Page 57 of The Lies That Shatter
After checking on Mr Ingold, making sure he’s still comfortable in his bed, and that Aleandro is happy to watch him for a little longer, I take my time walking to the main kitchen.
As I saunter through the house, knowing I have full permission on this occasion, I don’t rush, taking in as much of the house as I can. Last time I was in such a hurry, and my nerves were at an all-time high, so I missed a lot of the details.
Despite the house being massive and grand, there aren’t a lot of details to miss. It looks like a perfect show house that you’d see in a catalogue. There’s nothing personal or homely about this place. There’s no sign that a family even lives here.
I expect to see family photos at the very least. They have a daughter, Mia, yet there’s not a single sign that a child has ever lived here. No pictures of her growing up, or mementos of achievements she gained. Hell, there’s not even a sign that Mel and Mortimer are married. Not even a bloody wedding photo. This place is as cold as the people that own it, and it sends a chill up my spine the longer I explore.
Although I have permission to wander, I still don’t want to risk security finding me somewhere I shouldn’t really be, so I make my way to the kitchen. Thankfully, when I pull open the fridge door, I see there’s a bottle of homemade smoothie in there. I grab a glass and pour it out, grateful that the chef had the foresight to make the drink in advance.
Fuck knows what I would’ve done if they hadn’t, as I sure as shit wouldn’t have made one for that evil witch. The temptation to poison her would be too strong. I only just manage to resist adding some laxatives—though that would be hilarious.
With great difficulty, I push all thoughts of murdering my boss to one side as I put the remaining bottle of juice in the fridge. I almost make it to the kitchen door, when it opens, and Mortimer Whitlock walks in.
He looks exactly the same as he did the last time I saw him; perfectly pressed suit, shiny shoes, greying hair not a strand out of place, and a disgusting glint in his eyes. I’m frozen to the spot, and as soon as he catches sight of me, his lips turn up into a sneer.
I feel like a deer caught in headlights, and as he slowly stalks towards me, it’s clear he feels every bit the predator that he is. I try to move, very aware that he’s getting closer with each passingsecond, but I can’t seem to get my legs to move. My brain is whirling a million miles a minute, reminding me how fucking dangerous he is, and those thoughts seem to prevent me from moving.
Wake the fuck up, Mac, or he might kill you, I shout inside my head, hoping like hell I can snap myself out of it.
Realising he really could be a threat, I shuffle to the side, out of his way. It doesn’t have the desired effect though, and somehow I end up with my back pressed against the wall as he crowds me with his body.
He’s not a particularly imposing man. He’s shorter than Finn, and all his brothers, with far less bulk, but that doesn’t stop him from looming over me. There’s an air about him that reminds me that not only is he dangerous, he’s also a little psychotic, with an incredibly lethal ability to manipulate people. I’m definitely trapped in his web, and my heart races as panic sets in.
“Well…if it isn’t the lovely McKenna. What are you doing here, so far away from where you should be?” he asks, his voice making me feel icky as he tries to sound alluring, but passes over into pervy.
“I’m just here to pick up a smoothie for your wife,” I say, holding up the glass in my hand as further evidence.
Thankfully, he has to take a small step back to make room, and I’m able to hold the glass out in front of me like a shield. I try to ignore the way my hand shakes slightly, gripping the glass tighter in the hope he doesn’t see.
Luckily, he’s not taken his eyes off mine. “Why can’t my wife come down here herself?” His eyes narrow, and his suspicion is raised. I feel like he’s watching my every move, assessing to see if I’m lying, or if I’m a threat, maybe? Either way, I know I need to get the hell away from him as quickly as I can.
Without thinking it through, my mouth moves quicker than my brain, and the words just tumble out. “She’s gone back to bed. She had a long night.”
As soon as the words are out, and my brain catches up, I realise I practically just told Mel’s husband about her affair with Finn, in not so many words. I clamp my mouth shut, and just hope that he missed the context behind what I said.
It was wishful thinking, but as he takes a small step closer, his eyes locked with mine, I know he caught my slip up. He’s so close now, I feel trapped between him and the wall, his breath fanning my face in a way that is making me really fucking uncomfortable. With the way he moves, I have no choice but to shift my hand holding the glass out to the side, otherwise I’d be pressing the glass against his chest.
“And what exactly is the reason for my wife’s long night?” he asks, though the tone behind his question leads me to believe he may already suspect the answer.
“Erm… I-I…I don’t know. I just do as I’m told,” I mutter, struggling to find the right words without saying something I shouldn’t.
His lips turn into a smirk, and it sends a shudder down my spine. “I like a girl who does as she’s told.” He licks his lower lip and my stomach rolls.
Don’t vomit, Mac. Don’t vomit, I tell myself.
“I have a boyfriend,” I blurt out, struggling to know what the hell else to say.
His face lights up, and when he laughs, he reminds me of a really shit Bond villain. It’s an evil chuckle that makes me cringe. “And I have a wife…so that hardly seems relevant.” He pauses, his gaze raking over my body in a way that makes my nausea worse. “Do you like your job?”
I nod my head quickly. “Yes, I do, very much.”
“That’s a shame. I have a much better job for you, and I’d make sure that you were compensated much more than you are now,” he explains, though the pervy glint in his eye tells me he’s not referring to another nursing job.
“I-I’m paid well enough, thanks.”
He reaches down and cups my ass cheek, pulling me against him so that the growing bulge in his trousers is pressed against me, and I can’t help but squeal. With my free hand, I quickly push against his chest, but he’s a lot stronger than me, and doesn’t move.
Instead, he leans in until his lips are beside my ear. “But the benefits of this job are so much better,” he growls, as he grips my ass cheek so hard I’m sure it will leave a bruise.
