His body closes in on mine, and my breath hitches in my lungs as his warm chest presses against my breasts, the belt buckle of his pants digging into my belly. If he were hurting me, this would never feel as good as it does, and I hate him for it. My heart begins to flutter in my chest, and an attraction I’ve never felt before makes itself known. I shouldn’t be noticing how hard his chest is or how much my hips want to arch into his.
In my mind, I’m furiously cursing my traitorous body. He’s a domineering brute, and I shouldn’t be reacting this way. I glare up at him, tilting my chin and daring him to hurt me.
The hand on my throat is warm and strong, but he doesn’t tighten his grip. Those steel gray eyes bore into mine, and his lips begin to move. I quickly concentrate on his mouth. “You should be dead, or on your back overseas. Instead, I gave you a second chance at life. Make it work, Charli, because if you don’t, you won’t like the consequences.”
After I’ve read his lips, frustration begins to overwhelm me. I’ve always been great at putting up a strong front, but this is just too much. I don’t understand why he’s doing this. I need to find out what he wants from me.
As if he can sense what’s going on in my mind, his eyes shift but continue to reveal nothing of his emotions. “I am asking for nothing in return, so stop being a stubborn brat and accept what has been given to you.” The thumb pressing against the pulse point of my neck begins to stroke my skin, causing goosebumps to rise on my flesh. “A roommate will be moving in later, deal with it. If you say one word about how we met or how you’ve come to be here, I will have no choice but to kill him. Do you understand me?” he asks, his eyes cold and expectant.
I stare at him, taking a full minute to allow what he’d said to sink in. Do I believe his threat? Absolutely. This is a man who is neck-deep in criminal activity, and judging by the penthouse suite he lives in, the designer suit he’s wearing, and the gleaming watch on his wrist that must cost a fortune, he has the money to back up any threat he makes.
He continues speaking, giving me no choice but to concentrate on the movement of his lips. “The roommate is for your benefit, so get to know him and be wise with what you confide. Remember, his life is in your hands, so don’t mess up. Nod if you understand me.”
I’m still conscious of his hand on my throat, and I give a slight nod. There’s no use trying to argue or have my say, because apparently my opinions don’t matter.
His eyes search mine, and his hand carefully releases my throat. “The phone is on the bed. My number is saved in your contacts along with”—I don’t catch the name he’d just stated since names need to be spelled for me to understand. “If you have any problems or questions, contact him first and then myself. Understood?”
I badly want to tell him where he can shove his demands. I’m deaf, not stupid. Though to be honest, reading lips isn’t all that easy, and I’m understanding most of what he’s saying and filling in the blanks myself where I’ve missed something. Still, I hate it when people talk down to me, although that’s not exactly what he’s doing. He’s just not allowing me to have a say in the matter, and that’s just as bad as treating me like a child.
He’s waiting for me to show my acceptance, so I give him a sarcastic nod.
The caustic move doesn’t go unnoticed, and his eyes turn to chipped ice. “The refrigerator is fully stocked, and there’s a credit card next to the ID. When the cash runs out, begin using the card. A monthly allowance will be transferred into your account.”
I begin to furiously sign in ASL, wanting to know why he’s doing this. What does he expect in return?
He stares long and hard at me for a full minute before stepping away and moving to the bed, picking up the phone that I hadn’t noticed earlier. The manila envelope is also there. He holds the glossy black phone out to me with a measured look. “One question before I leave. I had to rearrange my schedule this morning to deal with you, and I am not happy about it.”
I snatch the phone from him and turn it over in my hands, trying to figure out how to turn it on. He reaches over and presses the button on the side before swiping the screen.
I shoot him a look as if saying, “Let me do the rest on my own.” I press the message icon, and I’m pleased when a keyboard comes to life at the bottom of the screen. I quickly type, I won’t be anyone’s slave. I am not going to exchange sex for a roof over my head. When I’m finished, I hold it out to him, glaring.
He doesn’t reach for the phone, and instead, his eyes scan the text. His gaze lifts to mine. “You are not a slave, and the only sex you’ll experience is the kind you want, with whomever you want, and it’ll be on your own terms.”
His response brings a frown to my face. I look down at the phone and begin typing another question. When I look up to show him what I’d typed, I find that he’s gone. I blink with disbelief and hurry through the open doorway and down the hall. When I reach the main room beyond the kitchen, the apartment door is just closing behind him.
I come to an abrupt halt when I belatedly notice the blond-haired man with the brown eyes standing in the room. His wide stance informs me that he has no intention of going anywhere anytime soon.
He drugged me! I glare at him accusingly as the arrogant man in the suit is temporarily forgotten.
His eyes meet mine without remorse. “If he wants you off the streets, you’d best do what he wants.”
After a moment of hesitation, I cautiously move closer and drop my eyes to type, Or what? I hold it out for him to read.
“May I?” he asks, motioning towards the phone.
I nod and hand it to him. I watch as his large fingers move across the keyboard until he hands the phone back to me. I read the text. You don’t want to know. My name is Carter, and I’m in your contacts. You can begin a text conversation with me by pressing on my name and choosing the envelope icon. Be warned, I am not an idle chit-chat kind of guy, so if it’s not an important question, I will likely ignore it.
I’m still bewildered by everything that has happened, and it’s difficult to believe that the man in the suit is doing this out of kindness. There are many thoughts swirling around in my head, and I glance at Carter. He’s patiently watching me, likely expecting more questions. I want to test the text messaging tool, so I follow his directions and find his name in the contacts. There are only two names in the directory, and Devlin Kade is the second. So that’s his name. I press Carter’s and open a text conversation. I type, What is this about a roommate? I press send and watch Carter intently.
He slips his hand in his suit jacket to pull out a phone. After he opens the text, his fingers move across the screen. A second later, the phone I’m holding vibrates.
Interesting. I kind of like this text messaging thing—the technology of it all, not the man I’m swapping texts with. His message reads, A companion/roommate has been hired. He’s fluent in ASL and will help you with anything you need. Be careful. Your actions could get him killed.
I’m sure they could, which is something I’m going to have to wrap my mind around before this guy shows up. I type, You guys hired me a babysitter.
Carter responds, You obviously need one or you wouldn’t be in this situation.
My head jerks up, and I give him my middle finger.
The only reaction he gives is a look of boredom.
This entire morning has been strange, and I don’t think I can handle another second of it. Without a text or explanation to Carter, I turn on my heel and make my way back to the bedroom I’d fled earlier. Desperate for privacy, I close the door and scowl at the bed.
The manila envelope is still there. I walk over and sit down, opening it. Inside, nestled beside the thick stack of bills, is an ID. A black credit card is also present. The ID looks real, and I scan the name on it. Charlotte Andrews. Close. My real name is Charlene Johnson.
This is crazy.
It’s as if I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole and traversing a world that I am no longer familiar with. Knowing t
hat I need to step back from the situation and think logically, I draw in a deep breath and exhale before trying to sort my options.
Apparently, if I try to leave behind all that’s been given to me, I will be dragged back. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen in real life, this is something that would only happen in a fiction book. No one is supposed to swoop in and save me from the life I’m living. I didn’t ask anyone to.
My temples throb, and I massage them as I dwell over my situation. Whether I like it or not, Devlin Kade has eyes on me, and I’m stuck living here for the time being—unless I want to risk his wrath. As much as I would like to throw a wrench into his plans, I don’t know him well enough to test him just yet.
Resentment rises deep within me. What makes him think I need a damned babysitter? I’m deaf, but that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember since I’ve never had anyone to rely on.
The phone draws my attention, and I gaze at it sourly. I’d like to continue my argument with him, but I doubt it’d accomplish anything. He seems to have his mind already made up.
My eyes drift to the closed door. Carter evidently has plans to stay until the mysterious roommate shows up. Disgust floods me. I’m being pawned off to someone like a disobedient child.
I won’t bend beneath their expectations.
* * *
Late that afternoon, I leave the room and enter the kitchen in search of something to eat. The food had already been bought and will spoil as time goes by, so I might as well eat it. When I open the refrigerator, I gaze at the shelves filled with an assortment of foods. Before today, I’d had to scour dumpsters. Having this much in a refrigerator, just waiting to be eaten, is disconcerting. I’m not hungry enough for a full meal, so I decide on an orange and a bottle of water.
There isn’t a table, so I walk to the counter and set down the items. An unopened roll of paper towel is waiting to be used, and I unwrap the plastic. After I pull a sheet from the roll, I peel the fruit and discard the peelings on the paper towel.
I look around the kitchen curiously. I’d been in here once before when I’d looked around the apartment in search of unwanted surprises. This time, I take my time inspecting it.
The kitchen is spotless, but all the white sets the tone as impersonal. Sure, the stainless-steel appliances give it a sleek, modern look, but it doesn’t give the room a welcoming vibe. There’s just too much space and not enough character. I can’t help but wonder why the apartment hadn’t been furnished. The bed had been bought for me, but nothing else. I suppose that’s what the cash was for, and I find it odd. Devlin Kade has already taken it upon himself to make numerous decisions for me, so why not fill the apartment with ridiculous furniture? Either way, I have no intention of using the money to turn this into a place that I could call home.
When I take the first bite of the juicy orange, my eyes flutter closed as I savor it. It’s impossible to recall the last time I’d eaten an orange, but my enjoyment is overshadowed by the fact that it’d been bought by another—by someone that pities me and assumes I can’t care for myself. My eyes open and a frown tugs on my lips. All my life people have misjudged me, and I so badly want to prove him and everyone else wrong.
Movement draws my attention.
Carter’s standing by the French door, and he motions that he’d like me to follow him into the main room.
Has the roommate arrived? I’ve been waiting for this moment all morning and afternoon. Whoever he is, he’s the last piece to this bizarre puzzle.
I grab two orange slices and follow Carter into the other room. There’s a man in his early to mid-twenties standing there with three, large duffle bags at his feet. What the hell is up with all the attractive men around here? He’s about Carter’s height and looks like he belongs lounging on a beach somewhere. His hair is a light blond, and warm blue eyes gaze back at me from a very attractive face. When he smiles, dimples appear in both cheeks.
Well, shit.
This guy is supposed to be my babysitter? My eyes drop to take in his muscular frame encased in jeans and a vintage tee.
When my eyes lift back to his, he begins to sign to me in ASL. Hi Charli, I’m Keagan. It’s nice to meet you.
As odd as it sounds, the fact that he knows ASL has my earlier indignation fading—just a smidgen. I raise my hands to sign back, but I still have the two orange slices in my hands. I give him a polite smile before turning to Carter as I pop one of the slices into my mouth. My brow arches as if asking, “Are you going to leave now?”
He gives me a deliberate look, and I know it’s a warning to be careful with how much I reveal to Keagan. He then turns to Keagan and says something, shaking his hand. A second later, he’s walking to the door and leaving.
Now, I’m alone with the new stranger.
Keagan returns his attention to me and signs, Nice place you have.
Wanting to free up my hands, I slip the last slice of fruit into my mouth and begin signing back. You’ll have to tell Devlin Kade you like it. It’s his, not mine.
His blue eyes study mine intently before he responds. I was told that you’re a little…prickly over the situation.
Prickly? He doesn’t know the half of it. I didn’t ask for his help. Nor do I want a babysitter, I sign. I’d like him to know where I stand with this entire companion situation.
Keagan nods, looking unfazed by my unwelcoming attitude. Got it. I will try to remain respectful to your wishes, but you will have to keep in mind that I have a job to do and bills to pay, he reminds.
Are you deaf? I inquire, my eyebrows lifting with the question.
He signs, No. I have a Bachelors in Deaf Studies from LaGuardia Community College.
Of course, he’s not deaf. If he were, he wouldn’t be babysitting me. Look, I don’t really want to be here. This is all Kade’s idea, and as appealing as it might seem to someone else, I want nothing to do with this setup. Do you understand?
He regards me a moment before responding. I do, but I also understand you were living on the streets before this.
I was doing just fine! I sign with frustration.
Keagan slants me a look that states he disagrees. I think we should agree to disagree on that point, he signs.
I think this is a bad idea. You’re a complete stranger, and I’m supposed to trust you because Devlin Kade tells me to? You could be a serial rapist.
Keagan’s eyebrows shoot upwards, and he looks genuinely stunned by my comment. His hands quickly begin signing, Do I look like a serial rapist to you?
I scan him from head to toe and shrug. Rapists can come in all sorts of packages, even appealing ones. I know I’m being a bit of a bitch right now, but I think I have a right to be a tad grouchy.
I’m gay, Charli. I’m very happy with my longtime boyfriend, he signs with a firm look.
He’s gay. My eyebrows pull together. I don’t have a problem with his sexuality, and I’m relieved that I won’t have to worry about unwanted advances. What does bother me is Devlin Kade had thought of every possible detail when it comes to controlling my life.
Keagan’s waiting to see how I respond, and I sign, I don’t have a problem with your interest in men. Make yourself at home.
Keagan looks around, his brow crinkling. You have an aversion to furniture?
I give him a feral smile. I have an aversion to anything that I haven’t paid for myself. We’ll talk more later, I add. After I’ve relayed to him my thoughts on the topic, I leave the room and head for my own, firmly closing the door. This is my reality from here on out, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle it.
The rest of the evening, I avoid Keagan like he has the plague. I know it’s not fair, and it’s not his fault that he’d applied for a job that consists of basically babysitting me. Still, I just can’t bring myself to be a willing participant.
It’s late when I finally climb into the bed wearing just the panties and bra that’d been bought
for me yesterday. I am in desperate need of spare clothing, but it hadn’t been a priority earlier. Tomorrow, I’ll buy a secondary set and look for a job. As much as I hate to admit it, and I won’t to anyone, but at least now I have a place of residence when I fill out applications. Leaving it blank has probably worked against me, so maybe the illusion will help me gain employment.
For a while, I toss and turn, but I can’t fall asleep. The conversation with Devlin keeps playing over and over in my mind, and it’s preventing me from relaxing. I’m bothered that I hadn’t had a chance to share my opinion about anything he’d decided for me.
I shift and sit up, pulling the phone out from beneath the pillow. Earlier, I’d figured out how to set the alarm so that the vibration will hopefully wake me in the morning. I turn on the phone and swipe the screen. After I find my very short contacts list, I click on Devlin’s name. I’m supposed to text Carter first if I need anything, and I smirk. Too bad. I type, I don’t like Keagan. I want to see his reply. So far, Keagan seems like a nice guy, and I like that he’d given me space and had left me alone after our first and only conversation. Devlin doesn’t need to know that, though. I press ‘send’ and wait.
He probably won’t respond.
A minute goes by, and I scowl. I wonder if calling him names would draw his attention.
When the phone vibrates in my hand, I jump slightly. He’d responded, and I read his text. You just met him, it’s too soon to form an opinion.
I roll my eyes and send back, I formed my opinion of you the second I laid eyes on you, and so far, that opinion stands correct.
Text me when you have something important to say. This conversation is inconsequential.
My lips flatten. You don’t own me, and you can’t control my feeling and actions.
His response is almost immediate. I do own you, Charli. The second I decided your life should be spared is the very moment I chose to keep you.
Caught in the Devil's Snare Page 6