Page 33 of Too Safe

“I swapped out the SIM card but transferred over your contacts and apps,” he continues, but I’m barely listening now. “There’s a location tracker on it, but that shouldn’t be an issue since you’ll be here or with one of us all the time.”

“Are you kidding me?” I fume, rising to my feet and gripping the phone in my hand.

“No,” Kylian replies coolly. He stands and brushes off his jeans, then glances over to where I’m shooting figurative daggers at him. “Oh. That was a rhetorical question, wasn’t it?”

This fucker. And here I thought maybe he was less of a threat than the others.

“Do you think you’re being funny right now?” I snap.

Kylian tilts his head slightly, his face screwed up in puzzlement. “I assure you I don’t.”

“Do you think this is a game?” I push, my anger getting the best of me as I unleash it on him. I have no doubt Decker was the one who came up with the terms of my captivity, but fuck Kylian for being complicit. Fuck all of them for thinking they can trample all over my life—my hopes, my dreams, my fresh start—because of a simple misunderstanding.

He scratches at the back of his neck, revealing a hint of ink on the underside of his bicep. I drag my attention back to his face and scold myself for being even momentarily distracted. Living with these guys and keeping my hatred firmly in place will be a major test of willpower.

“Look… Locke and I worked really hard to get you that,” he juts his chin toward the phone in my hand, “and to talk Decker down from more of his, shall we say, creative ideas to keep tabs on you.”

I choke down the sense of dread bubbling up from my gut. I’ve gone toe to toe with Decker Crusade twice in the last two weeks. If only I weren’t so damn affected by him. It’s clear that he’s intense, to put it lightly, and that he’s willing to go to extreme measures to get what he wants.

“Come on,” Kylian encourages, starting back toward the gargantuan structure they all call home. “The phone thing doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Easy for him to say…

“You’ll have your own room and access to the whole house. I can link you up to my Amazon account for anything you need, and if you add your food requests to the tablet in the kitchen, our housekeeper will pick it up on her weekly trip to the grocery store.”

I’m frozen on the end of the dock, my feet unwilling to follow. As if my refusal to walk back into the mansion makes any difference to my current situation.

Kylian stops several feet away from me and turns back, holding out a hand.

I close my eyes and say a silent prayer, although I don’t know who I’m praying to or what to even ask for.

Just not this.

When I open my eyes, nothing has changed about my surroundings or my situation. But I’m exhausted and mentally out of fight. I need to regroup, get my head on straight, and figure out my next move.

“The season is just starting, Jo. It’s up to you whether the next fourteen plus weeks are miserable or enjoyable.”

“Fourteenplusweeks?” I gape.

“Twelve regular season games and two bye weeks, then playoffs and a bowl game. Lake Chapel University is expected to take it all the way this year.”

Chapter 14

Josephine

IshuffledbehindKylianas he gave me a quick tour of the house. The kitchen, media room, living room, and gym are all on the main floor, as is the master suite, which is Decker’s room, apparently. My room is on the second floor, in the same hallway as Locke and Kendrick and a few other guest rooms. In my stupor, I didn’t think to ask Kylian where he slept.

My room is fine—nice, even. One wall faces the lake, and the view is undeniably gorgeous. The décor is all powdery blues, deep purples, and shimmery golds. There’s a feminine touch to the design that I would admit to liking if I wasn’t so disgruntled about my new living arrangements. Or concerned about who typically uses this room.

Kylian mentioned the paparazzi are used to seeing women at the house. So. Yeah. It’s fair to assume that this is where said women might stay.

Do any of the guys have girlfriends? Who should I be prepared to run into or even cohabitate with?

My head is swimming with questions. Questions, the fog of exhaustion, and the groggy pull of sleep after my unexpected all-nighter.

Yawning, I trudge into the en suite bathroom, then blink at the pristine space. The room is huge—bigger than my bedroom back at my uncle’s, with an enormous vanity, a high-tech walk-in shower, and a gorgeous soaking tub.

The comparison to my place with Sam jolts me back to reality. I haven’t tried to text or call him yet, because honestly, I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell him. I disappeared, but I can’t tell him where to or why or when I’ll be back. He probably couldn’t help me even if Ididfeel comfortable divulging details. He’s already done so much for me, and I don’t need to mix him up in what is turning out to be another act in the shit show that is my life.

---