Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Dark
The cold steel of the gun barrel caught the blue light from the window. I couldn't move. My feet were nailed to the travertine.
""Eavesdropping is a very short road to an early grave, Norah,"" Ethan said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. He didn't raise the weapon, but he didn't put it down either. He simply walked toward me until he was close enough that I could smell the peat and oak of his scotch.
""I... I was thirsty,"" I choked out, forcing myself not to drop my gaze. ""I came for water. I didn't mean to hear anything.""
Ethan studied my face. For a long, suffocating minute, the only sound was the wind screaming against the hurricane-proof glass fifty stories above Chicago.
""You're shaking,"" he observed.
""You're holding a gun.""
""I am always holding a gun,"" Ethan replied, turning the weapon around with fluid ease and tucking it into the leather shoulder holster beneath his arm. ""The world is full of men who want to take what is mine. If you live under my roof, you get used to the hardware, or you leave.""
""Can I leave?"" I blurted out, the words escaping before my brain could filter them. ""If I told you right now that I wanted to take Sam and go to a women's shelter, would you let us walk out that door?""
Ethan tilted his head. He reached out, his thumb brushing against a wet strand of hair plastered to my cheek from my shower. The touch was unexpectedly warm, sending a strange, electric shiver straight down my spine.
""A shelter?"" he scoffed softly. ""Do you know what happens to young, pretty mothers in city shelters, Norah? Your shoes would be stolen by midnight. Your baby would catch RSV from the unwashed cots. And the Moretti family’s street runners would spot you within forty-eight hours, looking for leverage against me.""
""Why would they want leverage against you using me?"" I asked, bewildered. ""I’m nobody! I’m a kitchen scrubber!""
""You're the woman who collapsed at my feet in a dining room full of fifty witnesses, whom I carried out in my own arms and brought into my personal sanctuary,"" Ethan said, his eyes darkening. ""In this city, Norah, whoever I protect is deemed valuable. And whoever is valuable to Ethan Hayes is a target.""
The reality hit me like a physical blow. By saving me from Gregory, he hadn't just rescued me—he had inadvertently dragged my son and me into the crosshairs of a war we knew nothing about.
""So I’m a prisoner,"" I whispered.
""You're a guest under high-value protective custody,"" he corrected, turning toward the kitchen. ""Come. If you want water, you might as well learn where we keep the glasses.""
I followed him into the cavernous, dark-marble kitchen. He pulled a crystal tumbler from an overhead cabinet, filled it from an integrated filtration tap, and handed it to me. His fingers brushed mine again, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
""Your boy,"" Ethan said quietly, leaning against the counter. ""Where is the father?""
I took a slow sip of the cold water, staring down into the glass. ""He left the week Sam was diagnosed with a heart murmur. Said he didn't sign up for broken goods. Took the twelve hundred dollars we had saved for the delivery bill and hopped a bus to Phoenix. I haven't heard from him since.""
A dangerous, icy stillness settled over Ethan’s posture.
""Broken goods,"" he repeated, the words tasting like poison on his tongue.
""Sam’s heart murmur healed on its own,"" I added quickly, my protective instincts flaring. ""He’s strong. He crawls faster than any baby I’ve ever seen. He isn't broken.""
""I know,"" Ethan murmured. ""I watched him sleep while you were in the bath. He has your stubborn chin.""
I looked up, stunned. ""You went into our room?""
""It's my house, Norah. Everything inside it belongs to me."" He took a step closer, crowding my space, his physical presence blotting out the kitchen’s chill. ""Including the debts I choose to collect. Tomorrow, you stay inside. The penthouse is locked down. No deliveries, no patio access. Do you understand?""
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""Why? Because of those trucks in Gary?""
Ethan didn't smile, but a grim satisfaction touched his lips. ""You listen well. That’s good. Intelligence is rare in this city. Sleep well, Norah. Tomorrow night, the wolves will howl.""
