Watching Rory

Library

What did he say? What in the actual fuck! He has to be kidding. Right?. To recover from the utter shock, I move to Jace’s side, place my hand into his, and smile gently back at the officers. The whole time, biting down on my cheek so hard when the metallic taste of my blood hits my tongue, I get flashbacks to Eric’s torture. One night, we were having a bonfire in our backyard, and he slammed my face into the concrete walkway because I had cooked his marshmallow for a little too long. I bit my tongue so hard when my forehead made contact. My mouth filled with so much blood I thought I bit the tip of my tongue off.

Jace squeezes my hand, bringing me out of the memory and back to the shit show happening in front of me. Officer Phillips and Randall are still here and staring at me like I just threw up all over their shiny leather shoes. “Do you need a Q-tip to clean your ears? I told you to get out of my house. Your welcome here has expired.” Jace barks, throwing his other arm out and pointing them towards the entrance. Alex listens and starts to leave, but Randall doesn’t move. Instead, he looks me dead in the eye and says, “ What the fuck Rory. How are you already married? You didn’t mention a boyfriend, let alone a husband, when I came to your house because you believed someone had broken into it. That wasn’t that long ago.”

Is he really judging me right now? Ugh, I’m so done with men telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I’m a grown ass woman. No one is making decisions for me anymore. Ripping my hand from Jace’s, I turn around and book it down the hallway. Once I'm at the split staircase, I run up the one on the left, and instead of returning to the bedroom, I head in the opposite direction. Jace will probably go to his room first out of instinct, but I won't be there.

Passing all the same doors, we did on the way to the playroom earlier, I pick one and, as quietly as possible, open it enough for me to squeeze in. It’s darker than the night sky in here, with only the tiniest bit of light creeping in through curtain cracks. After a few blind steps, I must activate a motion sensor because overhead lighting turns on. It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the bright overhead lighting, but once they do, I’m flabbergasted by what’s in front of me.

There are floor-to-ceiling black bookshelves on all four walls, and each one is full of books. The center of the room even has matching three foot high, round bookcases with hollow centers spread around. I stumble to a cozy little area, plop my ass down on an oversized white fluffy papillon chair and take a more thorough look around the room. Hanging from the ceiling is a long wooden beam chandelier with drop lights that create the perfect mood lighting, and to the left of me, there’s a large bow window with a pillow top bench lining it. It’s a book lover's dream library. Fuck it’s my dream library.

Jace hasn’t been watching me for that long. He couldn’t have built this for me. Or has he been, and could he have? I mean, anything is possible with Jace. He did clear as day call me his wife downstairs. Granted, I only know the bare minimal personal details he’s shared, but I wholeheartedly believe him. He doesn't seem like the type of man to lie. Would being married to him be that bad? Yes, Rory. It would be very bad. Before Eric’s demise, I was catching true feelings for Jace despite his intrusive need to watch me, but If we are somehow married, he’s no better than Eric.

Ugh, my head is a jumbled mess from all these unanswered questions, and I’m hiding from the only person who can give me clarity. I close my eyes, inhale deeply, exhale, and repeat until I'm slightly calmer. This chair is so comfortable, if I sit here any longer, there’s a good chance I will pass out, and Jace will find me just how he likes me, asleep. Fuck that! He’s not getting what he wants from me that easily.

Finally, out of the seat, I walk over to the closest shelf to check out its selection, and by the first few books, I can tell at least this shelf was put together with me in mind. It has special editions from all of my favorite dark romance authors. I'm about to pick up a book with a foiled number one on the spine by Ayden Perry that I've never seen before when a throat clearing interrupts me. From the deep exhale after, I know it’s Jace, but I ignore him and keep perusing the book. It’s a Patreon exclusive, and from what I've seen, there are only ten of them in existence. I almost want to turn around and ask how the fuck he got this, but that’s a big almost. A signed book isn’t going to make everything go away, fuck this whole library could be filled to the brim with limited editions and out of print covers, and I’d still be giving him the cold shoulder like I am now.