Page 111 of Hide From Me

The guy took a second look at me before leaving the room. I almost half expected for Grandpa to shoot him or something. That didn’t happen. He was just another rich asshole.

Habit had me wanting to wrap my hands into fists, and I was thrilled when my finger at least twitched.

“Hello, Rylee, is it?”

What did he expect me to do? I couldn’t exactly nod.

“Well, nice to meet you. I see your mother’s beauty in you.”

His fingers slithered around my chin as he moved my head.

“Your mother was always my favorite. She was stubborn. I would have given her the world if she had just complied. I suppose killing her bitch of a mother didn’t give her a lot of confidence in me.”

Well, at least my instincts weren’t wrong on the creeps. He was a monster. Who killed their own wife?

“Shame about your aunt. She was rather useless to me once the money ran out from her mother. Still, she seemed to bemaking her way just fine. Using the only skill most women have.”

Well, hell. It took all my energy, but I was able to get my tongue to at least move enough that I pushed my lips apart and stuck it out.

“Looks like the drugs are wearing off, then. I was sad to have to resort to such measures, but really, I’ve hired several PIs, and most wouldn’t go near your apartment because of who owned it. I swear, I would have assumed you wouldn’t return to those delinquents. Like mother like daughter, I suppose.”

He was talking, so maybe I just let this all happen. Cas was resourceful, I’d bet it was all just a matter of time. Lord, I hoped it was a matter of time.

Someone moved behind dear old grandpa.

“Ah, yes. Don’t mind him, Rylee. I just need a simple sample to prove your relationship to my daughter.”

Odd fucker.

“Yoo-uu,” was all I managed to get out. Damn. I was trying to ask why in the hell he would abduct a woman he didn’t even know was for certain his own blood. That was a bit illogical here. Why would you kidnap a woman at all? Then again, something told me he wasn’t exactly worried about having to release me.

He had killed Grandma. Or at least one of them. I remembered they said my aunt was only a half sister. Interesting how I could have had a big family but crazy pants here might have ruined that.

I tried to turn my nose up as the guy swabbed my mouth. I would have jumped for joy when I was able to push the little cotton swab away with my tongue. Because it was little things, and, obviously, I wasn’t able to jump at all. Yet.

“Thanks,” the guy said and put the swap in a tube.

“I’ll have a result quickly. What’s wrong with her, exactly?”

I couldn’t wait to hear his response.

“She’s fine. I didn’t pay you to ask questions. Let me know what the results are.”

Of course. Men like him didn’t answer to anyone, did they?

My grandfather’s phone rang.

“Pardon me while I answer this. Don’t try to escape. These doors all lead to nowhere. There is no escape from here.”

There was no proper way to flip him off or roll my eyes. All I could do was watch him walk away and listen to the click of the door.

Now it was just me and my thoughts. I didn’t like that. I could have been medicated my whole life to keep the nightmares away, but Cas was my medication. It was messed up that he was who I thought about when things got hard. I knew how pathetic that all seemed.

But his memories gave me something to try for. I wanted to be something that would catch his attention and not in a bad way. My dead mother had never inspired me, she was too crazy. My father? I think we could all see how he was never going to motivate me to do anything, and my aunt? I knew I didn’t want to be her. I should have wanted to be better just for myself, and I did. But his memories were what pushed me when the self-doubt crept in. Maybe I wanted to be better, but when things got hard, I wasn’t enough for myself. At least I was present and not medicated into a stupor, I guess.

But here I was, in an ostentatious living room. I had a feeling this is what old money might look like. I can’t say I’d been all that close to any money before, but I’d been able to shoot a few rather high-profile deaths during my internship. Those places were opulent and grand and over-the-top flashy. Nothing like this.

Why had my mother run away from this?