Rhys's brows shoot up. "What makes you say that?"
"Last week, when Liberman brought her home. She…she was not herself." I probably shouldn't mention that I fucked her senseless between his washer and dryer that day.
"Do you think Collin has anything to do with it?" Unease rings in Lilly's question.
"I'm not sure. But he is on the top of my list."
"Maybe I should look more into him," Lilly considers.
"I'd say that is a perfectly reasonable idea." I nod with a corner of my mouth quirking.
In the meantime, I need to figure out what I want to do about my newfoundcaringfor Denielle Keller.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
DENIELLE
Arriving home from the hospital,I took a long and very hot shower, scrubbing my skin until every inch looked (and felt) like I had used steel wool to apply the body wash. While I was physically clean, my soul was stained—tainted with violation and fear. I was falling, spiraling into losing control over my mind. And the one person who could make it stop…he had left me.
Why did he have to be the one to find me? Why couldn't Lilly have called Ethan? Or J? I would've taken the gardener over Marcus "The Spineless Shadow"Baxter. Irrational rage began to slither like venom through my veins, numbing every cell poisoned by whoever did this. I was going to use the red haze to cover the gray of anxiety for as long as I could. This was better than the helplessness blanketing me since I woke up yesterday.
I didn't venture out of my room again, and the only time Oli left my side was to grab us food. We lounged in my bed, watching one of our favorite childhood TV shows until my lids started drooping. While it didn't numb the havoc racking my body, it distracted me enough to not think ofhim.
Halfway through the season, I announced I would go back to work in the morning. To say my brother disagreed with my decision was an understatement. Oli argued until he was blue in the face. He probably would've caused less of a scene if I had gone into a full-blown episode in front of our father in the middle of one of his lectures. Unfortunately for Oli, he had to be back home for a work engagement. Missing it could risk his job, and I would not be the cause of that.
I assured him that I'd be fine. "I basically live in a fortified stronghold."
"Which you would be leaving to go to work." Oli cocked a brow and crossed his arms.
"I'll check in with you every day. I'll make sure someone knows where I am, and Lilly can keep the tracker on in the car." Why was I entertaining him? He couldn't do anything about it. He was getting on a flight in the morning.
Because you would want your brother, or Elena, if it had been her, to be safe if the roles were reversed.
I remained calm through the entirediscussion—one of my best performances in weeks. Oli was unaware of the panic-inducing thoughts flashing one after another through my mind, but I needed to do this. I couldn't let another circumstance handicap me. Fear was an emotion. Nothing more, nothing less. If you didn't let it in, it couldn't immobilize you, prevent you from living.
This only lasted, though, until we called it a night. As soon as the room was shrouded in darkness, my carefully constructed facade crumbled. I had zero clue who was behind the…attack? Was it an attack? The person who drugged me. The mere thought of someone touching me without my knowledge or consent made bile rise in my throat. Dr. Palmer assured me I showed no signs of assault. It was less than ten minutes between answering Marcus's call and when he arrived at La Déesse. Enough time for someone to…get to me, but I also thoroughly inspected my body in the privacy of the hospital room's adjacent bathroom the minute I was allowed to get up. Nothing. No bruise or blemish. I felt fine—physically. Mentally, the craving of a distraction, of numbing myself, coated my flesh. But I couldn't give in. Oli lay on the sofa across the room. We used to share a bed a lot as kids, but not in a decade and a half. I probably wouldn't have objected if he had wanted to sleep next to me. I needed his proximity as much as he needed the reassurance that I was okay. The more the urge spread, the more my mind kept wandering to the guesthouse, to the man whose arms I wanted wrapped around me to make me forget. My earlier anger gave way to another emotion…longing? He was so close, yet it felt like he was on a different continent. Why did he have to be the one who gave me the strength to face my demons? Why did he stay with me and then leave? And no word since. I should expect it by now. Yet, it still hurt.
Sleep didn't come until the early morning hours. Caffeine would be a necessity to make it through the day.
"Denielle."Denis's eyes widen as he notices me climbing the stairs. He just stepped out of the kitchen with his favorite purple ceramic mug that his niece made for him in pottery class. "What are you doing here?"
I plaster a smile on my face and chirp, "Working. What did I miss?"
He sees right through my act. I wonder what happened to him for tolerating the drama I brought upon his business without demanding an explanation and continuing to give me a job.
"You shouldn't be here. You should be resting." He stops, our toes almost touching.
My shoulders slump as he scrutinizes me. "I need the distraction," I admit, talking to his tea instead of him.
When there is no response, my gaze slowly travels up until I meet his concerned eyes. He doesn't speak at first, and I expect him to send me home. His expression suddenly shifts. "I won't keep you, then. Please, let me know if you need anything."
I dip my chin, relief crashing through me. "Will do." I slip past him and dash to my office before he can change his mind.
Entering the room I don't recall exiting two days ago, a cold shiver runs through me. Charlie texted twice yesterday. I ignored both messages. I didn't delete them, but I also didn't read them. I couldn't see him being behind it, but who else would it be? And how? I've been going over the day repeatedly. Everything is clear until I got back to La Déesse.
Charlie never touched my food or drink during lunch. He bought us each a bottle of water on the way out, but that was brand new, the seal not broken. I drank most of it on the walk. Back at the office, I remember dropping my purse on the desk. There was a little bit of water left in the bottle, and I dumped it into the orchid.
My eyes drift to the flower with no origin. My heart begins to thud against my ribs. Was the flower from the same person? Why didn't I think of it before? I pivot on my heels, racing down the hallway to Denis's office.