Page 48 of Carnival
Arlo claps his hands together. “Let’s go back to the topic. Why would these people want Rose? She was four when her parents died, and if they somehow mentioned something to herabout the black book, she was too young to remember it, and plus, she has the memory gap.’’
“If Vivian thinks that Rose is somehow a key to all of this… that means Rose is in serious danger.’’
Hudson straightens up, realizing the gravity of the situation. He looks at Arlo, eyes filled with determination.
“Put security on her. Tight one, best of our men. They’re to monitor and guard her 24/7. If they fail, kill them.’’
Arlo nods. “Understood.’’
He doesn’t stick around much longer. He casts me a final glance, almost as if to size me up, before leaving the room, closing the door behind him, and leaving me alone with Hudson again.
“Can you move?” He asks.
I start stretching a little, then nod. “Yes. I’m fine.’’
“I don’t give a shit if you’re fine or not; I asked if you could move.’’
A scoff slips from me. “Then, what about me now? Are you killing me?”
“As much as I’d want to, and believe me, there’s nothing I’d like more — no. Your job will be to protect Rose. And make no mistake, I don’t trust you at all. But she does, and that means something because she isn’t a stupid girl. But if a single hair is missing from her head — you’re dead.’’
“I mean… I could always just… keep her locked up.’’
“As if,’’ he snorts. “Rose may not be working for me, but she’s a spitfire. She’ll bite her way out. So, figure it out. I need to focus on finding who Vivian is and where the drive is.’’
“You believe that it exists, then?”
“Trust me, no one would be doing all that work for something that doesn’t exist. Vivian likely has proof that it exists, which is enough for me to find it before she does.’’
“And if you don’t?”
“Then we’re all dead.’’
18
Rose
Isit behind the white vanity Aria bought for my birthday a few years back — the only thing I brought from the De Santis manor into the apartment. It’s white, with my name written in pretty, cursive letters on the top part of the attached mirror. The vanity itself is white, with beautiful light pink roses scattered around.
I brush through my hair, staring at my reflection in the mirror. It’s deadly silent in the apartment, and although Hudson didn’t say anything, I noticed people following me around today. They’re everywhere, and given their tattoos, I could tell immediately whose men they were.
They’re not intrusive or too obvious, but over the years, I learned how to recognize the pattern. They’re here for my protection, and I don’t know what they’re protecting me from. Arlo isn’t saying anything. In fact, he seems to be purposely dodging my calls and making sure our paths aren’t crossing.
Aria, to her credit, just seems clueless.
With a deep breath, I put the brush back on the vanity, the worry evident on my face. I’m mainly worried about James. I managed to get the information out of Noelle, and she told me he wasn’t hurt during the interrogation from Hudson. But if he’s perfectly fine, where the hell is he?
Somehow, I highly doubt he’d go back to New Orleans, not after staking his claim over me multiple times. Besides, Halloween week’s over, and so is the carnival, meaning nothing is tying him to that city now.
I make my way to the bed, crawling under the thick covers and turning the lamp off. I feel safe in my space, and there’s nothing that can change that — at least, that’s what I’m hoping.
My mind is racing with thoughts, James’ face flashing behind my eyes on repeat, like a broken record. The more I think about him, the quicker my heart rate gets. He’s a mysterious man, and up until now, I thought I hated those types of men.
Yet, when it comes to him… I can’t stay away. He’s not letting me stay away, and I’m stuck in a cycle of overthinking and second-guessing every decision I make. It’s not something I’m used to experiencing, and it’s slowly taking a toll on me.
My eyes flutter closed, and after an hour of tossing and turning, I catch myself being on the edge of sleep. The state of being relaxed, in my most vulnerable state as every thought leaves my mind, brings me a sense of bliss.
It’s not until later on that I wake up, feeling… odd.
