Tilly pulled another batch of cookies out of the oven. The scent of chocolate and vanilla filled the kitchen. In the beginning, she’d been hesitant about making herself at home in Rogan’s kitchen, but after a few days of boredom she’d gotten over that.
She knew that Dylan was helping Rogan with something. Something that he couldn’t tell her about. She couldn’t help but worry that it was something dangerous, even though Dylan kept telling her not to worry.
She snorted. Like just telling her not to worry was enough to make her stop. Rogan’s world was dangerous in ways she didn’t even understand. That was why he went everywhere with bodyguards. There were always men watching the house, even when she was the only one here.
Thank God they were leaving this weekend. Hopefully, they could put this whole mess behind them. She only had two more days of feeling claustrophobic to get through.
And two more nights of being lonely.
Dylan came to bed late and left early in the morning. She knew she shouldn’t complain. He was helping Rogan, and they owed him a lot. To help ease her boredom and frustration she’d started baking. Before discovering BDSM, baking had been her stress-reliever of choice.
“Chocolate chip?” Colm asked, peering into the kitchen with a hopeful look on his face.
She nodded, and he walked forward, a big grin lighting his ferocious face. Most of the time, he stayed home with her while Cillian and Dylan went with Rogan.
That suited her. Out of the two guards, Colm was the friendlier one. He’d sit and chat with her, unlike Cillian, who barely said a word.
Colm sat down at the breakfast bar and reached for a cookie, quickly munching it up in two bites.
“Do you want some tea?” she asked.
He nodded. His phone beeped.
“Brandt’s on his way in,” he said.
Brandt was looking into Miller’s disappearance. So far, he hadn’t found much. It was frustrating, but she couldn’t do much about it. If she complained, she’d seem ungrateful, and she wasn’t. She just wished she could do something to help find Miller.
“Morning, Tilly. How are you today?” Brandt asked in a friendly voice as he entered the kitchen.
“I’m good, thanks.”
Colm stood. Grabbing a few more cookies, he left the room.
“Would you like a cookie?” she asked Brandt.
“No thanks,” he replied. “Got to watch my waistline.”
She paused as she went to take another bite of cookie, reminded of her own waistline. She put the cookie back on the plate and reached for her cup of coffee, taking a sip.
“I just dropped in to see if you needed anything.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” Bored, lonely, worried, but he couldn’t do anything about that. “Have you found out anything about Miller?”
Brandt’s gaze turned sympathetic. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It looks like she’s left the city. I can’t find any hint of her anywhere.”
“Oh, well, thanks for looking.” Feeling completely deflated, Tilly took a seat opposite him. “I just wish she’d contact me. Let me know she’s okay.” She’d tried calling the number that Miller had phoned her from three more times without luck.
Brandt shrugged and stood. “Druggies often only care about their next fix.”
She bit down on her lip to stop herself from snapping at him. They didn’t know for sure that Miller was into drugs.
“If you need me, get Colm to contact me.”
She wanted to ask him if he knew what Dylan and Rogan were doing, but she figured he probably wouldn’t tell her. Once he’d left, she puttered around the kitchen, thinking.
Finally, unable to just sit around idly, she went to find Colm. He was sitting in the living room. He looked up as she entered.
“Do you want to watch the telly?” he asked.