Crash Into Me(33)

What kind of person did this?

Standing under the hot water as it trailed over my head and body, I wondered if I was the one who was wrong. Tristan hadn't done anything to hurt me, and even his attempts to make me feel at home I considered suspect. Why? What kind of person was I to see sinister motives behind everything?

The shower had helped me see things more clearly, so I quickly dressed in one of my new outfits and set off to find him. I wasn't sure what I'd say, but maybe if we could talk a little I'd be able to show him I knew he meant no harm.

But he was nowhere to be found. Either was Rogers or the driver, so I wandered around the house, peeking my head into every room looking for him. By the time I made it to the pool, my spirits were crushed. I'd asked the wrong question and he'd left, likely returning to his penthouse in the city, and I would be left alone here in the country. I began to wonder if I really was a prisoner.

It was a beautiful warm summer night, so I took my search outside to the grounds, knowing he was likely nowhere nearby. The fireflies were putting on their nightly show, one that I hadn't seen since moving from Pennsylvania. I sat down near the front porch and watched as they illuminated the garden, my mind traveling back to simpler times and the nights when my father would watch as I ran around our yard with a glass jar trying to catch fireflies to keep as my own.

Just thinking about his death in my senior year in college still made me cry. After my mother died when I was only five, he raised my sister and me, never having much of a life other than us. I regretted how much he gave up for me, always there to take me to art classes and dance lessons instead of finding someone to share his life with. He died alone before he got the chance to see me as an adult who so wanted him to find love again.

That was the reality of life—loneliness was often a choice. Here I was with the opportunity to have everything I'd ever wished for and all I could do was look for reasons why I shouldn't accept it. Whatever it was that I was letting hold me back—fear, mistrust—I had a chance to share my life with someone. I had a chance to not be lonely.

Now all I had to do was take it.

The sound of footsteps on the porch behind me roused me from my thoughts, and I turned my head to see Rogers. He approached me stiffly, as was his style, and descended the porch stairs to stand in front of me. The man was oddly cryptic, but he seemed to have something to say, so I waited.

"Miss, do you require anything? The master instructed me to ensure you want for nothing."

Shaking my head, I gave him a weak smile. "No, thank you, Rogers." He stood there a moment longer, so I added, "Actually, I do need something. Where is Mr. Stone?"

Whatever warmth the butler had offered disappeared at my question concerning Tristan's whereabouts. If I had ever doubted it before, I knew now that Rogers was more than just a mere butler. He was the protector of his employer's secrets.

"He is gone for the evening, miss."

I nodded, disappointed that Tristan had left me there with just this spooky shell of a human. "Oh. Tell me, Rogers. How do you stand living out here?"

For the first time, Rogers seemed like someone I might be able to relate to, but I doubted he found living in the country as boring as I already did. To my surprise, he answered, "You may avail yourself of the car if you choose, miss. I can have Jenson bring it around, if you'd like."

"Thank you, Rogers, but I have nowhere to go. I had hoped to see Tristan, I mean Mr. Stone."

The butler's expression changed back to its usual stoic look and he merely nodded before he walked back into the house, leaving me wondering where Tristan had gone.