Chapter 27 | The Devil of Siren City

Skylar

The room is dark. Darker than usual.

That’s because it’s not yours.

For a moment, I assume the voice is jesting, but as consciousness slowly takes hold and my eyes adjust…

This isn’t my room. This isn’t my bed.

It’s Adrian’s.

I sit up in surprise. Why am I here? Why did I wake up in Adrian’s bed?

The voice chuckles.

Did I sleepwalk again?

Yup.

“Shit,” I whisper.

He held us all night to make sure we didn’t hurt ourselves. It was awfully sweet of him.

I touch the other side of the bed. It’s not warm. It’s not cold, either.

Wish I could remember.

I scoot to the edge and touch my bare feet to the floor, realizing that I’m… wearing nothing but a tank top and panties. 

I should really get some proper pajamas if I’m going to be crawling into my boss’ bed in the middle of the night.

Or, and hear me out, you can start sleeping naked.

Ignoring the voice, I creep toward the closed door and quietly open it. Immediately, I sense movement down the hall, along with the sounds of someone fiddling around in the kitchen and the smell of… something delicious.

I inch forward, my toes whispering on the hardwood floor as I poke my head around the doorway. The lights are on now; the power must have come back on at some point today while… we were sleeping. It’s dark outside. The harbor shines with dazzling lights from boats and the flash of the lighthouse on the horizon.

The table is clear. My medical supplies have been cleaned up and put away with care — I assume. I make a mental note to check the supply closet later as I eye my orchid sitting at the center of the table, its petals bright and white.

Adrian stands at the stove with his back to me, fully dressed in a pair of black pants and a tucked-in white shirt. Beside him sits a carton of eggs and some shredded cheese, along with a few small piles of chopped bell peppers and diced ham.

Wait, fully dressed?

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Adrian turns, carefully. “Hey,” he says. “You hungry?”

I walk over, ignoring the hunger in my belly in favor of the concern in my chest. “You shouldn’t be up moving around,” I say. “Why are you dressed?”

He looks down at me, amused. “I have an errand to run. Figured I’d get in a quick bite first.”

“What errand?” I ask, scanning the darkness outside. “It’s late.”

“It’s just after eight. Still plenty of time left in the day.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Adrian.”

He removes the skillet from the stove. “I’m not?”

“You’re in no shape to go out,” I argue.

“Skylar, I’m fine. Fine enough to go down to the boardw—”

I rap my knuckle against his side, targeting the exact place I know I just stitched up a stab wound. Not hard enough to hurt him, but it will.

Adrian doubles over, slapping a hand on the counter to hold himself up as pain undoubtedly fires through his side. “Ouch,” he says through clenched teeth.

“You’re not going anywhere, Adrian,” I say, staying firm. “Whatever it is, it can wait. If it can’t, I’ll run your errand for you.”

He breathes through it, then rises back up, releasing a sigh as the reality of his situation settles in. “Okay,” he says. “I guess it can wait.”

I nod. “Good.”

“You hungry?”

“Starving.”

He flips a finished omelet off the skillet and onto a plate. “This one’s yours,” he says, offering it.

I take it. “Thank you.” While he cracks a few eggs into a bowl, I inspect my meal. “Looks good,” I say.

“I like eggs,” he says.

“Eggs are good.” I set the plate down on the counter behind me. “So, I woke up in your bed.”

He doesn’t react, his eyes focused on the shove. “You did.”

“I sleepwalk again?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” He looks over and gives a shrug. “I was expecting it.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me wandering around when you should be recovering. Maybe…” I pause, the thought not fully formed, but it makes perfect sense. “Maybe you should find someone else to tend to you until this… affliction has passed me over.”

Eggs sizzle lightly in the skillet, filling the heavy silence as I wait for him to respond.

“Are you unhappy with your job, Skylar?” he asks after a minute.

“What? No!” I say. “Not at all.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No. I just feel that… that for the price you’re paying, you deserve someone you can count on. Not someone like… me.”

Adrian looks at me as the scent of cooking ham and peppers fills the air again. “You think I can’t count on you,” he says.

“I think it’s a conversation worth having.”

“You’re right.” He nods. “It is.”

I hold my breath, waiting for him to say more, but he works on his omelet instead. “So, what do you think?” I finally ask.

“I think I’m still alive right now, and that’s because of you,” he says. “So, if the question is whether or not you’ve failed me or given me any reason to think I can’t count on you, then the answer is no. You haven’t.”

“All right,” I say, my belly quivering.

Adrian takes the skillet off the heat and turns to face me. His dark eyes linger on my face, his brow lightly furrowed in thought. “And for the record, the price I’m paying has been worth every penny so far.”

I smile. I can’t begin to imagine a world in which that is true, but this is Siren City, after all. It’s true enough for the moment. “Thank you. And…” I hesitate, the butterflies in my gut making me wonder if I should even mention it at all. “Thank you for not letting me wander.”

“You’re welcome,” he simply says, his gaze lingering.

“Do I, uh…”

“What?”

I try to remember, but it’s… just out of reach. It feels like I should remember, but the last thing I recall is my head touching my own pillow. “When I sleepwalk…” I look him in the eye; a place so familiar now. “Do I say anything?” I ask him.

“No,” he answers. “You don’t.”

I exhale slowly, somewhat relieved. I don’t even want to think about the things my subconscious would say when I wasn’t around to hold it back.

“Okay,” I say. “Let me know if I do?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Adrian doesn’t move, his expression relaxed yet pensive as his gaze slowly roams downward toward my… lips?

I blink, the thought hitting me like a punch in the gut. Surely it’s just my imagination, though.

Right?

Adrian turns his head. “There’s someone on the elevator,” he says.

Oh.

Or he was just concentrating and zoned out.

Yeah, that makes sense.

Adrian crosses the kitchen in a few wide strides, his form quickly disappearing into the foyer. I follow, far too curious not to, pausing in the doorway when he raises a hand in my direction.

“Stay back,” he says, strong and calm.

I obey, hanging back and hoping it’s just the wind. Adrian is… nervous. Worried about whoever it could be. Should I be worried? Should I be arming myself in case the person on the other side of this door is the one who, you know, stabbed Adrian last night?

“Adrian?” I whisper.

He doesn’t reply. He watches through the peephole, his spine long and stiff as he waits.

A few seconds later, he relaxes. “It’s Candy,” he tells me.

I release my held breath.

He looks back at me again and gestures at his side. “Don’t mention…”

I nod.

Adrian opens the door before Candy can knock. Candy lets out a yelp of surprise, dressed in a casual navy blue suit, the first few buttons of his shirt open and loose.

“Ah!” Candy says with an instant grin. “Hello there!”

“Hey,” Adrian greets, holding the door open wide. “What brings you here?”

“I was in the neighborhood. Figured I’d drop by and catch up on some… business,” Candy says as he notices me standing here. His smile hops again. “Hello, Skylar! And… Skylar’s thighs.”

I look down.

Tank top. Panties.

“Oh, god!” I lurch backward out of the doorway, my cheeks instantly red. “Sorry, sorry! I’ll go put on… something. Hi, Candy! Nice to see you,” I say as I race toward my room.

Boy, that was embarrassing.

I glare at the sinister reflection in my vanity mirror and reluctantly nod.