’t bother with shoes as I don’t plan to go anywhere for the rest of the day.

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