The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Sixty-Three

Someone is shouting.

A mixture of garbled words and rising voices cut through the thick cement floors separating the bottom and first floor. They rose higher, gaining traction before dropping again. Exhausted, I sag against the double vanity in the bathroom, groaning as I shove an arm through one of Chris' white t-shirts.

A pair of grey sweatpants hang on my hips, clinging to me only by the power of the drawstring forcefully tied to keep them up. His shoes, a few sizes too big, swallow my feet. My toes peek out of the slides, flashing a sparkling cobalt blue.

I don't want to leave this bedroom and venture downstairs, but something is wrong. Chris wouldn't elaborate when he directed Charlie away from me. I'm not sure if I'm more disappointed about not knowing what's going on or not being fucked.

It should be the former, but it's more likely the latter.

Squaring my shoulders, I leave the quiet of the upstairs main bedroom and take the wide white marble steps two at a time. The voices rise again, carrying so clearly I can identify Charlie's baritone shouts and Chris' low, calming tone. Two other people are in the room.

Both male and by the way they're speaking, law enforcement. A frown pulls at my lips and I fight hard to keep it away. I make it my business to make sure the cops don't make my business theirs.

Whatever this is, it's not good.

"You've got to be kidding! Are you seriously asking if I had anything to do with an attack on Blue's life?" Charlie rages as I round the corner. "I'd give my life for hers! I'd never do anything to harm her."

"That's yet to be seen, Hendrix." A familiar voice responds, sending tickles down my spine. Could it be...? How had he found us? "Do you have any idea why this is happening and how if neither of you are involved?"

"How do we know you aren't involved?" Charlie threw back. "You were there! You could've sent those assholes after us and we'd be none the wiser. There's still the question of why a DEA agent was snowboarding the mountains."

"Jason? Wha—how are you here?"

He swings around as I move toward Chris, a smile lighting up his face. It doesn't reach his eyes. They're haunted—hunted—as though he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Doctor Hawthorne," he greets me, stepping backward and closer to the man accompanying him, "I'm glad you're alive and well. I was beginning to worry."

His coldness stings and I can't explain why. I barely know him. Wanting him close for no other reason than to spend my days hearing his deep voice and listening to his rich laughter is a dangerous thing.

All of this was dangerous. He shouldn't be here. Jason should be on the other side of the planet and far away from us. Specifically, far away from me.

Until we figured out who came after us in the mountains, anyone in association with us for too long could be a target. Iris was still searching, but she'd come up with nothing from the facial recognition software. It's almost like those people didn't exist.

Whoever they worked for had scrubbed their existence from every database I could access. But, I refuse to give up. I will protect my family—my men—no matter the cost.

"Why would you worry?" I ask, baiting him. Someone needs to explain his presence and his connections. "I'm just some woman you met on the slopes."

Hurt flashes across his face so quickly, I nearly miss it. I'm sad to see it go as his face smoothes out into an expressionless mask. After spending time with him, and experiencing how animated he is, it's a painful twist in my stomach when it surfaces.