Chapter 9

Sara

Haunted.

Stalked.

Desired.

I longed to ask Josie or Taylor if they'd ever felt like they were being watched but I was worried what they'd think, especially after their insinuations about my new employer. I'd been certain someone had been inside my dorm room, although the only evidence that might prove me right was that the light on my desk had been turned on when I'd come back to the room. I'd been pretty positive I hadn't left it on since I usually never did.

It was silly, really since the door had been locked just like I'd left it. Then there was the slightest scent that even now, I could swear I was able to gather a whiff of.

As if the man's aftershave had stained my skin permanently. A cold shiver skipped down my spine as I remembered our passionate encounter. It had been so raw and dark, the man extremely possessive. And I'd loved every minute of it.

What if he had broken in? What did he want?

To own you.

The stupid little voice had a way of unnerving me. I doubted it was true anyway. What would a powerful man like Easton Saint see in a twenty-something kid? While he was the youngest of the three brothers, he was still in his late thirties or thereabouts. Not that he looked it.

He was fit in every way, every muscle on his body chiseled as if he made certain he spent hours each week in a gym. And his face was model gorgeous. I couldn't believe I was thinking about him that way. It was… inappropriate. I wanted to laugh. Maybe so but since I'd had his cock buried deep inside of me, I guess I was allowed to think a little naughty before I officially started working with him.

I'd done my research like any diligent worker bee, making good on my promise to Mr. Saint that I was a damn good researcher. What I'd found had been speculative articles, some more fiction than truth.

I'd even laughed at a couple since the cops had no proof, or if they'd gathered any to substantiate the ridiculous rumor mill over the years, it hadn't been enough for any prosecuting attorney, detective, or FBI agent to lay claim to. Some articles had gone back twenty years, Josie's father a detective at the time. I had a feeling her daddy had a vendetta against the family.

But most of the disparaging articles had faded away.

What I had found was a plethora of articles on the humanitarian efforts the three brothers had engaged in over the years, giving charitable funds to a half dozen organizations. One had been a member of a nonprofit board of directors, and the arts facility they'd created catering to those in need of financial assistance had been acknowledged throughout the country.

And to put the cherry on top of the whipped cream, all three had been labeled at one point or another the most handsome, eligible bachelors in the Midwest. Given they were rich, damn good looking, and seemingly decent men, I had to wonder if all the insistence they were monsters, not men, had come from angry green monsters instead of reality.

I wanted to accept my theory without hesitation but my gut told me there was something dark and devilishly sinister about Easton. Of course I wasn't far removed from those people I'd just made fun of since all I could base my conjecture on was my instinct.

And the fact he indulged in horror as much as I did.

I shuddered from the thoughts as I refilled several of the saltshakers, glancing at the limited crowd for the night. It was that time of year when families were helping their kids finish up school while planning for their summer events, which meant business was down. I couldn't care less given the amount of money Easton was paying me.

In the day since I'd taken the test, I'd packed up most of my belongings, which wasn't much, preparing to move into my new home. Well, temporary home. I needed to remind myself of that.

I wondered if a floor of private space would be enough. Of course it would. We were both adults and now that he knew the score, he would be gentlemanly enough to leave me alone.

Maybe.

As I glanced out the window again, I was certain someone was out there, but it was still bright and sunny even for a late afternoon. There was no one hovering outside, no shadowy form darting his head out from behind one of the vehicles. There was just a lot of traffic on a busy road as people headed home from work.

"Did you tell your parents yet?" Taylor said as she closed the distance to the counter, suddenly popping into the diner. She'd tried to convince me not to take the job, and instead go back to where I came from to regroup while looking for work. That's what Mom and Dad wanted too, but this was my life and I only had so much time to forge my way in the world.

"I did. Mom tried to get me to promise to be back in September. Dad said he was proud. They'll both bug me relentlessly." I laughed but she still had a certain look in her eyes, the worry continuing.

"Are they coming to graduation?"

I hated the answer, something that had bothered me since I'd heard they weren't coming during Christmas break. "They can't." Part of the truth was that I didn't want them anywhere near my friends. I was too terrified they'd be recognized. That made me a bad person but I'd worked diligently to carve a life of my own away from the shadows of my uncle and nothing was going to ruin it.

I was debating whether I'd attend the pomp and circumstance at all, or merely pick up my diploma at the main administration building. I'd missed prom, my parents also not attending my high school graduation, although they'd sent my two older brothers instead. I'd already been working by the time of graduation but that hadn't stopped the partying. At least I had a few days to decide.

So much for big family gatherings. Other than Thanksgiving and Christmas, my parents rarely took a day off. I couldn't remember the last time they'd gone on vacation either.

"It's shearing season. I forgot."

"Yes, it is. Plus, Dad's been fighting bronchitis and my mother needs to take care of him. My siblings are involved in their own lives, but they'll have a party for me country bumpkin style when I return." I could tell the somewhat nasty retort had gone way over her head. Being a child who drove a brand new Range Rover, the one that was sitting outside the window, she had no clue what it meant to scrape and save. My parents couldn't afford plane tickets or a stay in a motel. I hoped to change that by getting rich with famous writing.

At least my reasoning didn't sound like a lie.

"I really wish you'd tell Professor Saint no about this job."

"Why are you and Josie so insistent? Do you know how much that man is paying me?" I made certain no one could hear me. "Ten thousand a month."

Her mouth dropped open. "Don't you think that's a little weird? I mean no offense, but you're a student."

"I'm a writer willing to do research, to allow my fingers to fly across a keyboard while he dictates delicious words. What's not to like?"

"Where are you staying? You need to move out of the dorm. You can't be living in a hotel."

I laughed and grabbed two more saltshakers, noticing a courier was delivering the most gorgeous bouquet of roses I'd ever seen. Likely to the owner, who'd just had a baby. "I'm staying at his house."

"Oh. My. God. You're sleeping with him?"

Groaning, I rolled my eyes. "Would you like to say that just a tiny bit louder and no, for God's sake. I have my own floor all to myself. It's for convenience since we'll be working long hours together." Of that I wasn't certain.

She still looked uncomfortable. "Look, you know who Josie's father is. And did you see the story about that kid who was murdered outside some dilapidated buildings in a bad part of town? That was the police chief's son, and he was like a son to Josie's dad."

"That guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"You can't make light of this."

I wanted to grill her on the point she was making when I noticed my boss out of the corner of my eye.

When Ashleigh, the owner, pointed in my direction after talking with the courier, I found myself tensing. "I'm not making light of anything. He's a professor who was vetted by our university. He has an incredible reputation as being extremely charitable. And rumors can turn ugly because people have nothing better to do than to gossip like kids to make themselves feel better. The simple fact is that Easton is a highly respected professional and I might learn something while saving up so I can look for a job. Okay? Nothing more. And don't worry. He's not some crazed stalker or killer."

"You make him out to be a saint," she snorted, her eyes opening wide.

"Miss Adams?" the guy in the cap asked as he placed the insanely huge vase of flowers on the counter.

"Yes?"

"These are for you." He had a grin on his face.

"Jesus," Taylor mused as she folded her arms. "Looks like you've been keeping secrets."

"No, I have not. There are beautiful." I took a deep whiff, running a single finger over one of the soft petals. It felt exactly like velvet. When I pulled back, I noticed the water was pink. "Why is the water colored?"

The guy shrugged. "I dunno other than the dude who came into place the order had a tiny vial with him. He insisted our designers dump it in the water. Creepy if you ask me."

"Kind of reminds me of blood," Taylor cooed as she leaned in. "Oh, but he's a regular good guy. Right?"

"Shut up," I hissed under my breath.

"Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense."

One of my favorite quotes by Mark Overby came to mind, which only added to another macabre moment. Boy, wasn't I in a strange mood lately.

All because you fucked the professor.

A cold shiver skittered down my spine. Yes, the color was perfectly tinted. Stop it. Just stop it.

No one had ever sent me flowers but since I was graduating, I wondered if my siblings had gone in on the flowers together. I pulled out five bucks from my stash of limited tips, trying to hand it to the guy.

"No need. All taken care of." He nodded to both of us politely and started to head out.

"A secret admirer?" Taylor teased.

"You outta know with the number of boyfriends you have. I'm curious if one knows about the other six."

"Ha ha. And it's down to four." She giggled and pointed toward the card. "Who are they from? Should we take bets?"

I snatched it before she had a chance, taking my time opening the envelope. I wasn't certain whether to be shocked or nervous. The card wasn't meant to be pushy or terrifying, but his words were rather unusual.

Yes, I now feel that it was then on that evening of sweet dreams—that the very first dawn of human love burst upon the icy night of my spirit. Since that period, I have never seen nor heard your name without a shiver half of delight, half of anxiety.

I whispered the beautiful words, smiling afterwards.

"Okay, what the hell?" Taylor huffed as only she could do. "That's just bizarre and twisted."

"It's not twisted. It's called poetic. Don't you remember studying Edgar Allan Poe?"

She narrowed her eyes before opening them wide. "Whoa, hold on. No way. They're from Professor Saint?"

"I guess so." There was also a personal message as well, merely welcoming me into his world. However, it was the passage he'd selected that had me tingling all over.

"I don't like this. That is twisted, no matter what you believe. And my gut tells me the man is dangerous."

"Oh, stop. It's a kind gesture. Jesus. It's obvious you've been watching too many horror movies."

Which was a joke. She couldn't stand them, begging me to turn them off anytime she'd come to watch a flick with me.

She gave me another look. "Very funny, but I think you need to watch a few more since you're forgetting what happens to the innocent victims. That's creepy as fuck." She returned her gaze to the flowers.

"Dare I remind you the professor has been our fantasy for years? Now, you find him creepy?"

"Sara, honey. Don't you remember there've been several handsome serial killers?"

"Now, he's graduated to a serial killer? Don't you have a graduation party to go to tonight?"

Laughing, she tossed her long hair. "Yes, which is why I'm here. Please come. It won't be the same without you. You should see the spread my parents created."

"You mean the catered party that likely two dozen people hired planned and executed for their only girl's graduation from a highly esteemed college."

"Don't be such a prude. So my parents have money. So what? Come drink copious amounts of champagne with Josie and me. There's going to be plenty of hot guys there. I might even add to my collection."

"You would and no. I need to finish getting ready to move to my new digs. Remember? Plus, I'm working late to cover a shift. So I wouldn't get there until late anyway."

She narrowed her eyes. "Party pooper. If something happens and you change your mind, just drop by. K? I'm certain the debauchery aspect will be going on all. Night. Long." She backed away, blowing me a kiss.

"I'll think about it." I shook my head before taking a whiff of the stunning roses that cost more than I often made in several days of work.

As I grabbed the vase from the main counter, I realized I wasn't certain where to put them. After finding the perfect spot near the coffeemakers, I took a few seconds to smile, reflecting on the incredible gesture and the card.

Why did I have a feeling I'd gotten in over my head more than I wanted to admit?