Page 41 of The Prey
It doesn’t matter.
Both men spin in their chairs to face me, bracing their backs against the computer console table. “Sir, you...we didn't…”
“Well, obviously, you fucking didn't know I was here, or you wouldn't have been so damn stupid to talk out of your asses.”
The guard on the left gulps, his worried gaze ping-ponging between my face and the blade. I step closer and lean in a little bit. I want to make certain that both of these fuckers know that Elyse is off-limits to them and everyone else in this house.
“Keep Elyse's name out of your mouths, or I'll ensure you don't speak again. And if you so much as glance at my sister, no one will ever find your bodies. Are we clear?”
Both men nod frantically.
It's starting to feel like I can’t trust anyone in this house.
I release a sigh of frustration and fight against the desire to sink my knife into their guts. I need to think rationally and not with murder hazing my mind. I take a step back and weigh my options. Attacking them won’t fix the issue, nor will it give me the information I need when it comes to figuring out what the fuck is going on with Elyse.
“I’ll deal with Elyse. Your jobs are to find actual threats and make sure no one that isn’t supposed to be here gets in or out. Elyse isn’t a fucking threat, so forget about her. Put your efforts into other shit.”
I’m past the point of annoyance now, and I can’t tell if it’s because of these fuckers and what they said about Elyse or if it’s because she’s been sleeping on the floor in the guest room closet. If I’m being honest, neither of those things should evoke such a strong emotion out of me, but when it comes to her, I don’t know what’s up or down.
Elyse has a chokehold on my emotions and my heart in her tiny little fist.
“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t happen again because if it does, you’ll be helping each other put your intestines back in your bodies.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts, and I fish it out. I check the message, noting it’s from Bel.
BEL: Are you coming to dinner, or am I just eating alone?
I squeeze my eyes shut for all of a second and shake my head at myself. Fucking shit. I forgot we were supposed to meet for an early dinner. How the fuck did I forget? I spin the blade around in my hand to point the sharp edge down my forearm and type out a quick response.
ME: Be there in ten.
When I turn my attention back to the guards, I stare them down. I really want to fuck with them a little, scare ’em, teach them a lesson, but right now, I need to get to my dinner date with Bel. I hate that I forgot and that she's been waiting. That's not like me at all.
“Get your asses back to work. I’ll be checking in with both of you later,” I announce, checking my watch before I step out of the room.
All I can do is shake my head in disappointment, mainly toward myself. My fixation with her has backfired on me. While I accomplished avoiding her for the most part, I’ve failed in other areas. I’ve missed big things going on right under my own nose and in my own fucking house. Now I’m late for a dinner that I set up. I barely recognize myself right now.
I jog down the hall and toward the exit leading to the garage.
It only takes a minute to hop in the car and speed down the drive to the gate. Once on the road, I slam my foot on the gas. There's little-to-no traffic since everyone is finishing classes. I make it to the restaurant in minutes and leave the car with a valet. We come here often, even Ely, since they have a great to-go coffee counter next to the bar. It’s also close to campus, so it’s not a surprise to see a good number of students sipping coffee and sharing a meal.
The hostess opens her mouth to greet me, but I shake my head. “The person I’m with already has a table.” I find Bel in my line of sight as I peer over the woman's shoulder.
Bel looks up from the table and right at me, her face lighting up instantly. When I reach the table, she shoves herself up and out of her chair and wraps her arms around me, engulfing me in a tight hug. I hug her back, allowing myself to enjoy her touch. Ever since I found out Bel was my sister, small parts of my heart that I was certain would never beat again did just that. Supporting her and caring for her throughout our mother’s death brought us closer.
It was because of Bel that I felt I had a purpose. She needed me, and I needed her so fucking much. She just didn’t know it.
When she pulls away, I apologize, “Sorry I'm late. I've been distracted.” My watch tells me she's been waiting fifteen more minutes since she texted me.
“It’s okay. No big deal. It just surprised me since you’re hardly ever late.” She waves me off and twirls the glass in her hand, sending the coffee and cream mixture swirling with the ice and straw. “I ordered you a whiskey, but I think maybe you should drink some water instead. How much have you had to drink today? You smell like a distillery.”
I ignore the way she wrinkles her nose at me, fighting against the prevailing anger building in my gut at her judgment. “You're not my babysitter, Bel. I don't need you to dictate when and what I can drink or eat.”
I don't need to look at the menu, so I just wait for the server to return. She glances between us, at me in my Armani suit and Bel in ripped-up jeans and a hoodie with the Oakmount logo printed on the front. I can already see the questions in her mind, but she doesn’t ask anything, thankfully. She takes our orders quickly before heading back to the kitchen.
The restaurant is pretty busy, and there's a short line at the coffee stand a few feet away. “How many cups of coffee have you had?”