Page 95 of Demons and Debts
Now that the game is over, I did tell her that things would be working as normal, and I find myself anticipating traveling with her on this trip. The others will take their bikes, leaving just her and me by ourselves in the limo.
I pour myself a double and knock it back. It's going to be one interesting, and, if I have my way, very enjoyable,ride.
* * *
Jane
I wake up slowly,stretching my body and moaning because it feels so amazing. My eyes open and I see that I'm in my room. It’s dark outside and the clock says it's almost midnight. I’ve kicked the covers off and I notice I’m not wearing any clothes.
I sit up.
Right. Because Sie ripped them all off me.
My hand covers my mouth as I remember what happened in the gym. I swallow hard as the muscles of my core clench at the thought of what Sie did …what I wanted him to do.
I take the sheet from the bed and wrap it around myself when I can’t see my backpack with my clothes in it anywhere. I’m sure it was by the table. I snort. Korban probably took it to rummage through it again since I’m such a fuckingdangerto the Iron I’s.
I fan myself with my hand. The room is stifling. My skin feels like it’s burning up but it’s not hot to the touch. Going to the window, I try to open it, but it won't budge. After a few moments of investigation in the low light, I see that two nails have been driven in through the top of the frame. I frown. That makes no sense. It’s too high for me to escape this way. I peer down into the darkness. Maybe they thought I’d jump.
I sit back down on the bed but I’m still too hot. I need some fresh air. I feel closed in now and the need to be outside takes over.
Leaving the room, I pad down the main stairs as quietly as I can, but when I get to the front door, I need a key even to unlock it from the inside, which I don't have.
Heaving a sigh, I’m rolling my eyes as I go to the kitchen one. I mean, seriously, we’re in the middle of an estate with magickal boundaries. Do they really need to lock this place up like a fortress? No one’s getting anywhere near the house.
I have the same problem in the kitchen. Fuck!
I get myself a glass of water, hoping it’ll do the trick, but it doesn’t and then I remember the pool. I don't have a suit, my brain helpfully supplies, but at this point does it matter? There are probably cameras in every room and I’m pretty sure all of the guys have seen me with nothing on. And they should be asleep by now anyway, right?
I make my way to the other side of the house, the scent of chlorine hitting my nose as I open the door that leads to the pool. It’s warm in here, warmer than the other rooms, and it feels even more uncomfortable. I want to leave, but I know the water will feel good so I lose the sheet, tossing it on one of the loungers close by.
There’s just enough light to see by as I descend to the first step, breathing a sigh of relief as the water cools my toes. I take two more steps down quickly and sigh heavily.
I don't do laps. It's not really my thing. Instead, I just sit on the lowest step I can, submerged up to my neck, playing with the water. I feel it swirling between my fingers, the ebb and flow putting me into a very relaxed state. I don’t think I’ve been in a pool since my school days. Probably when Angie used to take me. I push away the bittersweet memories of my almost-adoptive mom. I wonder what she’d think of me now.
Outside, I hear the muffled sound of the garage opening and a bike goes by the window that looks out on the driveway a minute later. It sails down the winding private road. It’s too dark to see who's on it, but I stay where I am until it’s long gone.
I stand up, making my way out to where the towels are stacked, taking one and drying myself vigorously. A creak sounds from out in the hall, and I grab my sheet, crossing the room and peering out the cracked door. There’s no one there though so I slip out into the corridor and tip-toe back to the foyer.
I’m about to go back up to my room when I notice that the study door is ajar and the desk light is on. There’s no one in there and usually when that’s the case, the door is locked. I know because I’ve seen the guys try the handle a couple of times when they’re looking for their president and he’s been elsewhere. It’s his space and he doesn’t like anyone in there when he’s not.
I step into the room, taking a look around. He’s definitely not here and I shouldn’t be either. I move around the desk to turn off the desk lamp simply because it’s a waste of electricity when I notice some documents on the desk.
I try not to look. Really! I actually don’t give a shit what they’re into. But I see my name poking out of a folder underneath the pile and I can’t help it.
I move the sheets of paper aside that have nothing to do with me until I see it. My picture clipped to a folder.
Heart beating faster, I open it, scanning the sheets with all my personal information. My Social, a list of most of the places I’ve lived and when. My whole life on four pages.
Then I get to the last one and I can’t breathe. It’s the medical report the doctors gave Angie, detailing the ‘Asperger’s Syndrome’ that’s overshadowed my entire life. It says everything. My sensory issues, the meltdowns, the shutdowns. Everything.
They know about me.
I stifle a sob. I don’t know why I’m so upset, and I know it’ll take me awhile to unpick the mess in my head, but for now I let myself feel it. I start questioning all my interactions with the Iron I’s. When did they know? Was this why Theo was actually kind to me the other night at the club? Was this why they wanted me to sign their contract? Did they want me here because I’m different? A novelty? A freak?
Keeping my sobs as quiet as I can, I take the folder and put it in the drawer along with the rest of the papers, almost trapping my fingers in it as I close it because I can’t see from my tears. I turn off the light and leave the room, but as I turn the corner into the kitchen, I bump into Paris.
Shit.
