Page 52 of No Control
I push it away and continue moving around the room. I pause at the nightstand, tempted to open the drawer, but I don’t. The computer on the desk catches my attention first. I creep across the room and open it.
A stock image of a cityscape fills the screen and I squint at the bright light, setting my phone to the side. My index presses the enter key, and the option for a password pops up. I purse my lips as I rack my brain.
Nothing comes to mind.
I don’t even know his birthday. I don’t know anything about him, actually. I could count the facts on one hand, yet I’m already feeling myself fall for him. I never can be intimate with someone without developing some sort of stupid attachment. Talk about being careless.
I snap the laptop shut, and pull at the desk drawers, but the sound of a door closing catches my attention. I freeze, listening closely, and then the sound of the sink running fills my ears. I head for the door, cracking it open just enough for me to peer down the hallway. A light illuminates the front room, and I slip out, closing it behind me.
Quietly, I head for my room, but then catch sight of Jude, making a bowl of cereal, and I see my opportunity. I head for the kitchen, and he looks up as I enter.
“It’s late,” he says flatly.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He picks up the white glass bowl full of Cheerios. “I see. There’re meals prepped for you in the fridge.”
I nod. “I know, I saw them earlier.”
“He takes your presence here seriously. He has Lola cook enough for you to be well fed all week—until she comes back to clean and cook.”
Lola?
“Can I ask you something?”
He sets the bowl down, the spoon clattering against the ceramic. “I can’t guarantee I can answer, but sure.”
“Who is Cher?”
His brows shoot up. “How’d you find out about her?”
My stomach knots up at the mention. “I saw it in a book on his shelf.”
“Why didn’t you just ask Henry?”
I shrug. “I didn’t want to be weird.” And he wasn’t here.
Jude laughs. “Well, I don’t think it’d be very weird to ask him about his sister. She occasionally sends him shit.”
“Does she ever come visit?”
“No, but Henry visits her sometimes.”
I nod, making a note. “When’s his birthday?”
Jude blinks. “Uh…September fourth. He’ll be thirty-three this year. Doesn’t look it, though. I swear youth hangs onto him.”
“Yeah...” I tap my finger against the granite, noticing Jude’s bowl of cereal is sitting in the same spot Henry devoured me.
“If you have a lot questions, you should talk to Henry about them. I don’t know how much he wants you to know— and pissing him off is not something I care to do.”
“Is he dangerous when he gets angry?” It’s a stupid but necessary question, considering he told me earlier he’d never hurt me. In that way, at least.
Jude takes a bite of cereal, chewing it slowly before swallowing. “He’s...” His voice trails off in an unnerving way. “If he says he’ll never hurt you, then he won’t.”
I bite down on my lip, confused. “So he’s dangerous?”
Jude lets out a sharp breath. “Isn’t everyone? We all are capable of horrible things, Lydia. There are just people who learn to control those urges, those who can’t control them, and those who choose to let those urges loose sometimes.”
