Page 23 of The Darkest Chase
Not that it was a big secret when we’ve only got one wealthy family around these parts.
My interest sharpens. I look back to Talia.
“You met with the Arrendells?”
“Arrendell. Singular,” she says. “It was just Xavier. He said his parents are out of town, grieving in Italy or something.”
Interesting.
Suddenly, every prickling awareness of her attractiveness, her vulnerability, becomes secondary to a different urgency inside me. It’s almost catching a scent that tells me my prey is near, if I’ll only follow the lead.
Could this be an opportunity?
And could it end with closing in for the kill? Taking out all the hatred I’ve nursed for years on Xavier Arrendell’s all-too-tender pampered flesh.
I’ve thought long and hard about killing that fuck.
In my mind, I already know the smell of his blood, the sound of his pain.
Even though I know it’s not right—I know I shouldn’t want it, I know I have to uphold the law—I can’t stop.
I can’t halt the dreams where I watch the light fade from his eyes like a candle sputtering out.
The same way it did from my brother’s.
I keep my composure, though. No point in scaring her now.
“What did he ask you to do?”
“Um, only redecorate the entire huge-ass manor.” She blanches and takes another quick sip of her tea. “Really crazy. We’re talking new handcrafted furniture in every room and he wants a whole new interior design on top of it. I don’t even do much interior design. That’s not really our thing, but… I guess I’ll learn. Whatever I can with a good contractor.”
“So you’re taking the job?” It comes out too fast.
Something strange passes over her face.
“Well, yeah. I think. We do need the work. I have to throw together a quote, but it’s going to be amazing money. It could keep us sitting nice for years.”
Then why does her smile look so pained at the windfall?
There’s something weird there.
Something odd.
Something hurting her, tied to this job.
“Miss Grey, do you not want to work for Xavier Arrendell?”
No smile now. Her lips crease bitterly, but they’re trembling and she won’t look at me.
“It’s not my business, I know,” I tell her. “If I’m getting too nosy, go ahead and tell me to—”
“I’ll answer that if you can remember my name.” She cuts me off.
“Talia,” I say softly, and this time she almost flinches.
Lowering her eyes, she compresses her lips, rubbing the tip of the straw along the crease of her mouth.
“I don’t know. Something about him makes me uncomfortable. But maybe it’s just all the rumors swirling around his family and bad vibes and I’m just overreacting. Being around him makes me feel…” She pauses. “…unsafe, I guess. But we do need the money. Desperately.”