Page 49 of Scarred Sins
I chuckle, approach her, and breathe out in relief that she’s not hurt. Or that this isn’t a torture chamber or an armory.
Deciding it’s more than enough for one day to snoop, I clap my hands together, signaling for her to jump into my arms. I’m in front of her, my back facing the monitors behind. She’s not having it. Her eyes flutter open, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead.
It takes me a while to get her to sit up, stretch, and then jump into my arms.
To irritate me further, she jumps with so much force that I’m forced to lean against the desk, shaking it a little.
It was an accident – I didn’t mean to do it, but now that it’s happened, the urge to turn around and look wins easily. Curiosity gets the best of me, and the last bits of morality I have fly out of the window.
Breath gets stuck in my throat, my body paralyzed.
It’s surreal. Anything would’ve been better than this revelation. Of course, I’m aware of how much Arlo had been stalking me and that he was always near, but this exceeded everything I ever thought I knew about the situation.
I never knew just how close he was to me.
A few of the monitors show live footage from the penthouse, which isn’t that weird. Given his job, he needs to protect himself, and using cameras isn’t surprising to me at all.
It’s the rest that makes me feel strange.
One monitor in particular catches my attention.
It’s live footage, but from a weird angle. It just shows my forearm.
As if the time slows down, my eyes dart to Arson’s collar, brows knitting together as I take it in my palms, inspecting it. Then, I look back at the screen, seeing my side profile. A low laugh of disbelief slips from my lips as I try to comprehend the severity of his obsession.
He put a fucking camera in Arson’s collar.
Memories flood my mind instantly. Frequently, back in Long Grove, Arson followed me to the bathroom while I showered. She acted like a guard, of sorts. She was always in the room while I was changing my clothes.
And Arlo was able to watch it happen in real time.
I was fucking clueless.
It just proves that no man can be trusted. He preaches respect, but he took the choice away from me. Just like Paul Simmons, he doesn’t actually care how I feel, what I need, and that above anything else, I’m a human being.
Tears pool in my eyes, and I can’t move. I refuse to believe this is reality; I refuse to believe that the first man I ever let in would do something like this.
I never should’ve allowed him to keep me in here.
I never should’ve trusted him.
FOURTEEN
Blair is acting odd.
She’s shutting me out, barely speaking to me. The most I’ve seen her in two days was when I brought food to the bedroom. That’s when it finally clicks in my head.
She started acting weird when the storm hit the city, right after I went to see Zoe Adams. For reasons she’s not willing to disclose yet. Blair hates the idea of having someone like Zoe help us, and that’s fucking strange.
Because as of right now, it’s only Zoe that knows just how dark Nelson’s secrets are and what exactly he’s up to. With her help, not only will we be able to locate the girls quicker, but we’ll also be able to get this over with before Simmons runs for president.
This morning, everything is in a haze. I was rushing to reach my parents house because Dad called me, and it wasn’t a social gathering. Mom got hurt during a job she wasn’t supposed to be taking and was in the hospital.
Quickly, I wrapped up Blair’s breakfast and left it outside of her door, knocking twice, letting her know that there’s food waiting for her. I tossed on the first pair of pants and a sweatshirt I could find, grabbed my helmet and bike keys.
But not the apartment keys.
Nope.
