Cherry Creek (8 page)

Am I being paranoid?

I scan the room one more time, but no one seems to be paying any attention to me. I turn back to my sandwich and try not to frown. Am I starting to imagine things because of Brad's attack? I thought I was handling it okay. I mean, I've been able to move on from it now that I’m away from the scene of the attack. It's not like what happened is holding me back from doing my daily routines. I've had a couple of bad dreams, but other than that, I'm not having any freak outs or panic attacks.

Maybe I need to call the police department back home and get an update on Brad.  There's the possibility I might secretly be scared that he'll wake up and somehow dodge the attempted murder charges. Perhaps that’s why I feel a bit edgy when I’m in a crowded place. If Brad was released, he could fade into a crowd and watch me from afar without me ever knowing it. Just the thought has me shuddering slightly.

As I eat my lunch, I decide that's exactly what I'm going to do when I get back to the mansion. I'll check up on Brad, and then look up the apartment building's main directory and see about contacting my mom through the front desk.

I need to talk to her, because I feel like I'm living some sort of dream. I need to feel connected to my old life, so I can remind myself not to get caught up in the Deveroux's lifestyle.

When I'm finished eating, I walk back to the store, and I'm relieved that I no longer feel like I'm being watched. Veronica lets me loose on the customers, and I find myself enjoying the customer interaction. The lingerie store is evidently a popular place to shop, because business stays pretty steady throughout the afternoon.

By the time I enter the mansion around five-thirty, I am absolutely starving. When I enter the kitchen, I find a note on the island counter from Adelaide. She has a prior commitment tonight and had to leave early. My meal is in the refrigerator. I walk over to the huge refrigerator and open it. I have never seen so much food in my life. Maybe at the grocery store but not in someone's home. I spy a plate wrapped in saran wrap, and a bowl sits next to it also securely covered. I'm assuming that's my meal. I pull it out and carefully shut the fridge door.

My mouth waters when I spy the stuffed pork chop with a baked potato and a side helping of vegetables. A fresh salad is in the bowl. I quickly warm up what's on the plate in a microwave before deciding to eat upstairs in the privacy of my room. I'm just entering the hallway outside the kitchen when I hear feminine laughter coming from an open doorway down the hall.

Yes, I am the curious type. I can't resist walking quietly down the hall towards the doorway. When I realize the laughter has come from Khristos's office, I hesitate, but only briefly. I peer around the corner, and my eyes widen with embarrassment.

Khristos is sitting on his chair behind his desk, and a gorgeous redhead is straddling his lap. Her back is to me, but I can see that her hands are framing the sides of his face, her red nails gleaming brightly in the office light. They are kissing deeply while Khristos's hands roam over her back. I can taste the sexual tension in the air.
Whoops.
Not exactly what I'd wanted to see.

I quickly step back and hurry down the hall to go up to my room. My nose wrinkles as I shut the door and walk over to the bed.
Great. Now I'm going
to have
that
image burned into my mind for a while.

I set my plate on the bed, then quickly change into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a tee. A second later, I'm settling comfortably on the bed with my meal, the computer, and the cell phone. While I finish eating, I track down the number for the apartment building my mom lives in. Then, just on a whim, I research Khristos's name to see what information I can gleam off the Internet. I get a whole lot of nothing. It's like he doesn't even exist, and with as rich as the man is, there should be
something
out there. I guess if I'm going to get any information on my 'supposed' uncle, I'm going to have to get it myself through those that know him.

After I push aside my plate once my belly is full, I call the police department for an update on Brad. He's still in a coma. Is it possible to feel bad and relieved at the same time? Because that's how I feel. I want Brad to have his life back but not at the cost of my own. I dwell for a bit over how my relationship with Brad had come to such a horrific ending. I'm still utterly confused as to how things had deteriorated so fast. I know the hospital had done an MRI when he'd been brought in due to his injury, and there hadn't been any abnormalities in his scan. No tumors, not a single thing that would explain his change in behavior. God, I'd give anything for a concrete answer.

When I turn my attention to contacting my mom, I find out that she's moved out of the apartment. She moved out the very day I'd left for Cherry Creek, and she hadn't even bothered to try to get her deposit back.

I'm stunned.

My mom moved, and she hadn't bothered to leave a forwarding address.

Has she abandoned me?

***

My mood is far from pleasant Monday morning. I need answers about my mom. I am desperate for them. After a restless night of trying to sleep, I decide it's time to approach Khristos. If anyone will know where she is, it'll be him. I don't even bother with breakfast. I go straight to where Khristos seems to reside the most. His office. His door is shut, and I tentatively knock.

“Come in,” I hear him say from within the room.

I step inside and see that he's behind his desk, phone to his ear. When he sees that it's me, his brows move upward slightly before he flicks a hand and motions for me to take a seat in one of the plush chairs across from his desk. I feel like a kid that's been sent to the principal’s office. I cautiously walk over and take a seat. I try to listen in on his side of the conversation, but he's speaking a language I don't recognize. Since I can't eavesdrop, I find myself looking around with open curiosity. I haven't been in here before. His office is quite spacious with a high ceiling. The entire wall behind him is windows, and sunlight filters in, brightening the room with the kind of warmth that only the morning sun can provide. The walls are cream, and one wall is full of shelves with old looking books neatly organized next to one another. A flat screen TV takes up the wall above the simple fireplace. On the opposite side of the room is a light, tan couch, and above it is a large painting of what looks like a meadow of some sort with trees surrounding it.

“Do you like it?”

I realize Khristos is done with his phone call and has caught me staring at the painting. “It's beautiful,” I reply as I turn my attention back to him.

“It was a favorite place of mine when I was a child,” he says lightly.

“Oh, may I ask where it is? It looks very serene.”

“Perhaps another time I'll share some of my past with you. But not today.” His leans back in the chair, looking thoroughly relaxed as he studies me with those dark eyes of his. “You looked like you had something on your mind when you walked through the door.”

Right. Time to get down to business. “Do you have my mom's new phone number?”

He looks momentarily puzzled. “New number?”

“She moved out of the apartment the same day I left. I can't reach her through the old number,” I explain.

He's silent for a long moment, and I watch as he seems to choose his words carefully. “I'm sorry, Livvy. She never told me she was moving.”

Why do I get the feeling he's lying? There's no point in calling him on it, though. It's like pulling teeth to get any kind of information out of anyone around here. Fine. He can have his way and keep his little secrets. But I won't live with someone I don't trust.

I nod stiffly in acknowledgment to his response. “Okay. Look, I turn eighteen in September, and when I do, I plan on getting my own place.” There. He can chew on that for a bit, because I'm sick of not knowing the real reason why I’m here.

Khristos does not look pleased by this news, and his eyes harden ever so slightly. “I don't think that would be very wise. Brad Leske still might wake up, and we can't be sure he'll go to trial. Not to mention you have an entire year left of school. You won't be able to afford an apartment, not with only a part-time job as your only source of income.” He studies me intently. “Have I done something to make you feel uncomfortable here?”

“No, of course not,” I lie.

“Take full advantage of it then. You have a car at your disposal, money, and a home to live in. Doesn't make sense to turn your back on all of it.” He waits for my response.

I've never been the suspicious type, but things just are not adding up. And now that my mom has disappeared, I have a feeling that Khristos Deveroux is up to no good. But pissing him off certainly would not be wise. Until I turn eighteen, I need to play nice.

I paste a smile on my face. “Okay, you have a point. But if you hear from my mom, will you let me know?”

“Of course.”

***

For the next few days, I fall into a routine. I work and pretty much keep to myself up in my room. Roman's stopped inviting me out with him and his friends, and I've been keeping my distance from Khristos. The more the days go by, the more suspicious I get as to why I am here. He hasn't asked anything of me, and I am thankful for that. But sooner or later, I'll find out why he wants me here, and I have a feeling I'm not going to like it.

It also doesn't help that I am starting to develop regular headaches. They're more of a minor nuisance, and I've been taking aspirin here and there to rid myself of them. I'm assuming they're from stress or anxiety. I've been dealing with both lately, so I'm not surprised my body is starting to feel the effects from them.

The only bright side of being here in Cherry Creek is Adelaide. She's the only one I feel comfortable around, and there's a bit of motherliness in her voice these days when she speaks to me. I feel like she's taken me under her wing. If I need something, I find myself going to Adelaide. A couple of times I've wanted to mention to her that I sometimes feel like I'm being watched. I can't shake the feeling that someone's following me, but Brad is still in a coma, so I have no idea who else it could be. Every time I think of approaching the topic with Adelaide, I change my mind. Why would anyone be following me? Saying it out loud would just sound foolish.

Maybe Brad's attack is affecting me after all.

Chapter Five

I have to admit that I've become addicted to my evening baths. My room has become my sanctuary, and a long soak in the tub can do wonders for my mood when I need to relax. I've been here for a little over a week now, and I still haven't heard from my mom. Either she's contacted Khristos and he's neglecting to pass on the information, or she's truly abandoned me. I'm not quite sure which scenario is more unsettling. I’d contemplated contacting the police back in Missouri, but with everything that went down with Brad, I’d rather not involve them. At least not yet.

When I'm finished with my bath, I secure a fluffy towel around my damp body and leave the bathroom. I pause in the middle of my room when I hear music. Loud music, the kind that has the bass throbbing through the thick walls. Is it coming from Roman's room? Is his room even on this side of the mansion? I've never wondered or cared where his room is located. All I've cared about is getting out of the mansion when I can and holing up in my room when I'm here.

Laughter and splashing come from outside my balcony doors. I turn my head, frowning in the direction of my balcony. Is that where the music is coming from? I walk across the room and pull back one of the curtains to peer outside. Sure enough, there's probably fifty people down on the patio and in the pool. No, not people. Teenagers. And they all are clad in swimming trunks or skimpy bikinis. Looks like Roman's throwing a party. I wonder what Khristos thinks of it. Is he even home?

So much for going to bed early. I reach up and rub my temple that is already beginning to ache. I wonder if there's a set of ear plugs in the mansion somewhere. I wouldn't know the first place to look though, so it's either leave the mansion to buy some, or just deal with it. The curtain drops back into place as I walk away from the balcony doors to put something on. I find a pair of shorts and a tank.

I'm just slipping the tank on when a knock on my door startles me. I glance at it warily and wonder if a party-goer has gotten lost. The door doesn't have a lock, but I'm thinking it might be a good idea to get one.

“I know you're in there, Vee!” Roman calls through the door.

For a brief moment, I'm relieved it's him and not some drunk. That relief is short lived when I realize he's probably wanting to drag me down to the pool. A pool party—especially one thrown by Roman—is not high up on my list of things to do. Scratch that. It's not on the list at all.

“Open up, or I'm coming in,” Roman threatens.

He's not going to go away on his own, so I make sure my shorts and tank are decent before I reluctantly walk over and swing the door open. I try hard to keep my eyes focused on his face instead of trailing over his body, because he's only wearing a pair of black swimming trunks.

Roman grins widely when he sees me. “Hey, Vee. It's been a while.” He saunters into my room, uninvited.

With a roll of my eyes, I shut the door. “I'm not going down there,” I tell him as I turn and stubbornly fold my arms over my chest. He stands in the middle of my room, looking completely out of place among all the feminine décor, because he is so utterly masculine. I can’t help but briefly wonder what his own bedroom looks like. He seems to favor dark colors, so I’m thinking his room is likely black or gray.

Roman looks at me as if he's dealing with a petulant child. “Quit moping and hiding out. Put on a bikini, and make some friends before school starts in September.”

“Roman, I am not in the mood.”

He levels me with a look, and it's not lost on me that there's a hint of warning in the aquamarine depths of his eyes. “I'm starting to get offended with how often you avoid me.”